Five years ago I looked out across Casco Bay to the mainland we left behind. We were alone on an island in the middle of the Atlantic. My little one was only 5 years old. I was broken from the end of my marriage and it’s aftermath that was as rocky as the shores we walked upon each day. The shell shock had started to wear off but barely. Recently I found a photo from that trip and if it looked as if we were holding on to each other for dear life – it’s because we were. That week we watched sunsets, enjoyed the company of loving and supportive friends and started to make our way in the world again. It had been a long and lonely winter.
Five years forward, I find myself looking out across Casco Bay again – this time on a different island, some friends the same with new ones picked up along the way and the shores are even rockier. But this time out I can navigate them. Bravely climb on them and welcoming whatever the rising tide brings to us. I’m 40 now (for one more day) and my beautiful girl is 9. We have both grown tremendously both in body, heart and soul.
So it’s fitting that we return here in the safety of treasured friends, to the beauty of a place that accepts me and lets me be anyway I need to be.
Turning 40 was more than a major milestone in my life this last year – I have used the year as a talisman of what direction my life would turn towards to navigate the rest of my days. It has been a lovely year. A year of destinations, music, continuing support of family and friends – both new and old and the constant connection and reconnection and the gifts they all continue to bestow on me. I am so blessed in my life. It’s also been a year of trying new things – I learned how to knit (!!), meeting goals and exceeding the hard expectations I have set for myself. And finally, not being so hard on myself as a parent going alone. I can do it – it has been done by so many before me and as long as we communicate and back each other up – we can do anything.
Most importantly, I have learned that it’s okay to let go and love again. The hardest lesson about love this time around is opening yourself up to even allowing someone to love you back and not second guessing and chasing away all those old ghosts that want to hang around.
Last night I sat on the porch alone and I listened to the waves hitting the rocks, felt the breeze giving me a chill, watched the beacon cycle from a distant lighthouse and had the entire evening sky ablaze with stars shining directly over my head. I didn’t feel alone – I felt redeemed – I feel like my life has come full circle.
