Friendship is Good Timing

My writing partner and her husband are moving away today, embarking on a new journey and adventure. This move is the reward for a job well done, a trust well managed, and a new task that they are trusted to fulfill. I am happy for them, but sad for me.

Years ago, before I joined the writing community, I spent a great deal of time at home, alone. It was my norm to look for ways to fill the minutes and hours of my free time away from the office. To put it kindly, I was bored.  It was a lull in my life that was created at the crossroads of another past friendship.  It was a time for discovering myself.

Fast forward some years later, and I find myself with a life full of family and friends that understand that crazy determination that comes when you finally admit to yourself, what you and others have known all along; you are a writer, and your task at this stage in your life is to write. It was my taking a step forward and working towards my writing that brought my writing partner into my life. We meshed in an easy way, that filled our time together with work, encouragement, comfort, peace, accomplishment, and most of all, laughter. I’d find myself doing something days after one of our writing sessions, and laughing out loud by myself over some story or incident.  Her friendship has brought me so much joy.

I’m not sure what my Fridays will look like now that she is moving away, but I can only thank her and her family for taking me in, welcoming me into their circle, and giving me this wonderful gift of friendship, love and laughter. These gifts, though free, are often the item that many can never afford. 

It’s another time of discovery for me. It’s a time of reevaluating my life and the tasks and goals that I set for myself. It’s a time for putting things in motion, and I can thank my writing partner again, for being the force behind the actions that I am taking. I’ll never be a type A like she is, but I feel slightly infected with her drive. Starting in a few days, I’ll be moving forward with these tasks without her constant local encouragement. 

The truth is that people are always coming in and out of our lives. Some leave with the ferocity of thunder and lightning, with effects long remembered, and others leave with the quiet shutting of a door, noticed, but otherwise without impact.  My writing partner’s leaving is the thunder and lightning, but also like the warmth of summer sun, greatly loved, always remembered, but whose return is constantly wished for, and awaited.  If we’re lucky, we meet those who change our lives in positive ways, and validate us in the things that we know. We hope that another will notice, and love us, with all of our fault lines, cracks, and damage.

It is a true blessing to find that. So fair winds and following seas my friend. While I wish your a calm journey; I know that no matter what storms come your way, you are beyond prepared. I lift my glass to you, and look forward to the next time we share a laugh, chat like school girls, and break bread, together. 

The Power of Lightning

There are days that you stand on the edge of a shore watching the firefly in your bottle dim a little with every minute that passes, and you just want to look for a moment longer before you let it go.  A month ago I found a 10 week old kitten in my cousin's yard.  She was cute, sweet and curious, and in less than a few hours she dug a place in my heart where I suspect she will always reside.  The morning I took her to the shelter I knew I was breaking my own heart in leaving her there, but I knew that it was the right decision.  Sadly, most relationships are never so cut and dry.

This past weekend, after four years, I finally got to see "him" again, the first "him" in my life.  We all have a "him."  He's the guy that you meet when you're barely formed outside of the womb that somehow manages to hold this tiny thread that is linked to your soul forever.  Some people escape, either in loving someone real; and by real I mean, someone that loves them back, or they escape into real life where the stress of the world forces them to move on.

I however am broken.  Without rhyme or reason, without malice aforethought, and partially without the sense that God gave a goose; can anyone back up the idea that a goose is without sense, I went to see him.  Through roadblocks, like an impromptu visit from his uncle, his niece having a party at his house, and the sudden appearance of a Con Edison truck blocking me from escaping my street, we managed to finally do what has eluded us for four years, we met up for tea.

Now, let me say that while I can't explain it, we have chemistry.  It's not the kind of chemistry that powers love affairs and marriages.  It's that inadvertent switch that clicks on whenever we are in the same room; at least it used to be.  My heart doesn't quite skip a beat when I'm with him now, and that might have something to do with age and wisdom. (Okay, the wisdom part makes me giggle too.)

As usual, I was happy to see him, and his smile seemed to confirm the same for him.  I love being with him, looking him directly in his eyes.  I love when he holds my hand, and I could be forever happy if his arms were the ones I was folded into every day when I got home.  Okay, I'm a romantic, and to me being with him is like lightning; unpredictable, beautiful, and deadly.  Being with him is like an old habit; but this time something was different.

Maybe after all of these years I have finally grown up.  Maybe real life is starting to set in. Or maybe, the truth of the situation is finally too much for either of us to skim over.  I can't help but notice that he's impatient, and a touch cranky, and I'm not the forever hopeful girl I used to be with him, trading hope for the nervousness I feel worrying about how he sees me.  They say you can't capture lightning in a bottle, and I'm wondering how long it will be before we no longer look forward to these visits.

