I find that I must move away from what I love to move toward what I love. It is the lot of women to leave what they love to follow what they love or move toward something else that they love.
In this moment, as I did all morning from the time I rose while it was still dark outside, I feel torn, split in two, being forced to divide myself into mutiple people, several segments, each with different loyalties, affections and desires.
I am sad to leave my mom in Texas, and sad to leave Texas itself, while thrilled to be going home to my children, my sons, and my current home which IS home to me. My belongings are there. My garden is there. So many memories are there. I am returning to those things, away from memories, loved ones, and another place that I called home in the 80s and 90s.
I am also leaving two of my adult children, a wonderful daughter-in-law and three grandchildren. Oh, it is heart-rending to leave so much that I love.
I can’t wait to see how much my garden has grown in 6 days. I am even excited about driving my old car and walking into my house and seeing my cat, Boots. It is a bittersweet excitement.
Tears come to my eyes as I think about my mom. I was on the first leg of my flight, reading some junk fiction when the protagonist merely thought the word
“mother,” and I got weepy.
I feel so far away when I am in Connecticut. A million miles and years away. I am not sure why the sensation of time is included in this sense of distance, but it is. I am always shocked at how much time passes between visits to Austin.
And now I am 30,000 feet above ground plummeting through space and time toward my connecting flight. Every mile, every minute takes me away from what I love but brings me closer to what I love.
It is the lot of woman to be divided so throughout her life.