Blog written September 23, 2019
One week ago my daughter married the man of her dreams. It was a blessed evening. A tiny wedding that was exquisite. Set outdoors in the typical Pacific Northwest style of rustic beauty and elegance. A night of celebration, reflection and re-prose. One day more it would be 40 years exactly her dad and I married in a more simple outdoor wedding down the road. And one day less, 8 years exactly was when we officially divorced. Her wedding date was sandwiched between our vows and demise.
Five years ago I could not comprehend this day. My children and I were reconciling from a 4 year estrangement because of my choice to grow on, heal, and become who I am now. Last week, during the morning hours I visited my old home of 30+ years. My daughter warned me to not be upset. It was overgrown and consumed by the forest. In poor disrepair. Hoarded up with stuff.
I said hello and good-bye to our family dog of 13 years who has cancer and a growing tumor inside. Her days are numbered. Our family cat of 17 years, always elusive heard my wish to see her. Quietly she met me out on the porch. She was thin. Her tabby coat more black than the once brown. I pet her as she beamed. She knew I was coming. For a few precious moments she meowed, purred, and rubbed herself on my legs. We said hello and then good-bye. I held my tears back. Just barely.
I had not seen my ex since 5 years past. When I hugged him- and my kids in the church aisles of my mother’s funeral for the first time since our divorce. It was a new beginning. There have been many beginnings since then. One week ago I revisited the home I physically helped build, nail by nail, now dilapidated. I was filled with deep sorrow and gratitude for the paths that intersected on this day and started many, many moons ago.
I spoke with my children’s father with concern for his rat problem that was eating away his precious vintage cars he restored that stole years from our marriage. Gave him easy solutions as I always had fed him knowing he would not follow through. My children have struggled with him lately. They are now seeing, believing and knowing truths behind my marriage woes. I can no longer fix any of it. Because there is no fixing an addict. He has resumed some good health with a so called non addictive pills that counters the prescription pills he harbored for too many years.
I stared at him at our daughter’s wedding…and thought about the choices he made, continues to make. He plays innocent to victimizing himself with his own thoughts and learned behaviors. Made life hard. A mess of his own mind because of what? I found it odd a great love swept over me for him. Not a love of wanting what we could have had that didn’t happen. Not a marriage type of love or even friendship. It was a love I had never experienced before. It was a compassionate love for our journey. And deep compassionate love for his life of severe misalignment. I realized I never stopped loving him right then. I could not deny I certainly despised his abuse in our marriage and subsequent divorce. The post trauma and angst it set into motion in my own life was horrific. I’ve always said it is easy to love people. It is hard to like them.
And since that 7 days ago I’ve cried too often. Realizing I still had not fully forgiven myself. For what we co-created beyond and far before this so called reality. For what I could not control or fix or help for him; and still cannot. For the path he continues to manifest which now pains our children. And for the gratitude of knowing I had- and did save myself. I had not forgiven fully, nor surrendered to what is and continues to be. I am not sure I ever will when the solution to chose health seems so simple. But to most it is not simple, or easy. It takes a lot to own your stuff. To wade through a lifetime of upsets to your psyche. To find balance and ease and alignment with your soul self. To forgive what you could not control and, it was not in your power to do so for another.
My daughter’s wedding in effect was another transition spot. A full circle. Of years that opened me in ways I could not have ever perceived. Tears have run down my cheeks in random moments ever since. Many old friends hugged me tight and long for our long term journeys together. I realized through those hugs our deep connection; the impact and love we brought to each other throughout the years. I reveled in our reciprocal love and realized how much I had grown on from so much.
It is not my age or that I am afraid of time and death. It was not even in remembrance so much. It was a consciousness shift in appreciation for every path we have all chosen, healthy or not. My dying animals reminded me that all life is temporary. I am guaranteed to never physically feel them in this lifetime again. Our few precious moments are embedded in me now like no other. It was a strong realization of closure and life is fleeting and everyone and everything impermanent.
And so I cry. Thinking of the loves I left behind; that I had to walk away from to keep healthy. Perhaps my boundaries are too rigid now simply because I never had them. Perhaps I am running out of patience and tolerance for selfish and self serving people; or those who continue to make poor choices and re-enact episodes like old TV reruns.
As I re-entered Sams Valley I was tired. Complacent. Ambivalent. Feeling entirely done here. At the same time I surrendered to what the universe wants for me. I came home a day early. The next day out of state folks wanted to see my house specifically; and then again today. I am not excited, nor do I care. I feel at this point it doesn’t matter whether I stay here or go elsewhere. Although this was predetermined to be a temporary home. I knew it when I came. I long to return north where the grass is truly greener, the fire danger non existent, the summers much cooler, and to be closer to my kids. It no longer is about leaving for the things I hate here. It’s become about the new adventures that awaits me. For to stay here is to stagnate my own growth and desires. Plus, the memory of too many griefs I suffered here still lingers more than I care to admit.
I always said the universe would send me on from my ‘transition’ house when I was done baking. I am positive its getting closer. I am pretty sure these final pieces were vital to complete this chapter here: feeling this new compassionate love; too fully forgiving myself; and to trust again. I watch the puzzle pieces fall into their places, as they light my pathways ahead. Life continues to be a mystery, yet not so much now. However, my curiosity keeps me going. Because some days, I really want to sleep forever.
