Dec

15

All of the betters

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I posted something here that I came to regret. I know there is a way to share my truth while following the north star of this post-divorce life: stick to my side of the street, and I failed that. I’m an emotional human working this out in real time, and I biffed it. And I can’t have commentary that takes sides, if you can understand that. It’s not fair. I like having comments, I always have, but writing like this comes with responsibility and I need to guide us towards the right kind of convo. I’m writing my way through a real crazy time and the internet isn’t a diary I keep under my bed, it’s out here in the open and it’s up to me to hold the right boundaries, which is rough because have you met me, I have always been kind of a big blurry mess in that department, but I can do better and I will.

Here is almost all of what I shared, which is everything I meant to say.

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I feel so settled in my house now. I feel so settled in my new LIFE now. A few weeks ago out at the barn I adjusted my stirrups so they are one notch shorter and I could not believe what a difference that made riding, like I was finally in the perfect alignment and felt so deep and confident on Little Joe’s back. I don’t know why that took me two whole years to figure out, but it’s so good now. I thought I was comfortable, but I wasn’t. I thought I was steady, but it’s so much better now.

I drink better coffee. I sleep better. I go on better walks. I have a better social life. I feel better about myself. I feel better about how I move through the world.

I will always remember and honor the good times because there were plenty, but I see now how I was living. How I did not realize just how much better my life could be. I was so afraid to leave the comfort I had, I didn’t know it was like riding wrong in the saddle. You think it’s fine until you feel something better, and then that just blows your whole world wide open.

Dec

12

A perfect day

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Let me tell you about the incredible day I had yesterday.

I woke up with sunlight pouring in, we’ve had a number of gorgeously mild days in a row here. I got ready for the barn, and drove to visit M on my way. He’s my current hospice assignment; 77 and living in a memory care facility. I’m not sure what has ravaged his health, he’s in a wheelchair and pretty fragile but capable of good short conversation.

When I signed in, I gave the front desk worker a little gift cup of hot chocolate fixings. (To be honest, a re-gift from a hospice holiday party, but it was cute and I’m always trying to think of small things to hand out to the tired facility workers.) She brightened up and got to talking with me about her grandchildren, she’s just 40 but has several already. On my way back out, she had one little guy crawling on the desk with her, and her young daughter stood nearby with a ripe round belly. “See, another on the way,” her mom said, her face a complicated combo of resignation and delight.

M was up for lunch and I brought him out to the main room, where residents were served some just-okay looking trays of stew. We were talking a bit about one of his old jobs — he has some amazing history, from driving around the country in a VW van during the 60’s to being a ship photographer on a boat that cruised up and down the entire Missisippi — and he mentioned that he had a bunch of old photos we could look at. I went and looked around in his room and sure enough, tucked down on the bottom shelf of a cabinet, an old cardboard box jam-packed with photo prints.

What a treasure trove this was. He must have hundreds in there, an archeological gift of his past. He was able to tell me about every picture I held up; there were shots of deep blue glaciers from cruising to Alaska, people on the Missippi riverbacks, friends and family, and photo after photo of handsome young full-mustachio’d M with knock-dead gorgeous women. “I never did have a problem flirting,” he told me, his eyes twinkling. Boy, I guess.

He clearly enjoyed this and I sure did too, and now we have something special to do every time I visit. Before I left, I wheeled him outside so we could both tilt our heads to the sun and feel it on our faces. “I like spending time with you,” he told me. “I like spending time with you,” I said truthtfully. “I am so glad I met you, M.”

“It was just one of those ‘spose to be’s,” he said, and we kissed each other on the cheek.

I felt almost too full of good feelings to do anything else, but went on to the barn where the good weather made up for the pervasive mud and I got Little Joe’s stall cleaned up and took him for a ride outside where I was brave enough to canter him through a field for the first time. Cool air, saddle creaking, birds rising into the sky, sweet Joe Baloney the Show Pony flicking his soft ears and feeling in perfect harmony with his rhythms. One of the very best rides I’ve had.

When I got home I texted Dylan and he swung by for a short visit, playing with Billy and politely refusing the sweet treats I always press on him in favor for some prosciutto (?!). We had just been out to dinner the night before, and I dragged him through the mall with me afterwards where we stumbled upon a choir of women singing Christmas carols, the acoustics a shockingly perfect venue for their angelic tones.

Later, I watched another my-choice-only movie while eating an absolutely crazy delicious concoction of Dubai chocolate flavored popcorn that I’d impulse-bought at Cost Plus World Market mixed with lemon Noose yogurt. Don’t knock it, it was the most wonderful combination of too-sweet and tart, creamy and pillowy-crunchy. The balmy weather had made the house a little stuffy so I gluttonously turned the AC on to 67 degrees for a while, just because I could.

I had a few spicy just-for-me texts to relish. I exchanged some funny messages with friends, I made plans for Friday night. I took a bubble-filled bath and danced to Marina’s Princess of Power album (I am OBSESSED). I played with my beloved Billy and cuddled him in bed while scrolling TikToks.

Some days have felt so heavy, but this one — light as a dream, more rich and textured than any fantasy, so damn good I had to write it down and make sure I remember it.

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