I started this blog as a way to find myself prior to when I was a “Mrs.” – yet the path that I thought would lead me to my independent self, led me to my “satisfied” self; my loved and accepted self. These past four years, I’ve discovered my mistakes, my baggage and have embarked on the journey of “single” life. During this time I nursed my sister through cancer and, eventually came to grieve her death. Lived through a fire, after losing almost all that I treasured and held dear; only to find new friends and ‘things’ to hold in their place.
Since my move to “Small Town America”, I’ve discovered a new love for the simpler things in life and I’ve rediscovered my love for that one man who I fell in love with back in 1986 – Doug… Yes, we are back together again and will be remarrying sometime in 2015. It took sometime for us both to realize our own baggage and contributions to the demise of our marriage, but we are ready to move forward. Doug will be moving in with me to “Small Town America” as he enjoys retirement. I will work and hopefully publish my book. I figure that it is time for him to live the “retired life” for a change.
I just find it funny how these things work out. All this time, I thought I would be oh so much happier – living independently, or with someone else; when all those other men I was seeing were being compared (in my mind’s eye) to Doug… Nobody would ever love me enough or care for me enough. Truly loving me for me, in spite of my faults (and I have plenty of them, believe me… I talk to myself; you know that?). All of the men I dated would try to change me, or would be threatened by me, or would simply use me and dismiss me (remember “Honey?”)… Anyway, after a few months of going round and round and his persuasive “wooing”, I came to realize that I’ve always loved him (something I’ve never denied, actually) and that we should be together, for better or worse, in sickness and in health.
There is something to be said about “true love” – you know the kind? Where you just fit together… right in that ‘crook’ in the neck while lying in bed, or finishing each other’s sentences… knowing what the other will want for dinner (as if instinctively). And still being able to look at them, through all their faults, with love in your eyes. When I returned into his life and into his home, I noticed that all the little things I loved, he kept. All my little collections, the sheets I bought, the salt and pepper shaker collection, my hearts – everything. As if to say, “if I keep it, she will return.” I was endeared by the fact that he kept these items, while, at the same time, any other man would have destroyed them. That was when I started to realize, truly, that he never fell out of love for me. And, I guess I never fell out of love for him. Something my friends noticed, even when I was still stating “we are ONLY friends… Nothing more.” We went to a memorial for a dear friend of ours and a few weeks had passed before announcing our engagement. I spoke with a mutual friend who was at this memorial and she told me how she could understand and that she could see it in the way I was looking at him and him at me… It was in our eyes.
And that about sums it up, doesn’t it? There were plenty of reasons to end the marriage, but all has been corrected with acknowledgement and time; and with that, NOW we can move forward. Of course there are many who think I’m on some “pity romance” and to them I simply shake my head and state, “you don’t know me and you don’t know us.” Those are the Haters that say that. I know our history and know our present. I’m perfectly clear of what I can expect. Doug isn’t well, he has had a couple of strokes; that doesn’t make him any less of the man I love.
We go to brunch at this little place (have been since we were first married), there is this other man who hangs out there who had a fancy for me. He seems to enjoy telling me that Doug’s only intention is to take advantage of me… To never work, and states that he has a problem with that and why don’t I? Doug has worked over fifty years; over fifty years of backbreaking work – working freeway construction and owning a roofing company, which included many years of performing his own “tear-offs” (which are brutal enough without the triple digit heats we have). I do believe he has more than deserved his retirement and if I can give that to him, damn it I will!
It has been over four years since I’ve left him, and I’m finding myself everyday. It’s a daily trek for all of us, don’t you think? But the journey continues on and I continue to learn. Oh, I’ll still continue writing as I’ll still be Finding Ann MacGregor. Who knows? Perhaps F.A.M will even get published.