A Beginning and an Ending

As he drove away she sat down hard on her back step and tried to catch her breath. She could feel the heat radiating off of her face and her body was speaking a language that was unfamiliar to her. He had kissed her good night. It had only been a simple kiss. One simple kiss. Yet that kiss had shaken her to her marrow. She thought she had understood desire and passion but she had been wrong. In the space of a hundred heartbeats so much had became clear. She thought she finally understood what all of those songs on the radio were about. Why the great operas and sonnets, the great works of literature and art had been created. In the space of a hundred heartbeats her life had been turned upside down. In her mind, she could hear her God, her own personal God, laughing with joy and love. Her God, a God of infinite love and wonder, had just bestowed a miracle. If one of the definitions of Miracle was an awakening then what had just happened was nothing short of miraculous. And was she ever awake. More awake then she had ever been in her long, well lived life. The kiss would cause her to question fundamental truths about herself and her past. It would lead to a year of exploration and rebirth. To a Renaissance Year.

It is time to put this blog to bed. It has served its purpose. For two years I have chronicled my journey though the blackness of the early years of divorce to my finally coming back into the light. The stories I have shared of raising my children while on this journey has helped me stay connected to the joy and humor that make life rich and soulful. It has served its purpose well but it is now time to move on. For almost 6 months I have been kicking around the idea of writing a book. I think I may have a book in me and it is itching to be born. I have a story to tell and it is time to tell it.

To all of you who have been with me on this journey, who have laughed with me, who have offered your words of wisdom and support, I thank you. You know where to find me if you want to connect. Know that I am still laughing and loving and living with gusto. Be Well, my friends.

Today is the anniversary of a kiss. An ending and a beginning.

Onetallmomma signing off.

A Middle Aged Groupie

I am in love. Her name is Grace and she is 24 years old. I am giving it all up; the mothering gig, the jobs, my flover, my current life and I am going to follow her band. I am going to become a groupie. A middle aged groupie. O.K....maybe not the flover. I am going to try to convince him to come with me.

Grace? You don't know Grace??? Here...read this and then come back.

I first discovered Grace as I lay in my flovers arms after. You all know what I'm talking about. Anyway, as the ability to think and hear slowly returned I asked him who was singing to us? What disc was playing? It was a CD he had gotten from work by a Vermont band who had just released there first CD with a major label. I was hooked. Line and sinker.

That was back in August. Since then I have acquired the bands first two CD's. My teenage daughters are also fans and my 10 year old son can sing all of the lyrics to several of her tunes.

Saturday night my flover and traveled to Portsmouth and saw Grace and the Nocturnals LIVE at The Music Hall. Not to gush, but it was the best concert I have ever been to in my life. What does it say about a band when their live performance make their recorded music seriously pale in comparison? When the concert was over my flover and I just looked at each other and said the same word over and over again. WOW!

Check out this You Tube of her preforming at the Boston Music Awards last year. She sings the first part of the song acappella but hang in there, the second part of the song rocks. Yes, that is a B-3 Hammond organ she is playing. She also plays a flying V. So cool.

I'll try to remember to post from the road.

What do groupies wear, anyway?

Food, Frost and Fear

There are so many good stories to tell about my adventures in Quebec with my flover. Where to begin? Well, to start with, it was cold. Very, very cold. Friday, our first day there, was the nicest of our stay with a balmy high of 15 degrees and no wind. After we arrived at our Chateau we walked across the street for some poutine at Chez Ashton. Poutine, is a favorite local fare. It consists of french fries drenched in gravy topped with cheese curds. It was surprisingly good once you got over the way the cheese curds squeak between your teeth.

We were bundled up for the weather. Long underwear, hats, mittens and scarf (mine) and we would still get cold if we stopped moving long enough. The only solution was to walk and Quebec is nothing if not a walking kind of town. One of the adventures of that first day was a ride down a big ass hill in an inflated rubber boat. I doubt either of us would have risked the ride if we had not egged each other on with "who me....I'm not old". As we waited in line I bushwhacked my way further up the hill to check out an historical maker. I'm a sucker for historical markers. Turned out that the hill we were standing on was the site of a famous Indian massacre. One tribe of Indians making a bonfire of another tribe of Indians. Lovely.

