It now makes sense, Nashville Tennessee

May 30th
As I sit in my bed at my new home drinking a diet soda, a giggle because I swore I would give up caffeine once again when I returned back to the United States. It is 3:30am, 9:30am in Spain, and I write because I was awaken from a dream-a nightmare, because now things make sense…..

My dear friend, Arturo, gave me good advice when I left for Europe. A world traveler himself, he said very simply, “When you get back from Europe, your problems, your life will be there, leaving is not going to solve anything”. I took this and seeded it deep into my spirit as I traveled, because part of me knew this is exactly what I was searching to do.

You can see it in other’s eyes as you travel. For some, the pain begins to dull and you can begin to see a hint of life coming back. Story of life, good or bad, that is evident as their eyes smile, when the whites glimmer, and the deepest dark of their eyes reflect your face as you gaze into the stranger’s soul. I am not talking about the hoards of early 20- something year old that are more interested in getting high and drunk, but the lone travelers with all that they own at this point in their life strapped to their back. Most, no all, have a story; and they are all open to share portions. As they tell their story, you can begin to understand why they would come to this place; sometimes I hear a story similar to my own.


So as I traveled, I remembered that no matter how far away I was from my problems, life’s struggles; I took time each day to remember what I came from-what lessons God was teaching me- what I had-what I loss-and now what I wanted. I reflected on where I was one year before and the pain that I felt. I remembered how I have grown, and how I want to continue to grow as I am in Europe getting as far away as I can from the memory of the gut wrenching pain.

So instead of stopping time in the two months I was gone, I learned to live again. I learned to like myself again, to love myself again, and begin to trust again. I learned to look in the mirror and see what others saw. This is what Europe meant for me, the best souvenir that I brought back was myself with portions mended, a soul, a spirit starting to be put back together again.

Yes, this is what makes sense as it is only 36 hours as I stepped off the plane and about 12yrs from the moment I read the heart stinging email that told me that my ex-husband is going to be a father. Only short of 9 months, and the same 9 months that will be the laps in time from the day last fall that I picked up the telephone and called a phone number with her on the other line. It will be about 9 months from the Sunday morning that I asked him who she was, and the same morning that he denied the existence of her. It will be about 9 months from the moment I stepped into the lawyers office because I refused to be another one of those police officers wife’s that I have seen at social gatherings who seem unhappy. The light drained from their eyes, my instinct is because they, and everyone else knows that their husbands are taking advantage of being a man in uniform. It will be nine months from the day I made myself get out of bed, put my business suit on that Monday morning, and made it to the 8am meeting that I had to keep leaving because I was unable to hold any liquids or solids in my body. My body still in shock, numb, shut down from knowing that 24 hours ago was the end of a marriage that no matter what I did in the past or could ever do in the future, would rebuild the trust that the past eight months of lies tore down.

So as I sit writing for the first time since I have returned from Europe, it is now 5am in the morning and 11am in Spain. I am ok. I am ok with the fact that the man that I wanted with all my being to have my children resemble, will now have children with the face of another mother.

It now makes sense what the mountains of Spain brought me, what the Tuscan Country side taught me, what the dozens of people that I met on my journey did for me. It all brought me life, my life, that I hold in my hands; a life with what I can make a choice to feel sorry for my self, or a life that I can make better.
So no Arturo, I did not run from my problems and heart ache continues to revel its self even the day I return, but I think what ever happened in Europe….made me better.