Carry in Your Memory...

For the first time in months, I have been afforded the opportunity to have such clarity in my mind that I can indulge in dreaming, fantasizing, and envisioning triumphs. I have learned that thoughts mark the path and that every step forward is another step away from the pain of the past, an opportunity to "concentrate on the joy of having passed yet another of life's tests."(Chico Xavier) I think, now, it's most important to concentrate on the good that comes out of difficult times - a renewed confidence, an unmoving strength, and a tolerance for the little dramas that used to shake the very core.

It is blizzarding in Buffalo right now. The air is so, so cold and the wind is blowing hard across the familiar hill on which my parents' house rests - the house I grew up in with four brothers, one sister and usually a couple of dogs. It is a lot easier to weather the storm outside when the warmth of memories and the stability of family protect me. It's a lot easier to weather the storm inside too.

It is getting close to the end of yet another year. This was a year of tests and truths and discipline and tears and confusion. Yet, I am emerging from this long period of darkness. Here's the ironic part, I am grateful for it. I am grateful for it... yes, the divorce - I am grateful for it because after all this time of wanting to keep my marriage and fighting it's end, I suffered. I suffered through the illusions, the thoughts of reconciliation and like Sara Bareill sings in one of her most excellent songs, "defending good intentions if he fails." I put on my armor to defend an untruth.

In the stillness of this winter day, I was able to shed the armor and look at it clearly. I did what I always do when I have a few extra minutes without the kids in the car, I drove past my parents' house and into the hills of my small town. I rode familiar hills, looked at familiar houses and let the past kind of slip under my skin - memories of good days that have passed. Because this is life, I am sure I had very difficult moments as I grew up. I remember mourning the loss of a boyfriend as I drove those hills; I remember worrying about getting enough financial aid for law school; and I worried about the imperfections of my family on these roads. Yet, as I drove today, my thoughts were void of those worries - the past made me who I am today. I like who I am today. I like who I have become, and I anticipate the dark valleys and sharp peaks with curiosity and courage. That is something I never would have realized before this divorce. How can I not be happy? How can I not be excited about my future? How could I have allowed the loss of those moments of fantasizing and daydreaming - they were available for me this whole time!

Tony taught me a lesson about fear of the future a couple days ago. He has been (literally!) bouncing off the walls for weeks now because of the excitement of seeing his cousins in Buffalo and of course, Santa Claus coming to town. On Thursday, he was jumping around, screaming at the top of his lungs. I gave him two warnings to no avail. I finally pulled out the topper of all lines during this Christmas season. I said, "Tony, Santa Claus is watching you right now!" You know what he did? He raised his arms above his head, jumped up and down and screamed in the loudest voice, "I want lots of presents! Bring me lots of presents!"

Even in the face of sure reprimand and suffering from Santa, he knew what he wanted and made it known. He knows more about himself than I ever did.

Until now.