I'm sitting here on my next to last Friday night in San Diego watching P.S. I Love You (my go-to-I'm-in-a-somber-mood movie). Reflecting has taken over most of my thoughts these days and I find myself wading through excitement and sadness simultaneously.
I find myself going out of my way to drive by places that hold special memories for me. Good or bad, happy or sad ones; I still seem to be compelled to presumably, say good bye to these memories. My own version of closure, I suppose. Last week I went to the Starbucks that can lay claim to the very first date of my ex husband and I, and I'm pretty sure that I will also drive by the place that we got married as well. As I sat there in Starbucks- or experienced these other places that have held some part of my life experiences- these memories flood over me and play like a movie in my mind. The patrons that sit around me have no idea that this girl that sits quietly by herself, drinking her hot chocolate, is releasing and letting go of it all. All of the first relationship in her life that has meant anything to her. Now, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that it's over, and it's not as if I want him or us back...but I would do myself a terrible injustice if I didn't give this part of my reality its proper respect. I am forever changed because of what I have experienced in this town.
If there were one part of this move that I don't feel I am ready to be done with, it's my Hospice work. Months ago, long before this decision to turn my life upside down, I made a decision to volunteer for Hospice. My thoughts being that if I could help one patient or family the way Hospice helped mine when my grandfather- the most amazing man I have ever known to date- was at the end of his life, I would be honored. So, 16 hours of training and weeks later I received my first patient. For the sake of his privacy, I'll call him John. John has made it to 94 years old and I look forward to every day that I spend with him. I was assigned to John by his social worker because he needs socialization from the routine of his retirement home...and apparently he has always loved a pretty girl (so she tells me). He gets tired easily, but at every visit I roll him out to the patio in his wheel chair and I sit with him as he relays stories of his 24 years in the Army, his early childhood in New York and Connecticut, his first marriage and daughter, his second marriage to his soul mate, and his indomitable love of dancing the Fox Trot, Tango, and Viennese Waltz. He is an amazing man that has lived more life than my little mind full of my own life experiences can comprehend. His movies play over and over in his mind as well. When he gets that look in his eye and his words drift off to a far away place, I know they take him back to his happiest moments that offer him comfort. I understand him.
In talking with John one afternoon he asks me if I am married. To keep things simple for his comprehension I simply answer "no". After he tells me "If I had another daughter I would want her to be just like you" he then tells me...."Who ever gets you will get the Christmas Pie." That small statement will be carried with me and close to my heart for the rest of my days.
10 more days to go....
Good night, for now.
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