Warning: This post is going to ramble. It will cover many seemingly unrelated topics. (Yes, I know. This will not be the first time.) I might get somewhere by the time I'm finished writing, but I might not. I will reward you with some pretty pictures at the end.
I’m back home after my road trip (and it feels good that I can call this new place home)! I had an easy drive there and back and beautiful weather the whole time. The trip started on my birthday and I started it with my free Starbucks coffee (a rare coffee Frappuccino and a brownie that I managed to save until I arrived) and I queued up my new playlist. Throughout the drive the music would stop as a birthday text or call came in and I’m grateful for whoever is responsible for Apple’s Car Play technology that allowed me to talk, listen and respond to my text messages, and still drive and keep my eyes on the road. It was a great way to start my trip. My vacation had already started the day before with my first full body massage and it was heavenly. It set the tone and mood for the whole vacation.
In addition to sightseeing, visiting the ocean, sitting by the pool, eating good food, and enjoying a few too many drinks, I also did some writing. It wasn’t as much as I would have liked, but I took my notebook everywhere with me. I sat in the hotel’s “Secret Garden” and wrote whatever came to mind. Sometimes it looked a little like poetry, and other times I added a few paragraphs to Jenny’s story, or I made up short stories about the people around me. I wrote as I looked out at the ocean, or by the Savannah River, watching the ships and tourists go by. I wrote in my gratitude journal as I drank my coffee and ate breakfast.
If I wasn’t writing I was taking pictures. I must have taken a hundred pictures of just trees. The live oaks, with the deceivingly beautiful hanging moss (I heard the moss is full of chiggers!), were everywhere, and they were beautiful. They of course reminded me of the Angel Oak Tree I visited near Charleston several years back. There were some old ones like it in Savannah, but not as old and spectacular as the Angel Oak.
As relaxing and peaceful as my vacation was, I managed to hit a low point in my recovery. By recovery I mean my adjustment to my divorce and my new perspective about it. Even though I’ve gone through the cord cutting process twice already, I might need to do it one more time (third time’s the charm?). I know I can attribute this low point to the fact that I was drinking alone and probably had one too many (meaning I had three when I should have stopped at two). They were spaced apart and I wasn’t drunk at all, but they led me down a road I shouldn’t have been on. After I went upstairs to my room and got ready for bed I started thinking not about all the people who had wished me a happy birthday in one way or another, but those that hadn’t. And it hurt. It shouldn’t have, I know. I should have been happy about those that did take the time to wish me a good day, and I was, still am, but I couldn’t stop myself from feeling really sad about not getting even a simple “happy birthday” text or email from my ex. (I even heard from my first husband and his family.) Maybe he thought I wouldn’t want to hear from him. I recorded a very long, rambling voice message, saying how disappointed I was, and then telling him he had denied me the opportunity to be mad at him in person, and sent it to him via text. Sigh. Yes, I know. How cringe-worthy was that? Ugh. I listened back to it the next morning when I remembered, and I did cringe. I considered sending a message asking him to please disregard it and not listen to it if he hadn’t already. But I knew it was best to just leave it there. I can’t promise I will never do that again, but I’m trying, people.
It’s not like I haven’t moved on. I’ve made a home for myself here and am enjoying my life. I’m dating and I’ve met some wonderful people along the way. My life is in no way over, even though last summer I certainly thought it was. I’m not sitting here pining away for what was, or what I thought could have been for the rest of my life. Do I feel melancholy occasionally? Yes, I do. Does it pass? Always.
This week I’m going to review what I wrote and see if there’s enough to turn into something post-worthy. It’s back to work and I’m trying to decide if one of the dreams I had this week about work is trying to tell me anything. This week I’m back to doing more yoga, more Zumba, more walking. I’m healthy, vaccinated, my kids are close, and I have people I enjoy talking to and spending time with. What more could a person ask for?
And now here are the pictures I promised, including one taken for this last week’s bloom. Sorry about all the selfies. I know how it looks but when you’re on vacation by yourself you need a way to document that you were there, and you were happy to be there.
