Hello out there to anyone looking back. And hello to those who aren’t.
2013…rough year. It’s almost over though. I wish it hadn’t been so rough.
January is fast approaching, which means the first death date anniversary for that person I loved is also fast approaching. You know those silly scenes in movies where the protagonists go to visit the graves that hold the rotting bodies (fast turning to dirt) that once were animated by their loved ones? I always thought that was so stupid. There is nothing there but, well, nothing.
Well call me a hypocrite. Yes, I know there is nothing there, but I find myself, sometimes quite unexpectedly, taking a seat beside a piece of stone holding a dead person’s name and…and…and what? Sometimes silence, sometimes gossip, sometimes curses and questions as to why. Why? Why? Why had he done that? Did it hurt? Did he suffer long?
It’s strangely good company.
As I’d mentioned some time before, I ran away last spring to the desert. Well, near the end of summer, I ran away again. This time to the ocean. Seems like that will be my thing, this running away. Why run again? One day I took my father out to lunch and he told me he wanted to die. The next week a doctor told him he was going to die if he didn’t get a surgery, and with a smirk, that asshole decided against the surgery.
I told him he was selfish, I told him it would be cowardly, I asked him if the tables were turned, wouldn’t he want me to fight for life?
And his answer was no.
He said no.
But…after that bitter conversation, and the vocal protests from others, he received the surgery and lives. So while his words told me one thing, he chose to stay after all. Doesn’t that mean he actually does love me? Right? Right? Right?
So I ran to the ocean (before his decision for surgery) and drove the coast line, and visited whitewashed lighthouses, and stood in the cold surf staring out at the eternity of sky and water. And I did not want to leave.
But I did, and I’m happy to be here. I have a good job now. A good job in the valley where I grew up and where my family lives. And I have a nice cozy cabin in the woods where I am staying this winter. A lot of snow falls here and everything is warm inside and picturesque outside. It is good.
I put up my own Christmas tree for the first time in my life. There are wrapped gifts underneath and I plan on hanging lights outside on the cabin porch. I am reconnecting with old friends and trying to make new friends. This is where I have planned to live and grow old and die, so I am trying to grow roots. Or should I say, I’m trying to strengthen the roots already here. And sometimes that means going to a graveyard to grieve, and sometimes that means fighting with someone I love. After all, running away, by definition, means running away from a home already in place.