That Distant, Pretty View
When everything crumbles around you, you see all the pieces that were hiding.
It often feels so distant. As if it was an imaginary world and nothing in it was as it seemed.
Our love.
Our marriage.
Our life together.
It feels like it never existed.
And then, at the same time, it feels like I could stretch my arm out and feel him beside me. When I turn to look next to me it’s him sitting there.
That view.
A light, breezy view. As if it’s a childhood memory. You shake your head like an etch-a-sketch to erase the picture and press mute on the squeaking of the seesaw to hear yourself again. To remind yourself where you live now.
Living on unsteady ground. That’s the reality I’ve acknowledged. I can’t stop the ground from shaking, the world from crumbling.
Sometimes, though, it would be nice if I could have a long pause.
I just want to enjoy the view.
I want to believe the hurtful things never existed. I want to believe my childhood was filled with sandcastles and cupcakes and my marriage was built in perfect harmony that would last until we were old and gray.
That view.
I love that view.
And the picture above? That’s a beautiful view, too. I wish I could look at that picture and simply appreciate the city. The Queen City for all it’s worth. Yet, when I look at it, I remember where I was. Where I was standing, looking out the window and admiring its beauty.
I remember thinking, “Wow, this city is so beautiful. This view is absolutely perfect, bare trees and all.” I snapped a picture.
And then my lawyer walked in the room and I sat down to talk about things that should have gutted me.
And maybe they did.
I opened the box on issues I never wanted to address:
Life.
Death.
Marriage.
Widowhood.
Bullshit.
My husband’s funeral wasn’t even three months prior and I was now sitting with a lawyer to tidy shit up that I never thought I would have to do. I genuinely do not remember if I cried, or if I channeled a cold heart to get through the process.
So much comes to light when your life falls apart. When everything crumbles around you, you see all the pieces that were hiding. You hear all the voices you were blocking. There is no wall protecting you. There is no white noise to distract you or calm you.
It’s simply you.
It’s you and your gut.
You and your body.
You and your brain.
You and your heart.
And you hear them and feel them clearly.
It’s time to clean up. It’s time to get up. It’s time to remember who you are when all the distractions are taken away. Who you are when the only voice you hear is your own.
And that can be terrifying.
There is no one left to make decisions for you. There is no one left to explain away your feelings.
It’s just you.
You and a distant, pretty view.
A pretty view of the life you’ve envisioned. A pretty view of the life you’ve lived. And then reality breaks through the door and the view is behind you.
And your brain kicks in and your gut starts screaming and your heart starts breaking and your body starts moving.
It starts breathing.
It starts holding you up while you dig through this mess you never imagined you’d be living in.
Because your heart blocked your brain.
Your distractions muted your gut.
And you believed that everything you were doing, every stride you made in life, was building up this one vision.
This one vision that required another person in order for it to survive. Your future depended on the partnership of someone else. It depended on the notion that two people were working for the same thing. And it depended on the fantasy that you would be together until your grandkids were introducing you to their babies.
That view.
That beautiful view I admired and loved had a major flaw.
I put too much of my happiness on its existence. I put too much of my effort in the fantasy I would never have to raise kids on my own. I would never have to hear my children sob at their father’s funeral. I put too much of my aspirations in something I had no control over.
I wanted my vision to be real. I fought for it. I built everything up to accommodate it. And I never stopped to truly consider if that vision was really representing me at all.
That view.
It’s pretty.
It’s tidy.
It looks safe.
It looks loving and adventurous.
And when it all crumbled down. When all the walls burned to the ground, I was standing there stripped down and without a shield.
I was standing there with a choice to lie down and cover myself up in the debris or start cleaning up a path out of this mess. Start cleaning up a path out of this chaos I never believed would be true. The aftermath of a world I once built.
And yet, a world that never belonged to me.
The ground is always moving and our lives are always fleeting.
I have control over my choices.
I have control of my balance.
I remember looking at the city view and turning away to talk with my lawyer, making decisions on things that could have buried me in misery.
And I handled it.
I handled it one January day wearing mascara, super cute boots, and one of my favorite sweaters. I handled our meeting.
It was ugly.
It was uncomfortable.
It was true.
And I made it home to greet my kids off the bus. My kids who now were also learning a pretty view doesn’t last forever.
I fell for awhile.
My kids witnessed it.