Finally it was our turn to climb into our snow boat. The only seat left was the one in front. Holy shit.....what was I thinking? He clutched my hand and I clutched his arm. Can I get off? Once we started moving I was able to see that we were headed for a series of large bumps in the course. I had not noticed them before because my lack of dept perception had flattened out the terrain. Not so once we got moving. As we picked up speed I started to vocalized my emotions and by the time we hit that first jump I was in full scream. That is when I shut my eyes. Tightly. And started laughing like a mad woman. Screaming and laughing and holding on to dear flover for all I was worth.

We made it to the bottom and I was helped from the snow boat on shaking legs. The tears were freezing to my cheeks and I could not stop giggling.

Little did I know that the next day I would voluntarily climb onto a toboggan. That time I kept my eyes open. But I will save that story for tomorrow.

Where Are We?

Late Monday evening my flover and I returned from our trip to Quebec. We had a marvelous time. Wonderful. Enchanting. Relaxing. Thrilling. The perfect vacation. For four whole days I got to be just me. Not a mom, daughter, friend, breastfeeding expert or chauffeur. Just me. Friend and lover.

Several days before we left on the trip I asked him if he traveled well. This was an important question. Our relationship consists of several hours per night several times per week. I can count on one hand the number of times we have spent more the 6 hours together in the last year. My question was multifaceted. What I was really asking was:

• Do you get stressed when you happen to get lost?
• Are you open to adventure?
• Do you get cranky and peevish if plans change?
• Will I want to rip your face off if I spend 4 days with you?

He answered with a shrug and a grin, "I don't know. I haven't traveled in years and years." Not helpful.

Turns out the man is a divorced, middle aged woman's dream companion. I kid you not.

One of my concerns was the whole "How do we get there? Who's going to be the naviguesser? Do you know where we are? Should we stop and ask for directions at that gas station?" thing. Getting lost can lead to stress and tension. Anxiety and anger. Shouting and yelling. I know this from past experience. My ex did not travel well. And as a result, neither did I. When you are snarling at each other before you have even reached the romantic get-a-away hotel it does not bode well.

I should also add that I have a talent for getting lost. Point me in the right direction, draw me an explicit map, add GPS and I will still not be able to find the destination. O.K.....I am exaggerating a bit but you get the idea.

Turns out that my guy has a wonderful sense of direction. He took charge of all the various maps and even though we got lost several times, one time driving the same highway interchange not once but twice, we always got to where we were going. The twisted, winding streets of Old Quebec soon had me completely disoriented but not my flover. He always knew where we were and was able to lead me back to our bed at the end of the day. It is as if he has GPS in his head.

There are many, many more stories I want to share but they can wait for another day. I am going to try to take a shower.

If I can find the bathroom.

(He is actually much taller but had to crouch to fit in the ice box with me.)

Road Trip

A long, long time ago...back in the late summer....my flover and I discussed going on a road trip. It started as a joke. A "wouldn't it be fun to go there and just play?" kinda joke.

In November we brought the subject up again. That was in the days of only seeing each other once a week for a few precious hours. The idea sounded so sublime that we made reservations at a local hotel in a moment of sheer lunacy. At that time I didn't give the dream a snowballs chance of becoming a reality. He would have to arrange with his ex to take his kids for the weekend. He would have to ask for time off from work. My ex would have to agree to take time off from his work. We would both need to find the money. It seemed as if there were far to many hurtles.

But some dreams do come true. Tomorrow morning, bright and early, we leave for this wonderful place. For 4 whole, glorious days.

I am soooooo excited.

A Fresh Look

After almost two years of my grey-blue background and moon images, I was ready for a new look. After all, I am a different woman then I was in April of 2006 when I first got up the nerve to click on the Create Blog button. So, thank you Denise for skipping town and taking my old template with you. It was a blessing in disguise. Thank you to Heather at Goofy Girl Designs for my new look. She tried to find me a daisy drinking wine for the Header but on further reflection it's a good thing she failed.

I am pleased as punch with my new look and colors. Just as the old template felt right at the time, this one feels equally right.

Now, I just have to resume writing on a regular basis.

Lighter Today

Good News. Linc spoke yesterday. He recognized his teacher and greeted him by name and then answered the question "How are you?" by saying replying "I am good." When I saw him on Monday evening he had yet to communicate. This is huge and my heart is lighter and filled with renewed hope. Phin had his first stable 24 hours since the accident which is also great news. If they can keep him stable then they can try taking off of the heaviest sedative and see what happens. No news on Henry other then he continues in the ICU. Small steps. This is going to be a journey of very small steps.

Tonight is Flover Night. For the fist time in 10 days I actually feel like I might want to get him naked. Warm, naked man....Yup, that is just what the Doctor ordered.