I know driving is very bad. It’s a very bad thing. It will probably be the end of North America society, I know. It is most especially bad to be driving a great honking 4×4 in the city to get to a friend’s house, a mere ten blocks away.
But sometimes there is good in the bad, and on a day, just the other day, I was doing just that, driving my great honking 4×4 from my home to a friend’s house, a mere ten blocks away.
And as I drove two things happened.
The first was I was completely smitten by the way the leaves are turning red. We don’t get so much of that in these parts and I think those deep colours are a marvelous thing, even it is about things ending and dying. At least they do it in a magnificent way. That colour of red brought up a sort of satisfied happiness that I haven’t felt in a long time, and it was so nice to feel it and just be blown away by that colour and by something that is so much bigger than me and my itsy-bitsy problems.
The second thing that happened, on the heels of the first, was I was struck in that moment by the thought that I am glad I am me and given the option, I wouldn’t want to be anyone else. Even though my life has been a shitstorm of unpleasantness and struggles for the last two years, I am glad I am who I am.
I’m not gonna say that I am happy I had cancer, but I am glad that I had the team of folks supporting me, and helping me find my way through it. I am happy that so many of the folks I know or have known over the years made a decision to show up and help. I had a really amazing group of folks, friends and loved ones and health care professionals, who did what they could to help me, and I am grateful for all that.
I could wish I had a better paying job, but I have a job that works really well with me getting my library courses so hey, I am not a bank president and I don’t have a yacht. And I know I am gonna have to squeeze to make ends meet over the next while…
But it all works for me for right now.
And I have some really good friends.
I am pretty much at the end of my rope when it comes to talking about whatever the latest crappy thing is that I am dealing with. Cuz frankly, if I didn’t know me and was just reading my text on-line, I’d say, “Whoa, that chick has a personality disorder or somesuch, cuz like Roseanne Rosannadanna said, it’s always something.”
Through the cancer, lots of folks showed up, some of them from out of the blue.
Now it’s divorce time, and lots of those same folks are still out there, propping me up with their care and attention and sweet words. I really appreciate the folks who have stepped up, especially lately, and patted me on the head, called or e-mailed to see how I am doing. Bunches of folks have made gestures to let me know that they care. Thanks.
And I am grateful to have been able to spend the last 5 – 7 years (depending on when you start counting) woven into Elaine’s life and she into mine.
Before it all went to hell on a handjack, we had the best time and had the best adventures, even when that was just going to get cat food together.
We were there for each other no matter what.
We had great vacations and we had a great time running errands. We had Christmas dinners that brought our friends together in our home and some of the best time was just the two of us at home alone.
It’s hard to stitch that gaping wound closed and wander off into the future but apparently that’s what we do now. So, this is me trying.
Dunk a chien, darlin’.
So, it’s been a rough ride and there have been losses I never anticipated and that leave me scrambling to find some new direction.
And even with all that, I am glad to be me, and wouldn’t want to be anyone else.