The Fall of My Life

I will spare you the teenage angst and the details of my youth. I was fortunate enough to breeze through my twenties without out much trouble. Some true adventure but no trouble. Finding my twenties was a good time for me to be single, as I was not ready for anything else. Magically at thirty as if the gods had summoned him for me, I met and married a fabulous man. I could never even dream one this spectacular. We had a wonderful life together, travelling, playing, and we had our “projects”. I became a mother three months before my thirty-seventh birthday. Life was good.

At forty-two tragedy came into my life. I had never really looked it in the eye. I knew no fear. I only knew love, happiness, security, and tranquility. On August 12^th 2004, my husband was riding his motorcycle in Colorado and had an accident. He died almost instantly. He was 52, and our daughter only 5. Life became gray, tasteless, a slow motion burden of movements that were only performed because they were automatic. Everything felt weighted; every second of everyday was painful in its constant necessity to remind myself to breath. Now, she is my daughter. She saved my life by giving me a reason to live. She came into my room every morning to watch the sunrise. Every morning it was different. As the seasons slowly changed, as she described the colors, we watched the leaves turn beautiful shades of yellows reds and oranges that always come after the summer. Winter came; it must have snowed because I have pictures of a snowman. Spring followed with the budding of the leaves again. I had no choice but to continue to live. I had to return my daughters love. I don’t remember much about the first few years after he died. I do remember being afraid, afraid that if something happened to me my daughter would be alone. I don’t remember feeling joy, I don’t remember laughter, scents, cold or warmth or colors. I only remember the gaping hole I felt was in the middle of my stomach and the pressing need to continue to live. I am not sure the quality of my parenting during that time but some how we survived.

It has been almost six years since his death. My daughter is so precious. I often think that he would have been proud of her and I see some of him in her. I don’t know when it was that food started having taste again or when I quit crying, but I do know that I have probably grown as much during this time as I did in my twenties. I have continued to have little tragedies that haunt my life. Those times that life kicks you in the backside so you know you should be thankful for all the good fortune you have.

Several years ago, I realized that I was getting older (not something I put much thought into during my most recent past), so is my daughter. It won’t be long before she is not my little girl and she will be off on her own adventures. So I took a good long look at myself and took notice that my previous education was no longer useful and that I needed a life. My own life, the career I never had. I needed to be proud that I had accomplished something besides raising a wonderful strong intelligent young lady. That is how I got here. The awakening within my soul, to pursue and strategically hunt down a new more mature life that is expressly for my benefit and pleasure while continuing to raise, nurture, and support my child emotionally, spiritually, musically and physically.

From this point forward, I will talk travel. It is something I am passionate about and believe that it creates acceptance of other people, religions, and cultures. I have traveled a fair amount and plan to do more. I will create links to my favorite places and others place that I wish to go. I encourage everyone to join me in shared travel experiences. Let’s find out “How did I get Here?!”