Saturday, October 10, 2009

Bringing It Home

I had a very busy but very interesting day, visiting with friends, buying altogether too much yarn and loving it, and then visiting a cob house for a tour with friends.

But it was my missing the news here, being away from it for long and long, that made me remember when I was in the midst of that travail.

It had been a difficult marriage - a lot of giving, patience expended, a lot of unease and fear for the future...but I'd remained in it. I left my job of 10 years to work on that marriage and, the day I started my new time off, I found the receipt for the flowers, purchased in another state. Not for me, no.

He returned a day after and there was a kind of surreal quality to the meeting. I was still in stunned dismay and a kind of disbelief that this was my life. He was trying to speak as though it was all perfectly natural and logical and it simply was Not. I couldn't even speak. I was so deep in the anger and pain that I could not form words but only crashed against a handy wall, trying to express that dismay and terror in hoarse cries and screams. I imagine the vision of myself now and it must have been a sight. I know it frightened him. It frightened me.

Indeed, I was the Fixer. Give me a problem and I'll get it taken care of. But I couldn't fix this because he simply didn't want me to. I'd been lost before but it was after this that I could not...there was no way to Be Me. What I was and knew was over. For a few months I wandered around in my life, blessed to have only a cat to worry about. No job, no kids, nothing but breathing. And so it was - breathing and apple sauce. It was the only thing I could keep down.

But one day I saw outside in my beloved swing - the one thing he left me with that I truly could touch and consider real - and it came to me that the sun was shining, birds still sang and all that was - well, it simply Was. And all I had was this - the moment in front of me and what I did with it.

Oh, there are other tales associated with it - petty squanderings of youth and soul, certainly. But I moved through it. It did not win.

I still consider that moment - that screaming voice. It echoes through me and always will, I think. Ripples in the pond of my life, reaching out to infinity.


Brigid said...

Your words are of the few that can make me truly stop and feel. You have a gift, my girl.

Yes, Boulder. I have family in the area. Wish you could have joined us all for Breakfast.

Oddybobo said...

There was no screaming. Simply a silent acceptance. He left. He left me but he also left the Boy, and he hasn't spent much time with the Boy since. That, that breaks my heart. I am glad for good friends. You are a gem. I am so glad to have been able to see you again today! Hopefully I will see you again soon. The Boy wants to be a Texan!

LauraB said...

Oh, B! It's cruel ye are! I used to go every Day after Christmas for vacation, spending a week at the Boulderado. Ah, but the price...

I'm hoping to return this winter - first time in a long time...

O/C - stronger than I, you are. And how sad for the young man - it is a rupture of his reality that will be hard to fix. I daresay moving here will help with that, though! DO come! Oh, please do!! He can ride in the Trooper car!! (Yes, you can, too! LOL)