Once upon a time, someone said yes

“What do you want to be when you grow up?” is a question that is often asked here among this small flock of grandchildren.

The answers range from archaeologists to teachers, bluegrass musicians, artists, builders and welders.

A 9-year-old granddaughter wants to be a NICU doctor because she has always wanted to be a doctor and loves babies. Win, win!

Of course, all answers can change within five seconds.

I wonder how many people became what they thought they would become as children.

At the age of 5, our youngest said she wanted to be a teacher when she grew up. She never wavered, except for a brief moment when she said she wanted to retire when she grew up.

Our son had an ever-changing list of what he wanted to be: Lego creator, taxidermist, park ranger, sculptor. He is an architect.

When my husband picked up a camera at age seven, he knew he would become a photojournalist. He was, is and will be forever.

When I was in sixth grade, I was sure I was going to be a physical education teacher. Who wouldn’t love having a break all day every day? The fact that I held the girls’ push-up record in elementary school by doing 45 “boy push-ups” in 54 seconds had a lot to do with it.

Yes, I still have the medal. Thanks for asking.

At the end of my journalism school, I completed the writing and photojournalism sequences. I married a photojournalism classmate from college.

The old saying goes: “We met in the darkroom to see what would develop.”

Thanks for the laugh. Not many under 45 get this joke.

My mother said our wedding was like a spot news event. Many of our J-School friends came with cameras.

A few years later I became a mother. Then I became a mother twice more. It’s difficult to lug around camera equipment when you have three small children hanging around your neck. I swapped the camera bag for a diaper bag and started working from home – writing.

Finally, I turned to the Indianapolis Star with some sample columns about family life. Thirty-three years ago this month, two editors decided to take a chance on an unknown. They said yes. A few months later, my column was selected for national distribution.

I am forever grateful to a man named Ted Daniels and a fireball named Ruth Holladay for opening the door for me. I’ve tried to apply the same policy and say “yes” when I can.

I hope some people along the way to our grandchildren will say yes as they explore different options and paths in the future.

If you’ve ended up in a good place once or twice, it’s probably because someone said “yes” along the way.

Why not continue? Say yes.

Lori Borgman is a columnist, author and speaker. Her new book, What Happens at Grandma’s Stays at Grandma’s, is out now. Email her at [email protected].