I'm on my 2nd can of Diet Dr. Pepper today.
And in front of me,
sits a Morningstar Veggie Burger.
What can I say?
Even slathered with thousand island dressing and cheese...
it sure ain't In-n-Out.
A piece of cheese just went into the keyboard...
Why am I typing this?
I don't know...
maybe because I really have nothing else to write.
Maybe after a long, beautiful weekend with my husband...
it is now a lonely, cold and cloudy Monday.
And while everyone is back to work,
I want to be,
but here I sit.
I know most would love to be able to stay home.
But not me.
Being home leaves me with too much time to think.
And on days like today...
I swear I could close my eyes,
I swear I could close my eyes,
jump on a plane
and land back in LAX like all of this has been a bad dream.
Yesterday was a beautiful Easter day.
And I found myself sitting in a place I haven't given much thought too.
It was kind of time-warpish.
Is that a word?
When Tim & I were making plans to get married.
No one would marry us in Western MI without counseling first.
They didn't care that he was in the Marines,
in another state,
possibly going to war.
We almost didn't get married...
Then I remembered the little white church my family went to
when I was young.
This place is straight out of a Norman Rockwell book.
Classic white church.
On the corner.
Same fixtures and stained glass for decades.
That was where we ended up getting married,
on a frigid cold day in December.
I haven't give much thought to it since.
When my family decided to go there for Easter services.
And as I walked in,
I felt the rest of the world fade away.
Nothing had changed.
Nothing except for us it seemed.
The sanctuary was brightened by the warm yellow
of the sun through the stained glass...
and sitting there were the same people
that went there when I was just a little kid.
Still going there, every Sunday, just as they had for years...
it was peacefully familiar.
And then my mind started to wander,
to how we were here just 7 years ago.
When we last stood in here we had no idea of what was to come.
If someone would have told me
I would be back living here,
just a few miles away.
I would never have believed it.
Much less any of the other things that have also happened since.
And as strange as it seems,
this no longer feels like home.
At least not the way I had thought it would.
In CA, I was known as the teacher from MI...
You guessed it.
The teacher from CA.
Belonging no where.
Yet from everywhere...
And as I looked at all the other people sitting there,
I know that won't be me.
The rest of the world is way too interesting.
And as I look at our Easter picture,
taken on the front steps of a house we bought...
to grow old in,
to raise our family in,
to stay put in,
something is missing...
well, besides our stupid dog who was too preoccupied with a toy to listen...
none of it holds the possibilities it once did for me.
I would now welcome a change.
And once again I am reminded to never say never...
about all sorts of things.
I need to find my own way.
Somewhere with no memories
of friends that never came home...
of sitting alone in a hospital room...
of where Will was supposed to be with us.
I'm just looking for some place...
some place I can sit and be content,
and not be reminded about
what could have been.