Years ago I used to dream about a future between us and even when it was painfully clear we would never be a couple I carried a special place in my heart for being with him.  At my current age and season of life I have no idea what I think about us.  Isn't it odd that as we grow older we have to make peace with the fact that sometimes we don't know any more that we did as children?  I can't help but wonder if he too is standing on the edge of a shore waiting for the last moment to open the bottle and let the lightning out.

I Am Honored

The big day finally arrived and it didn’t hurt a bit; at least not physically. And of all the things I feel today, I feel honored the most. Today I can’t help but think about my college roommate who never saw her 25th birthday. She will always be young; but what a price she paid for that privilege. I can’t help but think about my high school classmate who took her own life a year ago. They will never possess the gift that I am experiencing today. Let it be said that age, like life, is a gift.

I’ve always used 40 as a benchmark for giving advice. I remember specifically writing to a loved one years ago when they expressed dissatisfaction with their life saying “better to change now than wake up on your 40th birthday unhappy.”

There’s something about that number that requires us to accept adulthood, create a plan for our lives, decide what we really want, find ourselves, and most importantly, to make peace with what has happened so far.

So today, I freely accept this awesome gift. I thank God for the chance to experience this amazing moment in my lifetime. When you look at the age of our planet and our world, you can’t help but acknowledge that we are but a blip on time's radar. How lucky to be part of all that!!

40 Is More Than 20 with experience, and I'm So Not 20 Anymore!!!

I got a call from "her" today.  We all have a "her."  She's that woman you know that either has what you want, or could with the curl of her finger get it.  And to make matters worse, she's 20 something and leaps and bounds ahead of where I was at her age.

It's been an interesting week, as I try to absorb the fact that in a few days I am going to be one of the scariest things a woman can be, "Single, Childless, Renting. . . and 40."  No matter how you feel about turning 40 you can't help but find yourself assessing and reassessing the life that you are living and the things that you have acquired or wish you had.  I can't help but wonder about those elusive goals that I continue to wish to complete, and the ones that got away.

There are things that you are forced to admit won't work out, and the things that you are forced to admit you no longer have the will to fight for; either because they're no longer worth your effort, or you've just come to that place where your heart can no longer deal with the pain that comes with the war you're waging for the sake of having them.  I am there with more items than I can list; and one of those items is "him."  Maybe I'm finally a grownup, but for the last couple of weeks as I've inched closer to "that" day I have tried, and failed miserably, to not think of him.  I've tried, to not think about what could have been if. . . and I've tried to not think about her, the woman he would give anything to be with, and who already got more out of her short time with him than I could manage in the three years that I kept him in my life.

As I struggle with everything; life, love, beauty, accomplishment, faith and most importantly the future, I push forward and hopefully unlike Lot's wife, look back without the detrimental consequences.  I question everything and wonder what road I might take if I had the chance to do it all again; if I were 20 again.

So as my personal debate wages on, the phone rings and it's her.  She just needs trivial help with a project for her new job and I'm the one that answers the phone.  She's carefree and happy and obviously focused on the moment.  As we hang up and I wish her well and tell her it'll be good to see her in the future, my heart aches a little.  She has an air of freedom that comes with this time in her life; and I can't help but admit to myself that for all the options that lay ahead I'm just not 20 anymore. . . and it matters more than it ever did before.

Open Wounds

Every week for the last month and a half I've been going to the wound care center to have my leg treated.  Three weeks ago the nurses treating me said that I would probably soon be free of my visits.  You can't imagine my excitement.  After all of the pain and the stress, my leg was finally healing in a meaningful way; and the wound was finally closing.  It's a great victory after a very troubling time; and proof that some wounds even large painful ones do actually heal.  "Some wounds..."

I found myself tearing up today as I got dressed and even as I drove to work.  It's "his" birthday and I can't help but think so much about him today even more than I do every other day.  I imagine that as he gets birthday wishes he's less than excited waiting for that one special message; but it isn't mine.  With my hair pulled back and a flowing blue dress on, I felt pretty except for the red watery eyes that betrayed my emotions.  After so many months his absence still saddens me in a way I can't fully wrap my mind around or explain; and it's even worse not knowing where he is and what he is doing; especially today.  Two years ago on his birthday he was here and I couldn't help but think how lucky I was that he was spending it with me.  It seems so long ago now.

He once told me that he was so sad when he thought about someone that he just couldn't breathe; and today I know exactly what he was talking about.  It's that feeling where your sadness is so heavy that it feels like an elephant is sitting on your chest and your heart just wants to burst out of you. It feels like your heart, head and stomach are in knots getting tighter with each passing moment.

