But right now I am just profoundly grateful for the way I feel, that I am returning to rightness, that everything has been laid out before me in this way that makes the utmost sense.
and:
But what if this is it? What is this is my life - not the prologue, not the introduction, but the real thing?
and then again:
Late this afternoon, as we headed back, with the sun pouring in and the trees changing colors and The Band playing on the radio, I thought, “Man, is there any place else in the world I’d rather be right now?” and that answer was no. And then tonight, as we hit the Triborough Bridge with me behind the wheel and my friends laughing and singing and the whole skyline unfurled on our right, I thought it again, and the answer was still the same.
Things are flux-y. I can’t put things in my calendar, can’t figure out what’s happening from one day to the next, don’t know where I’ll be sleeping on, say, Monday night next week. There are hassles involved with selling a home: the homeowner's association fees to be brought up to date, the property taxes to account for. There is all the emotional work of letting this house go -- the first piece of real estate I ever bought, and quite possibly the last I ever will buy. This remnant of my failed marriage. This standing metaphor for loss -- financial and otherwise. My kids will spend their last night here on Friday (I think), in the room with the clouds I painted on the ceiling. And yes, I gripe about the suburbs, but I love my office with the lofted ceilings, and I love my garden tub, and I love that there are 2 ½ bathrooms, and I love all my storage space. There's the physical work of sorting and tossing and packing and hauling and lifting and moving and driving, all while juggling twins and the remnants of my business and the three older boys. I do hate the suburbs, and it will be great to be living with Brian, and I love love love love can't put enough loves down for how much I love that we will be living in TOWN. I’m tired of these people and their little Logans and Graysons, their candle parties, their golf carts.
But just when I was on the brink of having enough money to pay my bills and actually have a little left over (oh the possibilities I was weighing! Netflix? Gym membership? Pants? Health insurance?), I have lost my major client and my income has been slashed by two thirds. Now, even with the mortgage payments being taken off my plate, I'm back to where I started, right back here. This must be the place, because I seem to be here a lot. So I’m trying to take a look around and just BE here. Forget about the gym membership, forget about the dream house we’re going to build, forget about what’s coming up next. Because this right here must be the place. This half-packed-up house, this strange and beautiful love, this life of children and hardships, this scraping the bottom of the money barrel, this October, this night sky, this shame, this joy. This. This must be the place.
Hi yo I got plenty of time
Hi yo you got light in your eyes
And you're standing here beside me
I love the passing of time
Never for money
Always for love
Cover up + say goodnight . . . say goodnight
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