going home

I haven't celebrated Christmas in many, many years. No Christmas tree. No Christmas dinner. Just didn't feel like it. Christmas has been just another day for most of this century. As a matter of fact, I was looking at the same kind of Christmas this year too as everyone in the compound where I live right now in Taos will be gone by Christmas. I thought I'd be here by myself -- again.

Not so anymore.

I'm moving to Oswego, New York. Heading that way on Monday. Right now my last load of laundry is being dried, and just one more suitcase to pack. I've given away even more of my stuff. I've spent my single life purging like crazy, and when I left McKinney, Texas I thought I'd purged enough of my things. Again, it's not what I thought.

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.

This is my time to lighten up, to play, to live with boys again, create art, clothing, and accessories out of tie-dyed fabrics, to laugh incessantly, to dance to every kind of music, to plant a garden with seeds garnered from eaten vegetables, to help cook coconut battered fried chicken, to make up stories, and to love so openly that joy spills out. This is my new adventure. The train I'm taking leaves on Monday and arrives where my heart is leading me on Wednesday.

I am going home. Finally. And, home is not a place. In this case it's a man, and I get to play with him.