They knew life as we imagined it was over. And I fought hard to still make that vision true. I fought to still give them that beautiful view. To still, somehow, continue life as if I can remain down the same path. As if I can just pick this mess up, package it tight and carry it with me. I can just keep walking and all will be well. They can have their sandcastles and cupcakes and a family built in perfect harmony.
But they could see I was hurting.
They know I still hurt.
They know because they do, too.
They know our life won’t ever be the way we once believed it to be.
And then I stopped trying to rebuild our broken walls. And I listened to myself.
I trusted myself.
I helped myself.
I picked myself up.
I know the ground is moving. I know everyone around me is fleeting. And I know my focus isn’t dependent on anyone else. I can stand on unsteady ground. I found my balance.
That view.
“Isn’t it pretty to think so?” The view of a picket fence life.
It’s a beautiful story.
A brilliant fantasy.
But now I can feel my world.
My life.
My reality.
My truth.
The beauty isn’t around me. The beauty isn’t dependent on the sun or the moon. The beauty is within me.
Beauty has pain, but not from skin care routines or hair removal techniques. It’s from living—choosing to live even with scars and bruises.
Whether I feel hollow and empty inside or warm and fuzzy, the beauty is within me.
The world can move.
The ground can shake.
And I’ll stand.
People can gather around or scatter away.
I’ll still stand.
The way you put all the messiness of life into words is exquisitely & painfully true. ❤️Xoxo
I have read this post several times.
It brings back times for me where I picture myself standing in an abyss. Just standing there….
looking at nothing but looking at everything if that makes any sense.
A feeling in my gut I can’t really explain. not pain, not nausea, just …. off.
I really can’t remember a time when I didn’t feel this way. Yes, I have times where I have felt joy and happiness…you know, all the cookie cutter life stuff. But my core, my gut I guess, has always had “that feeling”
One (of many) specific situation that really shook me was July of ’96. A very dear friend of mine had been fighting AIDS. He felt he had contracted HIV in the early to mid ’80’s. He was diagnosed with Mononucleosis at that time. I remember him saying the World didn’t like to talk about HIV back then so it surely must be just a common virus. Anyway, fast forward a bit. He and I, as well as his family, remained very close. We’d go to see Nutcracker at the Warner Theater, hang out at the beach in the summers, dinners, hang and watch senseless movies, etc. I volunteered at the Red Cross at one point. I would go around to industries/business and teach first responder first aid classes. It was a two hour class and if the business would like, I would add a second two hour session relation HIV/AIDS education. How I would “introduce” the second portion of my session was at the end of the first. I would tell everyone there would be a 15 minute break and when you get back we will begin our session on HIV and I have a coworker who will be helping me with the session…pause…I’d ask “Does anyone know anyone with HIV or AIDS? The responses were such an eye openers. One gentleman literally physically tensed up, his face got red and gave a stern, harsh “NO, I would never associate with that kind. I would know”. I smiled and proceeded to let everyone know what time to return to the room.
My friend arrived during the break and I told him the responses I had received. Pointed out the gentleman who gave the harsh no.
We reconvened and introductions were made.
I have to tell you this particular session was like something out of a movie or something. I don’t know why or how it was so different than the previous times, it just was. My friend and I just played off each other. Gave the basics, went a little deeper on details as appropriate and engaged the room. Questions were flying, laughs were had, looks of amazement as well as looks of complete confusion…all present that two hour slice of time. At the end or the session my friend asked if anyone knows anyone with HIV/Aids. All Reponses were a no, nada, not I. He paused for a moment, smiled and said “Well, now you do” OMG!!!! You could have heard a pin drop at that moment! It was AMAZING! One woman actually cried. The best part (for me anyway) was when the gentleman who “WOULD KNOW” walked up to my friend and shook his hand thanking him for being there that day. I can not describe the moment to give it complete justice. It was beautiful.
