empty-nesting

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Our nest was empty today.

And it felt sort of like when Rudy lived in Arkansas.

And I lived here, in California.

So many days came and went.

Both of us experiencing life without the other.

Mostly, only words said how we felt, or what we were thinking.

Gestures and body language played an intermitent role in our relationship.

Those are days that will forever be distant.

Days that cannot be redone.

Days that are, thank goodness, over.

But.

Today.

I am reminded of those distant days.

Because.

Here I am. Here we are.

In the house. Together.

Without kids.

No one is mumbling on the phone with friends.

No one is singing along to the lyrics booming from a computer.

No one is chatting. Talking about a day in the life of.….

And it hits me.

Both softly and a bit aggressively.

That life will be sort-of-like-yet-not-exactly-like-but-in-a-way-it-will-be-sliced-up-similar-to when Rudy lived there and I lived here.

walking in the storm

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i walk for pleasure. mostly. but, i also walk to ebb any tension that’s built up within my being. tension, every day, or not every day, tension. that can take me down. if i let it.

with my shock absorbing athletic shoes on, my pockets on the rear sweats and an oversized t-shirt dangling over my frame, i head out the front door. leaving rudy behind in the kitchen cooking. fleetwood mac entertains me, energizes me, soothes me as i stroll up the wide cement steps which lead to the paved street, heading toward the hills.

my thoughts meander, take over.

sometimes, lots of times, obstacles pop up, challenging us. rudy and me.

he’s here. home with me. in california. holding my hand. feeling happy.

yet, rudy is disappointed. in himself. dissatisfied that he has yet to find a job. employment to replace the position he left behind in arkansas. i remind him that life is a process. a continuous process that should be enjoyed. he nods his head in agreement, but deep down he’s not buying it.

our conversations on the subject begin like cool weather: comfortable, breezy, with a bit of a chill. then, expectedly or not, it turns heated. overbearing. uncomfortable.

as i’m walking in the hills. walking up steep inclines. jogging down descending, winding narrow roads. i talk to myself. talk myself through my day. my life. our life. i work out my frustrations. make sense of my destiny. rudy’s destiny. our destiny. i consider my take on the world. where i fit in. where we fit in.

everything will be fine. i tell myself. because i know its true. my optimism tells me so. everything will be fine.

i walk into the house. five miles later. one and a half hours after i began my journey of reflection. rudy smiles at me. his glasses balancing on the tip of his nose. i smile. wipe the sweat off my brow. and tell him i love him. i love you too, he tells me. he’s my person. and i’m his. individually, each in our own way, and together we will weather our storm. and enjoy a world of sunshine.