Something happened recently that really upset me. You probably know the kind of upset I mean — bad dreams, sleeplessness, anxiety. I have had a hard time shaking off the feeling, the perturbation  (what a great word), with no understanding of why I couldn’t just “get over it.” Ultimately, like the Grinch, I “puzzled and puzzled ‘till [my] puzzler was sore” and had a Grinch-y epiphany, a breakthrough, a self-awakening. 

At least a few people apparently already knew the truth and one person told me in a — I’m telling you this because you need to hear it — kind of way, blunt but not mean. He handled it well, joking without joking and allowing me to acknowledge IT without embarrassment. That was the first dent in the armor of my certainty. It took some time — several months if I’m going to be completely honest — for me to absorb the truth, for the armor to break, but finally and completely, thanks to this latest blow … it has.  

So, what next? I’m not really sure, to be perfectly honest. I now know something about myself that I have to explore and consider … and change. Growth is painful and self-reflection can be excruciating. None of us like to look in the mirror and see a version of self that is less flattering than the one we’re used to seeing. Since I’m already on a journey of self-discovery, the timing is good, I guess, but the discomfort is not lessened. As Jane Austen wrote in Pride and Prejudice, “Till this moment, I never knew myself.” I am ashamed. 

And now for something completely different* … 

After leaving my last job, I was confident of two things: 1) I needed to work in Corporate America; and 2) I would immediately get another job. I have probably already mentioned in previous posts that I applied for every job for which I was even remotely qualified and interviewed for some subset of that. 

Not long after I started applying for jobs, however, I also began seriously writing again, something I haven’t done in 25 years. So far this year, I’ve written two picture books, a bunch — and I really mean a bunch — of poems, and two novels. One of those novels is out in the universe right now, looking for a publisher. I don’t know if it will be successful and I don’t know if that matters. 

As Alexander Graham Bell said, “When one door closes, another opens; but we often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door that we do not see the one which has opened for us.”  I have chosen to see and walk through that open door. Some days, I ask myself what in HECK I’m doing but at the same time, I am so grateful, every day, to sit at this computer, where I am right now, and dream.

*Happy 50th Anniversary to Monty Python and many thanks for the ministry of silly walks and for vikings who sing about spam.

The title quote is from You’ve Got Mail. 

Wishing for you the gift of having someone in your life who SEES you.  

Much love. 

A story:  I recently met a divorced and remarried parent of my son’s friend. We were talking casually, as one does, while waiting for our kids to finish their activities when he impulsively told me that he knew there was someone else out there for me. He said that he understood that I would always treasure my relationship with Ken but that I would meet someone new with whom I could share life’s adventures.

I was … surprised? We don’t know each other well enough for confidences but I could tell that he intended his comment as a reassurance, as if meeting someone was an event “devoutly to be wished.” (That’s a Georgette Heyer quote, in case you don’t recognize it.)  In Terri Irwin’s words, though, “I already had my happily ever after” and so I told him. Honestly, I’m just getting to know this person who lost her life partner and then left her well-paid but abusive job. She’s odd — oh my dog, you have no idea what an odd one she is — and she’s cantankerous but maybe, just maybe, she’s okay.

This week, we’re in earnest preparation for a wedding coming up in our extended family. Honoring personal privacy, I won’t go into details. It’s enough to say that we need dress clothes! We’re really not formal occasion folks (next wedding better be a BBQ!) and the boys have grown so tall that nothing in the closet fits. So, with Ken close to our hearts, we went suit shopping this week. They did not enjoy the trying-on activities but they teased each other mercilessly, as brothers sometimes do.  You had to be there but let’s just say that the Richie Rich jokes flowed like wine.

It was bittersweet, seeing these two boys looking like the man and young man that they are and knowing that Ken (who also passionately hated shopping) would have longed to be part of this particular ritual. A difficult thing about losing one’s life partner is that every event, every rite of passage, every holiday, every vacation is as much about their absence as it is about the occasion itself. The Bride is honoring Ken at the wedding, which is kind, but it’s also wrenchingly painful, a visible reminder of a loss that needs no reminding.

What’s my point, you might fairly ask? I don’t really know. We’re so, so happy for the Happy Couple and at the same time we’re dreading yet another set of pictures that won’t include him.

Tolkien reminds us that life itself is a gift beyond measure and that, as a result, what punishments of gods are not gifts? I think about that a lot. If I could go back in time and know the outcome without being able to change it, would I choose the same path? I answered that question for one of my kids recently. Yes, absolutely, without question, I would do it all again … and maybe that’s my point, after all.

Wishing you joy on a beautiful Fall day.