Every New Year’s Day, I take down my wall calendar and transfer its dates of importance to a new one. I may not actually send a card or acknowledge all of those dates, but keeping a record of them is something I have deemed worthy of doing for at least the past thirty-something years. I have kept track of my parent’s birthdays and days of passing, my children’s birthdays and those of so many others. Wedding anniversaries, work anniversaries and health related ones too, but some dates are so monumental, they never need be written down.
Four years ago, I knew my relationship with John the Pilot was not going well, but I had no idea how bad things were. I knew nothing of the depths of his lies and betrayals. All I knew, was that some woman was trying to contact me, to enlighten me and set me free. How is it that almost four years have passed and I didn’t die or end up mentally destitute? Somehow, I have managed to survive one of the most monumental moments of my life, one that never needs to be written on a calendar to remind me of its existence. How can that be, when I was so certain it would destroy me.
The passing years have seen so many worthy dates. Firstly, I was born. More accurately, I was born on my brother’s birthday which set the wheels in motion for an interesting relationship, indeed. I graduated high school and I have a reunion coming up, one that gives me pause. How is it possible that so many years have passed since I walked the hallways of JSM? The first life altering anniversary was that of my mother’s passing. Her death, truly set me on a different course than I had intended. I always wonder, what if she hadn’t died when she did, would I have stayed in art school and had a career in film? Would I have married the man that I did and have children? I’ll never know the answers to those questions, but I still wonder, what if.
The births of my children forever changed my life. I would never know again, what it would be like to be completely selfish because I would now forever put their well-being, before my own. Birthday parties, school functions, boy scout camping trips and graduations became my priorities. The gut-wrenching pain of watching my eldest leave to join the military is a date I don’t want or need to keep on a calendar. The joy of knowing my youngest graduated college after a long arduous journey should remain permanently inked upon my mind, no need to write it down. Still, I mentally keep track of these moments because they represent turning points in my life.
I have today off from work and I have given myself permission to not complete a list of chores. Instead, I got my butt down to the basement and onto my rickety old exercise bike in preparation of my stress test later this week. I did twenty minutes while pondering what to do with the rest of my day, not bad. After I dismounted the contraption, I saw the boxes of photos I keep meaning to put into albums glare at me. If only I had been more diligent throughout the years, this project would not be looming over me. I decided to delve in and at least take a peek at what work lies before me. I’m up to 1998, another year filled with birthday parties and boy scout events, karate lessons and trips to the zoo. Visits from a family friend that was so entwined in our lives at that time, who longer is, that gave me pause. Children grow and become independent, but why do those we deem dear, soon part ways?
I suppose one could say that we are all growing, like children and eventually become more independent, not requiring those relationships any longer. They say that when the student is ready, the teacher will appear, so I guess when the life lesson is learned, it’s time for them to part.
John the Pilot came into my life when I desperately wanted someone to play with, by my rules. My tragic mistake was trying to turn him into someone he was not meant to be. He was never meant to be a life long partner, so shame on me for trying to do that to him. We had our fun, lots and lots of fun, but I knew in my heart, he was not mine to keep. Yes, the other woman enlightened me four years ago, but I think that there is a much more important anniversary I need to celebrate.
Three years ago, after a year of my therapist urging me to blog, I finally found the strength to press the button and purchase the domain of storiesbygroovygail.com. I’ll never forget that “A-ha!” moment when I wrote to that family friend from 1998, that after the persistent urging of my therapist, I had started a blog. “I told him that my therapist had asked me, “Wouldn’t it be worth it, even if you helped just one person?” Then it finally dawned on me, after all the times my therapist had said this to me, maybe that one person is me.”
Here’s to one of those anniversaries I feel no need to write on a calendar, because it was such a monumental moment in my life. Me starting this blog is a big part of the reason I didn’t die or become mentally destitute. This is a space where I allow myself to think things through, write them down and set them free. I’m never certain if what I am writing makes sense to others, but I figure that’s okay. It’s not like I’m writing in order to pay the rent, I’m writing in order to get things out of my head, hopefully. Sometimes, the thoughts die as soon as they hit the page. Other times, it gives them breeding ground to grow. It’s a crap shoot really, but I do know that I enjoy the process, so therefore, I shall keep writing.
Happy Anniversary to me finding a place to be me!
#thelieswechoosetolivewith
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