I couldn't understand why he wouldn't admit to the person that made him feel that way how he was feeling; but I realize now that I could never tell him that his absence makes me feel this way.  Who wants to admit to the person that they care for, that they are responsible for making you feel as horrible as one can feel without being in physical pain.

I can usually fake it; pretend that I'm not thinking about him.  I can even make people think it doesn't matter when they ask me if I've heard from him. . . usually.  I heard it said once that there are things we don't say because we just don't like the way they sound; "I still miss him, and it hurts more than a little every day."  Today, the pain is as real as it was the day he left; and even without saying the words I can't fake it.

Sometimes I wish I was someone who could just throw people and the memory of them away, but I'm not.  My friends said I should just tell him good riddance and walk away, but that's just not me.  I've never been able to just walk away from someone I loved; or hurt them even though they hurt me.  I could never wish him harm, or even discount him; and putting him away has proven difficult.  I still want the best for him; and to know that he's okay and happy.  The right thing to do would be to never think of him again.  Life would be so much easier if I could; but instead, I find myself still bandaging up what should by now be old wounds.

The Search for the Old Me

When I was in college I used to keep a yearly list of things that I wanted to accomplish that year.  I remember putting the loose leaf paper on the wall with simple plans for the next 365 days of my life.  The list would have things like get a 4.0 GPA or pay off my credit card, or even fall in love.  It was a time in my life when I could simply put a list together of all the things I wanted for myself and in my life.  The younger version of myself was so sure of herself and what she wanted.  I miss her.

Yesterday, Steve Jobs died and one of the quotes that kept coming up was from a speech he gave at a Stanford University commencement.  "Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life.  Don't get trapped by Dogma - which is living with the results of other people's thinking.  Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice.  And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition.  They somehow already know what you truly want to become.  Everything else is secondary."

I look at that quote and I feel paralyzed.  I don't know what I want.  I used to be so sure about what I wanted; even when I wasn't sure about who I really was.  Now I'm feeling like a shadow of my previous self.  I promised myself that I would get to a place in my life when my decisions would be made by my heart and my soul and not my wallet; yet here I am 6 months before my 40th birthday and I'm even less sure of the decisions that I want to make.  How do you stand up and demand what you want out of your life when you don't know what that really is?

They say that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.  After everything I've been through over the last 22 years and even over the last 6 weeks, I feel like a stronger person than ever.  I just wish I knew where to put my strength.

The Gut Check

Three years after going into remission for my fancy tummy issues I find myself back in the grind of pain and disease again.  There is something very difficult about dealing with a health issue that if controlled won't kill you; but won't go away.  It's humbling staring down a life that will be forever filled with discomfort and limits when deep down inside your gut you know that you could do so much more.  No family member or friend, no matter how loving and caring can fully understand the weight of that.  The emotional toll can be more weighty than the physical; and considering the amount of pain I can experience, that is saying a lot.

The other day I had to go to the urgent care center when the pain became too much for me to bear; again.  The doctor asked how long I had the condition and I replied over 20 years.  He asked why I still had my colon; and for the first time ever, I couldn't give a straight answer.  He explained that giving it up would permanently put me in remission and relieve me of my pain.  I have to admit that for the first time I'm actually thinking about it.  My reasons for not considering this before have recently changed.

For years I've resisted any talk of cutting into my gut, because I rely on it for everything.  It's my gut-check and my internal thermometer of the outside world.  It's my link to my woman's intuition, and my last link to normalcy and everything I hold dear.  But most importantly, it's been the hope of a life I wanted to live; being loved with the possibility of a husband and children.

I'm very observant and intuitive, and as a writer it serves me well.  It's always been my fear that my gut really is the brains behind all of that; so I've held on because I've always believed that holding on to my normalcy would bring greater rewards.

Two weeks ago the guy I've been in love with for the last two plus years changed his life completely because the woman he loves won't love him back.  Rod Stewart was right when he said "When the one you love is in love with someone else, don't you know its torture, its a living hell."  When the person you care for makes a decision like that, you have to reevaluate your own decisions.  Someone recently told me that I'd never be the one that he loves; and maybe its my lot in life to always be the one that loves but doesn't get loved in return.  While it saddens me, even I can't ignore the obvious.  Maybe it's time to completely let go.

So I can't help but wonder if maybe its time to give up the gut and everything that goes with it.  I've been holding out for the marriage and pregnancy and the closer I get to a certain age I can't help but wonder if it's time to plan for a different future.