A Perfect Moment

The Milestone

I love this picture of me with my grandson, Jack. It’s very special to me. The photo was taken fifteen years ago and it represents an important milestone in my life. I’m writing this post to share an interesting backstory.

After fifteen years in a second unhappy marriage, I left. I gathered up what was left of my courage, patched my bruised ego, and moved as far away from him as I could afford to. I wasn’t sure who I was any more.

My daughters on the east coast wanted me near them. My dad in Ohio wanted me to move there. I knew they questioned my decision to move elsewhere—they told me.

With a move from New Hampshire to Pennsylvania, I had my own doubts and I was terrified. I had never been so alone with myself before and yet I knew that was exactly what I needed to do —I had to be alone to heal.

Aside from a few other things I had been through in the past, these were some of my darkest days. I seriously feared the me I would find when I looked inside. Who the hell was I? What did I want from life? What was important to me?

I knew I needed time by myself and distance would play an important part, if I was to find my answers. But who I thought I was had become so entangled with who I knew I wasn’t, that I wondered whether I could separate the two.

It was a long slow process. I found a good job, but it was in DuBois, twenty miles from my apartment in Punxsutawney. On the drive to and from work, I searched for answers.

When I got home, I wrote letters to myself, asked questions, answered them and then I slept. When I woke, it began again. I also did a lot of crying, gut-wrenching sobs that were both exhausting and cleansing.

After eight months, my oldest daughter, Carrie, came to visit from her home in Connecticut with my grandson, Jack. They were a welcomed sight. I knew I would need to reconnect with Jack. He had grown so much. He was only an infant the last time I saw him.

I waited for him to feel comfortable with me and, after a while, he came over to where I was sitting on the couch, talking with Carrie. I pulled him up on my lap and, saying nothing, I leaned back with Jack on my tummy. For the longest time, we just stared at each other intently, silently reconnecting.

Then, on a whim, I slowly stuck my tongue out. He watched, not moving, or making a sound, and then he stuck his tongue out. It was such a precious moment and Carrie caught it perfectly with her camera.

Now it is a perfect memory, framed and hanging on my wall …

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