The lady at the bank asked me, "Are you signing this of your own free will?" and I said yes. She hesitated with her seal in hand when she looked up and saw my eyes were gleaming wet. It is so final that with the way things are, I can’t go back at all. It’s gone to me except in memory and that will have to do.
So on the way home I stopped and bought a bar of Hershey’s All Natural Extra Pure Dark Chocolate with Macadamia Nuts and Cranberries and I felt better as the soothing smooth near-blackness melted down my throat. To coat my heart, I hope, as well.
And off I am up to New Hampshire staying for a night at my dear friend Nancy’s (and her husband, Jules’) new (one year already!) house in Amherst then up to their lakehouse in Rumney. Maybe just for the weekend, maybe for a year or two. It could be, if I pretend, my writing cabin in the woods.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology
fleeing to my hills to write this weekend, higher now and deeper; black forest intead of airy wood. I will think of you.
Although it may not be any consolation, I’ve found that those places and those things I’ve had the deepest connections with and then had to leave, or that left me, stay in my heart always. The memories become less accurate, less sharp, but somehow kinder in time. Enjoy the time away.
Ruth, from what I’ve seen of “Lilith” I think them hills are ready for you–good luck.
Lisa, sometimes we just gotta do because there is no feasible choice. I need this time away from things; away from reality.
Susan – I hope your time away will bring you peace of mind, beautiful sunrises and sunsets, lots of fresh air and of course, many beautiful birds.
Susan, it’s all inside you. Every nook and cranny. And those memories are free of sorrow and remorse. I celebrate the beginning of a new relationship with your past.
It’s been a settling of the mind and soul with each breathing in of mountain air.