This has been my longest break in a year’s time from this blog. I had just referred to it as a lifeline when I let go. My last post I spoke of finding hope in an unexpected gift, but even that little flicker didn’t seem to last long. I’m struggling. I’ve applied for several jobs, only the one I wrote about last time I posted called me back. I haven’t been working on any art. Just not feeling it. I did a very small piece for tonight.
I also mentioned some life changing news was at hand. I wasn’t at liberty to say so before, at least until it was official, but my daughter is moving to New York. Her husband has gotten a new job there. It is an incredible career opportunity. They are young and excited. For me it is bittersweet. I am very proud of John, and I know living in New York is something Jessica will love, but it is far and I will miss them terribly. I am stealing myself up for what is soon to come, but it isn’t easy. It has been a tough year with no end in sight, I knew this move was in their future, but it is one more hard thing for me to get through at the moment. I also understand that it is life. My Dad left his family behind in Ireland in July of 1956, my Mom that same October. They didn’t return for seventeen years, leaving friends and family far behind. Neither saw their fathers again. I left Chicago just about eleven years ago to head west to California and it broke my Mom’s heart despite my promises to come back often, and to have her visit as well. I guess I now know just how much it hurts. The good thing is that it isn’t 1956, I am fairly computer savvy, there are cell phones and texts, and although I am absolutely terrified of flying, my flying companion Xanax is always ready for the trip.
Life never goes as you think it will. Years ago my son Brian gave me a recording of a song called “What Sarah Said”, from the band Death Cab For Cutie. I liked the melody but hadn’t really paid attention to the lyrics. Then my Mom died, and suddenly the song had real meaning for me. I thought about it again today. I spent the day with Jessica. A lovely Mother’s Day gift. A day out with my daughter. I was thinking tonight about all the plans I thought I had for my future, our future, Dan and mine, for hers, for Brian’s, and then the line from the song popped into my head:
And it came to me then that every plan
Is a tiny prayer to father time
There are no plans, only hopes and dreams, and reality. My new reality. I have no idea what mine will be, what Dan and I together will do, where Brian will be in a year or five years, he is still in the process of self-discovery. I know my tiny prayer includes happiness and self-realization for my son, success for my daughter and son-in-law in their new journey, and many visits to New York. I’m feeling a little lost and out of sorts these days. I don’t know what life has in store for me, for us, but one thing I do know,
I know I will miss my girl.
Part of my heart is leaving town…