Fast forward back to ’96…
I found myself a single Mom, working as a Home Care/Hospice Nurse. Life was nutso. No time to think, no time to laugh…only time to “do”. My friend was doing poorly. Kaposi Sarcoma attacking his system. His balance was off, like he was drunk and couldn’t stand up or walk without leaning and of course falling. I got him in to see an Infectious Disease doc. Of course that ended up with him being admitted to the hospital. He had to have a drain put in his brain to allow the cerebral spinal fluid a pathway. He had swelling in his brain due to the sarcoma’s. Thankfully I had worked in this hospital in the past and my friend received extra attention. It was a comfort to his parents and of course to me. My brother in law went and prayed over him the day he passed away. His description of the session (for lack of a better word) was also amazing. He said he walked in and his friends and lover were surrounding the bed just staring at my friend lying in his bed comatose. It wouldn’t be long at this point. My brother in law described a darkness in the room. He said he almost turned and walked away. At that moment everyone who surrounded my friends bed looked over at him (BIL) and asked who he was and “what do ya want”. No welcoming smiles or greetings had there. My BIL said he was my BIL and he wanted to come in and pray for my friend. The group relaxed and opened an area for my BIL to walk to the bedside. My BIL prayed over my friend as well as everyone in the room. The group thanked my BIL for coming and his kindness. My BIL said when he was walking out he stopped a second and looked back and it was if someone had turned a light on that illuminated the entire room. He said he felt Love and it was beautiful.
That particular morning for me was chaotic. My daughter who was a toddler at the time and the will of a Bull was not cooperating with ANYTHING. I was late for work, I hadn’t even had time for a sip of coffee. I walked into the office and was told by the secretary. one of the secretaries who had absolutely NO compassion or tact to say the least, “Oh, Debbie, Your friend is dead. We just got the call” I wanted to punch that Bitch in the face.
I gave her a glare that should have killed her then turned and walked out of the building. I walked in to my friend’s room. He was still there, waiting on his family to arrive. The nurses assured me he went peacefully. I had no words. I literally couldn’t speak.
The moment I was referring to before I started this ramble happened when I walked out of the hospital.
It was a sunny warm day. People were laughing and smiling everywhere I turned. I wanted to scream! “Don’t you people know what just happened! Don’t you know I just lost my best friend! WHAT THE FUCK is wrong with you all!”
I was bawling, so angry, so disgusted with it all….
That summer I lost my best friend and two of my cousins in a six week period. My cousins were around my age, very young at the time. One from a suspected suicide, the other from a heroin overdose who by the way also had HIV.
I am bawling as I sit here and type this. I haven’t “detailed it out” in such a long time. These feelings and this particular time in my life is what I was brought back to every time I read your/this post.
It reminded me of the feeling that never goes away. The feeling, for me anyway, that has been there my entire life. Being part of this world but not being part of it. Always feeling as if I am watching as it happens. My words and my mind can not describe it accurately.
Anyway…..I have always felt you are an extremely empathetic person. Being an empathetic person causes much joy at times, however….the pain it brings is unfathomable. It is ultimately a battlefield of the mind. You (as I need to) must control our thoughts, our emotions and lay it out if you will. Controlling the ever wanting rage, anger, sadness as well as love, joy and happiness. Not allowing the scenarios in our mind to spiral out of control is key.
I am amazed by your ability to “carry on”, again because I can’t think of a better way to describe it right now. You are facing and dealing with the bullshit of this life. Realizing the moments in front of you are the moments to cherish. Choosing to remove yourself and those you are responsible for away from toxic situations and people. Again, key.
What I am waiting to see for you and your life is in process. I see it more and more every time I read one of your posts or chat with you. To me anyway, you have always “watched” your surroundings. Even as a little girl. You watched, contemplated and then chose your acceptance of the situation, or not. What I see for you if you’ll allow is a true sense of you. The acceptance of Love. Not just the love from and for people, it is the love of self. I may be way off base (it happens lol) but Your walls were built very very young through no fault of your own. Your life situations made you have to build those walls for your minds survival. It is very difficult growing up and not being understood, I mean UNDERSTOOD to the core. Life gets too busy. People get caught up in there own shit and details elude us all.
I guess what I am trying to express is the importance of you. You are the key to you. No one around you can bring you full circle. Others will contribute to your life but you must chose you first. Look in the mirror everyday and tell yourself how amazing you are. Tell yourself the importance of you. Tell yourself there is no one who can or should tell you how to be. The true sense of self without the arrogance that so many throw on there backs.
Again, my mind and my words are not jiving. I will let you with my rambling thoughts and words as they lay.
Please know, I Love you, I love who you have been and I love who you are becoming.
Stand strong Beautiful Chickadee 🙂
perfect example of life’s bull shit.
I just finished writing a comment to your post. I’m raw and wiping my tears. It’s still dark outside and I need coffee.
As I sit reviewing things in my mind…I get a SEXME text on my phone
I mean What the FUCK!!! Hahahaha
Carry on, right?!?!?!?