Wednesday, June 25, 2014

Living

Dear readers, I have been a busy girl.

Yes, I've gone on a few dates (1. Offered to send me penis pics, 2. Absolutely no connection, and 3. Not sure what I think but maybe a friend?), but that's not what I'm doing most of the time.

I'm living.  I'm really, really living.

I'm working my tail off to be the best Development Director I can be.  I'm learning at an extraordinary rate, and proud of what I've already accomplished.  I'm mothering, and Katherine and I feel closer than ever, I think.  I'm mowing my lawn, cooking dinners, packing lunches.

But I'm also calling the sick friend to listen, going to the beach after work, makings s'mores in the back yard after dinner with Katherine and her friends.  I've given up on the way I used to entertain, but tonight a couple friends came over and we grilled sausages and corn on the cob, and I put out some veggies and dip, and called it dinner. Nobody complained or mocked me.

I'm lying in the hammock for a few minutes here and there.  I'm sitting on the porch swing in my bathrobe in the wee hours of the morning, sipping coffee.  I'm organizing summer hikes. 

This is the deep stuff of living.  These small moments add up to a life.

Perfect?  Not even close.  My fridge needs a good scrubbing inside, my yard is mowed but the "landscaping" is a disaster (the quotes around that word are because I'm not sure it could even be considered landscaping, it's not that well done), I'm really far behind at work and I have a lot to learn, and I'm a great mom (I think!) but I'm also a divorced mom, and, well, that's imperfect.  Money is working out but too tight, my car needs work and I'm avoidant, and I have a running injury and I've put on weight.

And yet.

And yet it all feels pretty good, even the imperfect parts, because I have the perspective that I'm alive, and that it's summer, and that my daughter loves me and we're healthy and fed and loved.

***

Today I visited a new colleague in the hospital.  She's in liver failure, likely a return of her cancer, and it is dire.  I don't know if this is the last time I'll ever see her, but it is possible.

Why is it that some people - like me - get to put on high heels and a dress and go to a job they love, and come home and make s'mores with their child over a fire pit after dinner, and another person is puffed up beyond recognition with yellow skin, in the fetal position in a hospital bed?

It hits close to home.  It could be me - it happens to cancer survivors more than I want to admit.

But right now, I am so well.  My skin is golden from weekend hours in the sun.  My legs are strong.  I laugh a lot.

***

Last weekend I was volunteering to register people for a charity 5k.  A woman came up and opened up to me about her divorce story sort of out of the blue, a tale of woe (aren't they all?).  I told her that I, too, was divorced.  She whispered bitterness to me, but I said, "I don't know.  I think we're all muddling through, doing the best we can, and all I know is that my marriage no longer worked, but I don't want to be bitter about it, because it is what it is and it's out of my control."  She explained that her situation was worse than mine (she did not know, how could she?  should I have whispered about my darkest days in return?) and that she wasn't working because he could pay support and it served him right.

Not me.

I don't get spousal support, and I'm not bitter. I'm grateful to be able to support myself (with child support), but even more grateful that I'm just not bitter.  I have reasons to be bitter, a long list that I work hard at forgetting, now that I've made sure I'm not in that circumstance any longer and not trapped any more, why would I want to be bitter?

Being bitter is no way to be alive.  Life can be so rotten, and so many crappy things can happen, but who wants to live in that shadow?  Because life is also so rich and gorgeous and beautiful and sunny, that I prefer to keep my face in the sunshine.

***

Life is imperfect.  But my daughter and I are healthy, my dog loves me, and the eagles circle overhead, and there are campfires to be made and hikes to be hiked and water to be swum in and friends to call and a job to do...and I'm alive.  I'm really, really alive.

***

A little side note - I ditched OkCupid again.  I really have just a horrible time liking anyone, and I have to imagine it's me, not them.  All those people rated me well, and I didn't like them back.  All those messages, and I didn't want to write back.  All those "wassup" and other awful introductory messages just don't stir me, or make me feel alive.  I think I'm happier alone than hanging out on that website, and so for now, I give up.  There must be a better way, and if there's not, well, that's okay.  You'll find me on the hammock reading a book, or in my PJs watching a movie on my laptop, or in my office, or on the beach....but I'd rather do any of that than have another 20 coffee dates with people I have no desire to see again.

I'm going to have a great summer.  :-)

2 comments:

  1. This is such a very touching post. I'm glad to know that strong women like you are still around. It stuns me to know that above all that has happened, you have managed to keep your head up and that's what matters the most. To see the world for both the good and the bad, and accepting that nature and adjusting, is something not everyone is capable of. I salute you for holding fast to your heart. You are such an inspiration. All the best! :)

    Jean Walsh @ Romanowski Law Offices

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  2. Jean, what a nice response. Thank you so much! I wish you every happiness - thank you for taking the time to brighten my day. :-)

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