There are years that ask the questions, and years that answer.
I keep this quote on a tiny piece of paper in my wallet. It's somewhere in between my Eiffel Tower receipt and The Brother's college graduation picture. Somewhere between a bus ticket from Australia and my library card from the Library of Congress.
Somewhere between the years that asked ... and the years that have answered.
Before we left for the wedding last weekend, I sat with my dad in his kitchen. There's a little bench next to the stove, and he wiped down counters and did the dishes. Music played in the background, and years ago, in a different house the same thing was happening. I sat there and we talked and all I could do was cling to the hope that there will always be moments where he and I both get to sit and talk.
When I told my parents that I had decided to get divorced, each of them stayed rooted in my corner. Neither was disappointed in me, though they were perhaps disappointed for the life I could have had. I don't think I was the only one that mourned the maybe.
Dad and I sat in the kitchen on Saturday and we laughed, and we talked about the last few years of my life. "Sometimes, it's best just to move on," I said, my shoulders shrugging much like his do. "Sometimes," he said, nodding. He talked about not being able to change people - not being able to control people. And dang if that's not the truth.
Years that ask. Years that answer. An ebb and flow.
In many ways, I felt like I lived 2017 in a complete question. I was still stepping through single parenting, living by myself, shoveling my own dang snow thankyouverymuch, and learning to cook for 1.5.
Also though? I feel like EVERYONE lived 2017 in a perpetual questioning state. Never in my life has the Hurston quote pressed so heavily on my chest.
If we ask, and ask, and ask.
If we pray, and pray, and pray.
If we search, and search, and search.
Eventually, the tide will turn.
Eventually, an answer will rise up from our bellies and take root in our hearts.
The hardest part of the whole asking and answering, though, is the acting on the answer. Once you find your way ...
You need to walk that way.
Sometimes, it's a slow walk.
Sometimes, it's feet shuffling ... in the right direction.
Sometimes, it's a loud door slamming and a run.
The courage to act on the answering?
That's when you know you're living in the light.
. About Moi .
I love, love, love flannel sheets and I am really passionate about lists on post it notes and most of the time I'm sad that no one else is as excited as I am about Diet Mountain Dew. I also adore run-on sentences.
He saw her before he saw
anything else in the room.
- F. Scott Fitzgerald
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