Brownstonelit's Blog

2/19/12

Today marks the end of a chapter in my life and I said a quick farewell to the house that a year ago had cradled my hopes for a new beginning. Once cleared of last minute clutter, I latched the door for the last time on the old me who held onto everything…furniture, paintings, old pots and pans, fear, doubt and regret. If I had left by boat it would have taken me less than two minutes to get to my new life and my new home, but that wouldn’t have allowed me the chance to purge.  Suffering under the weight of a soft Spring rain and a few final trinkets and boxes of pictures I’d found of the children when they were young, the farm and my parents… I felt both heavy and light at the same time as the distance gathered in my rear view mirror.

It was an odd epiphany, but as I drove my husband and myself away from one door and down a lovely long drive to another, the weight shifted and the transition was over. Though the drive took only 8 minutes, in another way it had taken a good ten years. The last time I felt such peace in a home lay in a place tucked inside photos at the bottom of a box at my right; photos of the farm. The first place I met Julie.

Isn’t it funny how life works? We try so hard to evolve and bring new adventures and meaning to our lives, only to turn over one small Polaroid and realize that we had been living the life we were meant at the very instant we decided it wasn’t enough. As I crossed the cove and left my old life behind, I was reminded of my new one. Just before my tires left the asphalt of one county and dug into the pitted road of another, an errant car passed by boasting a bald eagle on its plates and I smiled.

Charley was with me no matter where I might wander, reminding me of the injustices I would continue to fight on his behalf and that of many others to come. As I slid into the leafy drive of my new sanctuary, the sun spat a ray or two across the bow of the ‘Stang and lightened the landscape and shore before me. I smiled from the heart. It was only a moment before the drizzle found its way back to the windshield and though I confessed I knew it would not be all sunshine in this place either… I knew it would be a place I could call home… a haven from the outside world, a place to start from scratch and a place from whence great writing would ensue and I was at peace.

Thank you God…

Thank you Charley… and thank you Don.

Oh and BTW’s? I reread Hazel’s diary last night. Did you know that Atlanta offerred Charley a transfer in June of 1966? Hmmmm… wonder why?

I know why!

This entry was posted on February 19, 2012 at 8:20 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.