I curl into the swing on my parents’ back porch, my eyes closed, setting the swing in motion with a single foot, the other leg tucked under me. I settle into the desert evening, the gentle breeze lifting the tendrils that have escaped my loose upswept ‘do. Everything about this moment feels relaxed and easy, something my soul cries out for desperately.
I listen to the sound of the windchimes singing in the zephyr, and same draft carries on it the scent of my father’s smoker cooking tomorrow night’s pulled pork. I smile at the memory of childhood dinners, and I think of husband #1’s description of my palate being that of a 5-year-old. He wasn’t far off: I love Kraft mac’n cheese, peanut butter and jelly, and ice cold chocolate milk; would live off of these simple pleasures if my headaches would permit. Alas, the migraines, do not – better for me, I suppose.
Jug lies at my feet softly snoring, and I think how much I love this dog and the swinging motion that brings me the quiet sense of peace pervading my being. I’ve always loved swings, would search them out even long after college when I felt stressed. There’s something about the rocking motion that calms my flustered heart. Babies feel it; maybe we just grow accustomed to it, and some of us never outgrow it – or maybe it’s a peculiarity particular to me; if so, I’ll take it.
I’m no closer to knowing where the next step along my somewhat broken and twisting path should be, but I’m lost in the soft beauty of this moment, something I’m not particularly good at. No, normally I am chasing ghosts of painfully ruined wreckages or worrying about uncertain tumultuous tomorrows. Staying right in the here-and-now requires a tremendous amount of concentration and focus, and I’m grateful for the entirety of the distraction.
I sigh deeply and open my eyes, struck immediately by the faded sun and the immediacy of the indigo twilight, a time of day I find all-encompassing. My eyes absorb the surrounding color, and I see nothing else; this shade of purple a pure testament to His Love, His steadfast, abiding devotion. Even when I feel separate, I see Him. And I know – I simply know.
The Unexpected Life 