The Road Ahead

Two weeks ago, today, I started my new life. Gone is the emotional overload that accompanied this change...stress, anticipation, anxiety, sadness, excitement, fear...I haven't really had time to fully process this whole experience. A week of unpacking and getting settled was followed by shopping for miscellaneous necessities that go toward making a household function. Then there was a family reunion to distract me from the stark reality of my situation—which was great by the way. Now, without any kind of frantic schedule looming on the horizon, I'm left thinking...what next?

My life is just that now...my life. I will always have a connection to my past, and I will always be a mother to two amazing girls, but suddenly I don't feel defined by that any longer. Who am I? What do I want from life? The landscape before me is vast, wide open, a long road stretching into an empty horizon. Will the road ahead be rough, filled with potholes and roadblocks? Will it be a scenic highway with fantastic points of interest to enjoy? Will I be a lonely traveler, or will I have company on my journey? My life at this moment is the very definition of the unknown. 

 All of us face an uncertain future, so I am not unique in not knowing what is in store. For me, however, it is the first time in my adult life that I am on my own. I alone hold the keys to open whatever doors I choose. It is up to me to be fearless and passionate in my pursuit of happiness and success. I intend to make each moment count, to make each day memorable, and to live life out loud...with my whole heart...accepting whatever the Universe has in store for me, be it road bumps-a-lot or the scenic highway.

Coppertone, Chlorine and Sunshine

After a week of moaning, begging, and sullen, forlorn stares, I finally gave in and took the girls to Lake Lanier Beach and Water Park today. My anxiety was twofold—first I haven't been in the sun, tanning bed, or even applied the first drop of self tanner in about two years. Looking at me in bright direct sunlight is probably akin to someone shining a Xenon flashlight into your eyes when you're not expecting it, so I stayed in the shade most of the day. Secondly, I haven't donned a swimsuit in about a year. Seeing pictures of myself circa Spring Break '08 cured me of ever wanting to be seen in public again, much less in a swimsuit. I weep for that poor woman and the sadness that consumed her. I nervously rifled through the various sizes and brands of swimsuits I've collected over the years—Victoria's Secret...not quite yet...Land's End...not that big anymore...Old Navy...too cutesy...I finally slipped into a black one piece, and breathed a sigh of relief...perfect. 

One thing about being half naked in a crowd is that there is always someone, or many someones who look worse than you do. People, let me tell you, I thought Six Flags was the place to go to feel better about yourself, well—two words, water. park. Oh yeah. I walked outta that place feelin' downright sexy, baby!! Some of the worst sights weren't the back fat and cellulite, but the dark, leathery, wrinkled skin. It was frightening. I mean, there comes a point when you are tan enough. Admittedly, everyone looks better in the summer with a sun kissed glow, but these people looked sun dried! Every once in a while I'd catch one of them curiously looking over at me in the shade, in my big sun hat and dark glasses at which point I would casually cross my legs, making sure the sun's rays reflected off my alabaster skin causing them momentary blindness...yeah...enjoy your melanoma...I'm going to look as young as I can for as long as I can, thank you very much!! 

My favorite part of today was coming home. The girls smelled like Coppertone, chlorine and sunshine. Their cheeks pink and freckled, and their faces alight with smiles. The pure, honest smiles that only come from children. Yeah, it is in these moments that they show me what life is all about...they make me a better person...they become my teachers...they never let me forget my inner child...Never take for granted the little things, or the present moments, for it is in them that we will find ourselves.

A New Beginning

Well, the hard part is over, at least that's what I'm hearing. From an emotional standpoint I can see some truth in that, but from a new beginning perspective the outlook is frightening. For instance, everyone knows that moving sucks. Let me tell you it sucks even more when you are on a tight budget and have to do it yourself. My body is so racked with pain this morning I feel like I've been strapped to some kind of medieval torture device for the last two days. To add insult to injury, I was soooo looking forward to a nice hot shower last night to help ease my battered old body into a dreamless sleep. What I got instead was more pain and agony. Whoever installed the shower head in this place was a sadist—the devil himself I tell you. I felt like I was being pressure washed by thousands of little tiny sharp needles. I had to turn the water off in order to lather up, and then dance around with my arms shielding my most delicate parts once the water was back on. I don't think I got all the soap off me, but I was too tired to care.

Sleep came quickly for me, mercifully. The dawn came just as quickly, unfortunately. I had to reach for my sleep mask at 7:00 this morning when the sun pierced through my blinds and burned a hole in my eyelids. As it turns out, this townhouse gets full frontal sun all day, and my bedroom is, you guessed it—in the front. By nine o'clock this morning my room was easily ten degrees hotter than the back of the house. It felt like a few degrees hotter than hell to me. Anyone who knows me, knows that the first thing on my list of things to do today is to find room darkening shades...blackout blinds...black paint...whatever it takes to cool me off!!! So, I get to go spend more money today that I don't have, to fix shower heads, and the bedroom sauna, but there is a smile on my face and the faith that everything is going to be just fine.