Summer

Rain. Oh my god, the rain. It is lasting forever. Growing up in the Pacific Northwest, we are used to the rain. Rain clouds, drizzle, rain, rain jokes, moss, mold, rain, mildew, wet, damp, soaked, drowned, rain. If it is a rain product, we have seen it. Felt it. Lived in it.

The days now are filled with it. Endless. Oh, so gray. So dreary. So tiring. Puddles, mud, wet smelly dogs, dirty floors. Oh, it just surrounds me. And I am so exhausted by it.

We have one day of no rain and I spend the entire day outside on the back deck, in the cold, trying to fill up on sun. Enough sun to keep me going. Trying to remember what summer looks like. Is it dry? Pretty? Filled with colors other than so many shades of gray? I swear I can't remember summer. The rains, the drizzle, the downpours, they return, again and again.

I turn on lights inside the house at 2:00 in the afternoon. It is dark and dreary by 4:00. I am ready for bed before dinner. I feel my energy level slip lower and lower into the nothing regions. I eat snacks. I watch way too much television. I doze on the couch. I forget my own name.

I know summer will return. But oh how it goes by so fast, while the dreary wet winter lingers on with a super glue grip.

*Sigh*

It is all good

Well, I am officially divorced. And officially no longer a homeowner in Seattle.

It feels different and good. Scary and weird. I have my own schedule and now my own life. This is a whole new experience. The last time I was on my own, I was eighteen years old. EIGHTEEN years old! A baby really. Now I am forty-six and still a baby.

I run a list of things I need to do. Of things I want to accomplish. I am starting out small, with baby steps. Little things that wouldn't mean much to others, but mean a whole lot to me. I feel shaky inside. Some days I feel absolutely terrified.

All these feelings are good, normal, to be expected but scary nonetheless. And exhilarating. And exhausting.

February 1st is the big kick off. A new last name, still not picked out. New credit cards in my OWN name. A vacation planned just for me. Home remodeling in just my style. New hair. New tattoo. A new me? nah, just an improved version of the same old me.

One thing I have discovered in this sea of confusion and disarray, is the fact that I like me. The flaws. The strengths. The scars. The whole package. It is all good.

Now, if I just had a last name, it would be perfect.