Sunday, December 5, 2010
All of my belongings now fit into two large suitcases and a duffel bag. I'm arriving in Oswego with no past. I've gotten rid of all journals and now most of my pictures. I've held onto a few pictures of my daughter, but all others are gone.
This move has been a no-brainer. It has come strictly from my heart. I am working with someone creating clothing from his dyed fabrics. The joy I feel from working with his masterpieces is indescribable. The passion I feel for working with him has led to something very personal. There is a connection between the two of us that has made this move across the country the easiest thing I've ever done. I am told several times a day about how cold it is there, the amounts of snow they have every winter, and how poverty-stricken the area is.
It doesn't matter. I'm moving to be with the man, not to be in the place. The love I feel for him is so deep and natural and real. It's the truest thing in my life. It's the one thing I'm more sure of than anything else. And, it's all that matters.
I'm 54 years old. I'm not a young teenager that's walking into a situation thinking it's all rosy and sweet. No, I'm looking at it as fun. This adventure is my fun time. My marriage was hard work, drudgery, and putting happiness at bay. This relationship has just been so much fun. If I could only impart the joy I feel brainstorming with him, looking at his picture of super heroes overseeing his cups of dyes, hearing about the nativity set where each figure is about one inch tall, and looking at the picture of the glass baby Jesus in front of the margarita mix bucket. He opens my world with his fascination of how macaroni could actually look like an angel. When I look at the picture he sent me, I can't help but smile and get excited about creating new Christmas memories.