Jul
24
On Wednesday Dylan came over and we watched a movie together in my little back living room, him with Mabel tucked into his lap and occasionally popping her head up to startle him all to hell by barking at something on the screen. We had Killer Burger takeout and when he left I waved madly from the front door while fending off the pets and I thought of the previous times when I would shut that door and just be overcome with tears because a visit is not the same as seeing your kid in the house you share, and I felt grateful to be in a different place. It will never stop being bittersweet, it will not feel like it did those first weeks and months again.
About a full year has gone by since the separation and divorce and it would be easier to name the things that haven’t changed. I feel like I’ve walked a thousand miles since then. I feel the ache and resilience of the journey, the way my tender footing has strengthened and the way new muscles are holding me upright.
It was difficult for all of us and the most painful part for me had to do with wanting things to be different and all these months later I think that has been the most enduring lesson, that it does no good to batter endlessly against what is. When the circumstances are out of your control, the energy belongs in acceptance and adaptation.
I would not wish away this hard path. Everything has taught me something, everything has led to growth.
Someone who has become such a dear friend created this art for me, which hangs on my kitchen wall:
Jul
8
I can measure the quickness of time by the fact that it is nearly always the day before garbage day. Shit, I’ll think when I first start seeing cans on the street in the evening. Goddamn it, I’ll think when the reminder pops up later on my phone after I’ve forgotten about it altogether. MOTHERFUCKER, I grumble as I fling back the covers at 11:23 PM when I remember yet again that I need to haul out the trash or I’m gonna be doomed to the 6 AM flopsweat speed run. I’d like one of those signs that starts with “IN THIS HOUSE WE BELIEVE” and then goes on to say that time is a flat circle and in the middle is a Sani-Pac truck.
Oh but there is another way to experience time that is QUITE discombobulating, and that is to receive a gorgeous graduation card of a near-adult-sized human who was just a tiny baby approximately seventeen minutes ago. Oh, wow… is the only response to that, as you feel the years stretch behind you in a baffling blur of whole entire lives you have lived that seem to have little to do with where you are now. Eras, so to speak.
“Everything is a learning experience, right?” I said recently to a friend. We were talking about dating, laughing a bit about my recent foibles out there on the apps (OMG, some stories for another time if I can figure out how to write about it), but we were talking about everything, too. We agree that even the things and people we deeply regret, the very worst moments and choices, are all teachers.
I can barely connect with the person I was when the grad card stunner was a wee little chubbins, when my own tall handsome man-shaped children were small and life was so different, and can I just say what an incredible blessing this blog has been throughout the years. I recently paid a very reasonable sum to re-instate my old Diaryland entries (my god I would have paid anything) and have been reading through some of them and what an experience that is. I’m so grateful I captured memories in those writings, many would be forever lost to the great forgetting that comes with age.
I have found career opportunities and community through this public personal writing, I’ve made the most amazing friendships, I have processed so much and received so much support and advice. And now to have access to those previous lives via my own words — invaluable. I have definitely made some missteps along the way in terms of oversharing, it has not been without its downsides, but what an overall gift. Thank you blogging, for existing and being a thing that intrigued me and motivated me, and thank you me for keeping at it.
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