Sorting out things
It's Saturday afternoon and I'm cleaning. Not the routine Saturday afternoon cleaning, but a cleaning where you look at everything anew. Old files I haven't used at work for awhile-toss. Stickers the grandkids might like-pile with things for their house. And I'm cleaning my soul. Cards and letters from him-toss. Wrinkled shirt-pile with the ironing.
Reflections
He isn't home this week; he went “up north.” Jumbled thoughts move forward and then fade throughout the day:
- Did she meet him there?
- Where will I live?
- How will I live?
- What about insurance?
- Will I ever get over this?
- Did he really end their relationship?
- So when does the next one start?
- Is it my age?
I push back my thoughts and sort more papers, waiting for the questions to fade. Hoping that putting my house in order will somehow put my life in order, but doubting it will.
Part of me ponders advice from friends. “A leopard doesn't change his spots.” “This is only one aspect of your life so be careful before you act.” “How can you even think of staying?” “How can you even think of leaving?”
Lots of women before me have faced this. Answers are hard to find. You have to dig deep into your soul for them. I'm not there yet, so I'll keep cleaning.
