Marble 4

So here is my marble for this week...

This is a little suitcase that I have on my dresser. Until yesterday, it was filled with keepsakes from my time with him.  Gifts he gave me, ticket stubs, plastic flowers, sea shells, brochures from places we went together...

This last week, I have been busy. I went to New York all by myself. I went sightseeing, did some business, ran a 5k, saw a show, and made new friends. I did it myself. When I got home, I was busy with 3 different rehearsals, looking for a job, and catching up on housework. On Thursday I decided to drive 2 hours to the next state to a dinner theatre where a friend works and see CATS. I went alone. I figured out how to get there by myself. I drove alone. I ate a delicious meal. I talked to folks and made some friends. I stayed after and talked to the cast and visited and joked for quite a while... Then I drove home alone. The week before that, I took the kids camping all on my own...

Just because I am alone, that doesn't mean that I can't still do stuff. In fact, I can do more, if I want to, because it's easier to plan with only one person, and there were a lot of things that he didn't want to do. Like going to New York...  I had a great time. I was busy. I wasn't despondent. I wasn't sad. I could definitely see a day where I would do all of these things, and not be thinking about the fact that he wasn't there. I realized that I was looking forward to making my own memories. I don't need someone else to help me fill up a box with keepsakes. I have already made great memories for myself. By myself.

So I emptied out the box of keepsakes. I put everything from him into a box and put it under my bed...

But now the little suitcase on my dresser is for MY memories. For this next 11 months of adventures and learning. This is a picture of my marble along with just a few of the keepsakes that I have already accumulated in my first month.

This is going to be OK.

Marble 3

Saint Patricks cathedral... 

 For the first time, I was visiting it alone. I could spend  much time as I wanted and look and read every sign and placard. There had just been a fantastic wedding- incredibly fancy. People were walking around in formal gowns everywhere. 

I went to every alcove for every saint, and again, as I seem to every year, I wound in front of Saint Joseph. Maybe because he was a father. The first year I lit a candle for his father, I looked for the patron saint of fathers and couldn't find one, so I went to Christ's father. Saint Patrick's church has statues of such obscure saints… If there is a patron saint of fathers, it isn't there… St. Joseph always seem the most appropriate one to choose. 

This year, I lit three candles, one for my grandparents, one for my brother, and one for his father…. After waiting forever for the security guard to walk away, I placed my marble at the feet of the tiny angel that guarded the candles. I quickly took a picture. Then I knelt in front of the statue, and prayed. Most years I am too distracted to pray properly. I know the kids are getting bored and there are tourists everywhere. But this year I just cleared my head took a long as I needed. 

At first, I prayed for God to bring him back to me… Then, as I thought the words, I realized that it wasn't going to happen. And that for praying for it was only setting myself up for pain and disappointment. So, as I usually try to do, I prayed for God's will… I don't know what His will is, but I know that whatever it is, it will be best in the end. I prayed for God to heal him. To heal his heart and give him love and peace and happiness. I prayed for God to open his heart and let him feel all the things that he blocks out and refuses to feel.  And if there was some way, if somehow, someday, he could feel what I feel,  that maybe he could bring us back together.  

I truly and earnestly prayed. And when I was done, I was crying. Kneeling there, in St. Patricks cathedral, in the middle of New York, surrounded by strangers… I got up to leave, but as I walked through the sanctuary, and saw the people sitting, waiting for the 5:30 mass to start, I suddenly felt compelled to stay. I sat in a pew and lowered the kneeling bar, and prayed again until the service started. 

Marble 2

This weekend I went camping with the girls. Just us. To the same place he took me. It was lovely, but sad. I took last week's marble with me. I thought maybe I would throw it in the river... Instead, I placed the marble in the crook of a tree that had been near our tent when we were there together. A very distinct tree that I was calling "our tree" in my head... I put the marble there, took a picture of it, and left it there. 

I decided to leave my marbles places that have had some impact on my week. Or perhaps, if I am lucky, someplace I have had an impact on. 

 I will post each weeks picture... 

Marbles

I saw this story on the internet once... 

My friend Dwight Bain sent me a story of a ham radio operator who overheard an older gentleman giving advice to a younger man. 

“It’s a shame you have to be away from home and family so much,” he said. “Let me tell you something that has helped me keep a good perspective on my own priorities. You see, one day I sat down and did a little arithmetic. The average person lives about 75 years. Now then, I multiplied 75 times 52 and came up with 3,900, which is the number of Saturdays that the average person has in his lifetime. 

“It took me until I was 55 years old to think about this in any detail,” he continued, “and by that time I had lived through over 2,800 Saturdays. I got to thinking that if I lived to be 75, I only had about a thousand of them left to enjoy.” 

He went on to explain that he bought 1,000 marbles and put them in a clear plastic container in his favorite work area at home. “Every Saturday since then,” he said, “I have taken one marble out and thrown it away. I found that by watching the marbles diminish, I focused more on the really important things in life. There’s nothing like watching your time here on this earth run out to help get your priorities straight.” 

Then the older gentleman finished, “Now let me tell you one last thought before I sign off and take my lovely wife out to breakfast. This morning, I took the very last marble out of the container. I figure if I make it until next Saturday, then I have been given a little extra time. 

We can’t choose whether we will get any more time, but we can choose what we do with it.

I always loved that story, and I thought it was a great idea. One of the many times that we separated to try to let him figure out what he wanted in his life, I did the math, and figured out how many Saturdays he had left until he turned 75... I bought that many marbles and put them into a big bucket- the only thing I could find big enough to hold them. I left them on his doorstep, with this story. I hoped that he would think about how much time he was wasting, trying to over think everything, and trying to wait until everything was perfect, instead of just embracing life and love here in the moment and being willing to work for it...

I also made myself a bucket of marbles. I am 5 years older than he is, and I had surprisingly fewer marbles than he did. Mine fit in a large, glass fish bowl. I keep them on my bookshelf, and every Saturday I take one out.

For a while, I was saving them. Numbering them, thinking that someday I could look back at each marble and say, "Here's what was happening in our lives when I took this one out..." But after a while, that seemed dumb, and I stopped doing it. I started just throwing them away, like the man in the story. I thought that was more symbolic. The time is gone. I can't get it back... Then, when he asked me to give him another chance, and we got back together, I started placing the marbles out in the garden, by the flower that Dr. D gave me. 

But, like he always said, I have to learn to let go of the past. I can't keep holding on to the marbles of weeks past and keep looking at them and wishing about them. I have to accept that the time is gone and it isn't coming back, and move on...