What I Did On My Summer Vacation

Last summer I was in the Northwest at my beloved cabin on the river.  I kayaked, I ran, I water-skied; spending the majority of my time, hiding out, depressed, unable to make a decision to end my marriage; afraid to face people, basically doing anything to avoid the real issues of my life.  My family accused me of a mid-life crisis.  I was in crisis.  It was the middle of my life.  I resent the term. 

After finally making the decision to leave for good, filing for divorce, moving to another state, going through the winter and spring trying desperately to figure out what I wanted, where I was going and wondering if I could ever find what I was searching for, I have found peace.  Peace in the choices I made, regardless of what others may or may not think, peace with judgments my kids may or may not have, I feel peaceful.  I’ve made many mistakes along the way.  I learned hard lessons about myself, paying a high price for what I thought I was fighting for, but couldn’t articulate what it was I thought I needed and wanted, other than my freedom.

As this blog can attest, I have struggled with the hurt, the grief and the loss that I have felt since I left.  I wrote many of my entries out of enormous pain, that sometimes seemed even too much to write.  And my writing was the outlet for my pain.

What a difference a year can make.  Everyone says that time heals.  It does, but as I have learned, just because time passes, it doesn’t mean that you heal.  It means the pain is less.  True healing is happening because I am willing to do the work; to examine my own faults, get the tools and strategies I need to relearn my life to help the process along.  This is what takes time.  It is a journey.  The pain is less, the grief not so severe, but the loss is still there.  The road to recovery is not through just a couple counseling sessions.  I wish it were, because the way I see it, I am about to turn 50 and I don’t want to spend the second half of my life, wallowing in the failure of my marriage.  I want to live and experience as much as I am able to do in order to move forward to fulfill the dreams I’ve always had.  The dreams that were so strong, that I made the decision to disrupt and overthrow my entire existence, comfort and safety, the only life I ever have known, to pursue and fulfill what I needed to survive as an individual.  I risked it all and dared to leave.  I am here to say, I am surviving and beginning to thrive. 

But it is just the beginning.  I have so much more to learn.  A good friend just said to me, as I allowed yet another round of self-pity overwhelm me, “Today…You start today, not tomorrow, not when you get back…today.”  A veil lifted. 

My almost ex-husband gave me a gift.  It’s complicated, but a gift nonetheless.  A gift that allowed me to stay on a lake that was filled with happy memories.  Memories of  my children’s childhoods.  Memories of where I first fell in love with him.  When I first arrived, I was overcome with a sadness that was mixed with the memories of what is now gone.  I sat cross-legged on the dock and stared at the sand where I could still hear the echo’s of my boy’s laughter, the images of my youngest little girl, wading through the water and crossing under the bridge of the dock over and over, while her sister and brothers buried each other in the sand.  Regardless of the divorce, I think I would have felt the same melancholy, because those young children are gone, replaced with adulthood and their own lives.  But it was a bittersweet moment that I am grateful to have experienced right then.   And then I was over it.  I was so happy to be here and I felt so grateful for the gift that I began to cry.

This place is the beginning of the last of my time here for now.  It is hardly the end of what I have experienced and learned.  I have more to share that seems profound and miraculous.  I don't believe in coincidence.  I believe in flow.  I believe in synchronicity.  I believe that things happen exactly the way they should and as I look back over the last six weeks, I believe that this was God's hand.  My friend Meg keeps saying that love is always here.  It is.  I can't wait to write more tomorrow, but for now you have to wait.  I have no internet and this was just a good place to stop until I can get back to this spot.  Stay tuned...I still have flow and it won't go away until I write it.