I smoked a d00b at our tree this morning...
16 1/2hrs earlier...5pm on Wednesday the 29th of June and I am on my way.
How quickly things change.
Plan was to quickly pickup some personal papers at was once my storage locker, then continue on my way. Things being what they are though, and, well... the family photo albums were also there! (Thank-you Public Storage!!! Even IF your prices are outrageous)
At ANY rate... what to do with the pics? I can't very well carry them with me! A friend comes to the rescue and agrees to hold on to the boxes of pics until such time plans can be made for the kids Grandmother to take them. Thanks!
A tour is in order, and I visit the family house, my home of the past 6yrs, a couple of old haunts and I wind up in Centennial Park. I know immediately what I want/need to do. After spending a few hours in 'our park' Monday afternoon, tonight, I decide to spend the night by our tree.
A d00b, couple can of Coke and a BK Chicken-Sandwich Combo (again, thanks!!!), I walk over to our tree. Been a while since I've been there. Probably the same for you as well. I've the pics from your tattoo day still on my phone, and I spend time fondly thinking of all the good times we shared together.
Sure enough I'm on this Journey of Me as a part of my growth, but, I also have to be honest with myself when I say that we need me to leave as well. This cycle will continue as long as I'm here and if its ripping you apart as much as it's killing me (and it can be plainly seen/felt), then, this too will be good for us.
I find my spot under the stars, fold myself into my sleeping bag and pass out. Other than camping, it's been a while (ok, decades) since I'd slept outside. Not since the days of Boot Camp in 1985!
OMG!
That makes me...
I know eh!
Though I didn't actually sleep much, I am alone with my thoughts. I find them comforting. I know now that I am 'doing the right thing'. There is no measure of success or failure to speak of. It's not about getting from here to there.
It's about Just Breathing...
I awoke at 9am (I know eh!), cleaned up the area (gotta be responsible right!), cleaned myself up and sat by our tree for a final word of goodbye. I sparked that d00b I spoke of earlier... and thought of us.
Was a hard time that.
With a kind word and a kiss goodbye, I am again on my way.
Not 200ft later I hear a 'do you work with the carnival?'
It is a woman in her mid 50's resting from a bike ride. Paula is sitting by some tree's enjoying a rest. We engage in random conversation that goes on for 1/2hr. Topics include her Father, having written his memoirs of his experiences in a Belgium Concentration Camp, and whether she should publish them as he passed years ago. We spoke of randomness and serendipity, of aging and dating, of happiness and meditation... of balance and just what the heck I was doing there at this time of the day!
What I took from that exchange were words that Paula was hoping to get her head around and publish that book. 'Keep going' she said...
A feeling of peace washed over me when I realized this was no chance meeting.
With her promise to publish that book, and to read my blog about our encounter, I offer a hand and a warm goodbye and again, put one foot in front of another...
I hit Timmy's (duh) for a coffee and a breakfast sandwich (yes, on a Tea Biscuit), and enjoy same with a post meal smoke.
I head down the West Mall and find myself in my old haunt. I spend time at our pine-cone bench. There is something about that area as not only does that bench hold special significance, but I was married in the old house there, Applewood. Perhaps it is an area of love for me.
Off with the shirt, and I tan for 90mins. Was simply... bliss.
I buy a freezie (a blue one)!!!
And find myself here, at the local library.
About to wander aimlessly downtown for a bit, then grab the 6:30 Greyhound out of the Bay Bus Terminal.
So ends Day 1
Read More...
With a final ride on the TTC, I arrive at the Bay/Dundas bus terminal and pick up my ticket. Run into an old-time SGT and engage in conversation. I ponder (and ask) as he's wearing a maroon coloured beret, which are not given out anymore (recall the Airborne Somalia 'affair'). Turns out he'd earned it in 1979!!! Props given.
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