Saturday
Feb252012
news.
Saturday, February 25, 2012 at 1:53PM
So what did you decide? she asked me, straight.
I looked down at the desk, ruffled around in my handbag, sat down. Took a breath.
I'm gonna do it...
...
Once upon a time, in a land far, far from here, I spent a long time (oh, 18 months or some-such) chasing love, and I'll admit, here: in part, I was driven by the fear that I'd miss my chance if I didn't.
Yeah. Oops.
That's not something I worry about now. Not really. Kind of, but not really. And that's 67% I don't care if I ever love again/I just want to sleep in a hammock and eat good pears and drink tea and sweet talk my camera all day long forever and ever (amen) and 18% my priorities hath changed and 15% boys are lame.
In search of some neat tell-the-grandkids love story, I ended up with a less-neat, more-mundane I lost sight of myself story, and that's nauseating and embarrassing in the way that grandkids Just Don't Enjoy.
Change has been rumbling for a while.
...
I've been astonished. It's been six months. In that six months: too much sadness. Too much. More than ever. How brutally horrifying to watch, to feel, to experience. Noah and Aaron. Noah and Aaron. Noah. AND. Aaron... AARON. (what. the. hell?)
Amidst the sadness, I've had people step forward and say: 'hey. listen. it's going to be okay. do this. it will help. I'm listening to you. I hear you. Cold hands for grief-hot forehead.'
They don't know it, but they're driving this for me, my way through this grief, this shell-shock, and helping me to stand up as someone who needs to be present for the ones who need it most.
...
I'm earnestly impressed with the feeling that I need to do something, to rattle myself, to change something. How certainly I've been smacked upside the ear with a shoe that leaves a reverse-imprint on my cheek. Upon consultation with a mirror (and the last six months) I've found that it says: tomorrow isn't certain. do something.
Interesting choice of brand name, but, I'm not well-known for being a fashionista.
...
So what did you decide? she asked me, straight.
I looked down at the desk, ruffled around in my handbag, sat down. Took a breath.
I'm gonna do it. One way.
I bought a one way ticket to England and I'm going in July.
...
I'm sorry if we're close and you're finding out this way; it's been itching at my fingertips since Tuesday. I'm kind of coasting on fumes of Stupidity and Impetuousness. We'll talk.
I looked down at the desk, ruffled around in my handbag, sat down. Took a breath.
I'm gonna do it...
...
Once upon a time, in a land far, far from here, I spent a long time (oh, 18 months or some-such) chasing love, and I'll admit, here: in part, I was driven by the fear that I'd miss my chance if I didn't.
Yeah. Oops.
That's not something I worry about now. Not really. Kind of, but not really. And that's 67% I don't care if I ever love again/I just want to sleep in a hammock and eat good pears and drink tea and sweet talk my camera all day long forever and ever (amen) and 18% my priorities hath changed and 15% boys are lame.
In search of some neat tell-the-grandkids love story, I ended up with a less-neat, more-mundane I lost sight of myself story, and that's nauseating and embarrassing in the way that grandkids Just Don't Enjoy.
Change has been rumbling for a while.
...
I've been astonished. It's been six months. In that six months: too much sadness. Too much. More than ever. How brutally horrifying to watch, to feel, to experience. Noah and Aaron. Noah and Aaron. Noah. AND. Aaron... AARON. (what. the. hell?)
Amidst the sadness, I've had people step forward and say: 'hey. listen. it's going to be okay. do this. it will help. I'm listening to you. I hear you. Cold hands for grief-hot forehead.'
They don't know it, but they're driving this for me, my way through this grief, this shell-shock, and helping me to stand up as someone who needs to be present for the ones who need it most.
...
I'm earnestly impressed with the feeling that I need to do something, to rattle myself, to change something. How certainly I've been smacked upside the ear with a shoe that leaves a reverse-imprint on my cheek. Upon consultation with a mirror (and the last six months) I've found that it says: tomorrow isn't certain. do something.
Interesting choice of brand name, but, I'm not well-known for being a fashionista.
...
So what did you decide? she asked me, straight.
I looked down at the desk, ruffled around in my handbag, sat down. Took a breath.
I'm gonna do it. One way.
I bought a one way ticket to England and I'm going in July.
...
I'm sorry if we're close and you're finding out this way; it's been itching at my fingertips since Tuesday. I'm kind of coasting on fumes of Stupidity and Impetuousness. We'll talk.
Reader Comments (3)
Hurrah!! You're coming to England! AND you're going to come and stay with me!!
Yay for one-way tickets! I'm excited for you. And considering we're only 1 timezone away from each other... I'm hoping one day we'll all get together for a cuppa. :)
Enjoy the anticipation. Bought my ticket (other direction) and have been sporting a silly grin since... Welcome to the club. xo
Thrilled for you, dear! There is something wonderful about the anticipation of uncertainty, the uncertainty that comes with one-way tickets and I-don't-know-what-is-on-the-other-side. Prickly fear, the kind that makes your fingers tingle :) Plus, you'll be somewhat closer to me, time-zone anyway.