My life in quotes
So my life is reduced to quotes. Live with it.
if you removed the rocks.
Don't cry because it's over.
Smile because it happened.
but Misery is optional
Another dear friend sent me an e-card with this message:
exactly as it is meant to.
To believe is to look for hidden gifts in every new day.
To believe is to trust everything is going to be all right.
I went back to the middle of the state this week to help a friend in her husband's doctor's office. Lots of filing and faxing. But it taught me a valuable lesson... Just when you think your life sucks (jobless, homeless, loveless), I highly recommend you check out other people's lives and be very thankful for your health. I was amazed and blown away by the people my age who are on multiple meds for multiple maladies. I really have nothing to complain about. The one that brought me to tears was the woman with MS already in a wheelchair... at 28. She found out her diagnosis her senior year in college. Her mother also has it. Quitcher bitchin'.
We went shopping one day and everywhere I turned, sailboats, seascapes, beaches, bubble bath named Sea Island Cotton and Dancing Waters, summer themes. My sister said the same thing happened to her after she was diagnosed with breast cancer and had a mastectomy. She said she saw boobs everywhere. So now when I see things that remind me of Sailor Boy, I say, "Boobs. Everywhere, boobs." It makes me giggle. And it makes people wonder.
Went to dinner with my former priest from back home. A wonderful and wise man who has known me since I was 12. Baptized my daughter. Memorialized my mother. He is retired now, and we still stay in touch. At first we skirted around the many issues in my life because I was on the verge of tears at every question. We met on the day the house closed, and I was very emotional. Once we started to talk about my life in transition, he said, "Men and women see love and passion differently. Maybe you weren't madly and passionately in love at all." (I thought it curious that he used the cliche that I had used all year.) He said, "Maybe... maybe... you were just horny." And instead of tears, I burst out laughing in the restaurant. He turned a mild shade of pink, having forgotten who he was or who I was to him, and we laughed out loud together. It felt good to laugh.
I pre-signed last week without the ex, and it was traumatic. The woman at the title company was, perhaps, the rudest, most unprofessional person I have ever done business with. The ex would not allow me to get in one last time to say "good bye." (I know, I can be maudlin, can't I?) But eventually the real estate agent reminded him that it was my right and she had a key. I am glad I got to see it so I would not romanticize what it once meant to me. It was filthy (again), dog fur and dust everywhere, and the smell of dog urine throughout the basement (again). The place was no longer my home. The whole weekend was very emotional, but especially Tuesday at 10:30 when I knew it was over. Yes, I am glad to be out from under the mortgage, but it truly was the last piece of the puzzle. It is the only house I have known as an adult, and the only house in which we raised the girls. I highly recommend you change houses every so many years so you don't pack all your memories into one location. And I am reminded, especially when others tell of how quickly their house sold, that it took 15 months for this house to sell, and it did so on the weekend I broke up with Sailor Boy. It was what was keeping me here and not moving to be with him. Or was it? Was God my real estate agent? That's another blog post.
But we just can't stay together,
don't you feel it too.
Still I'm glad for what we had
and how I once loved you.
It's too late, Baby, now it's too late.
Though we really did try to make it.
I just can't fake it.
It's too late.