For a Year

Today is a year.  More than a year since my kick-ass goodbye party in Chicago, more than a year since I left my job and my friends.  A year since Mom and Kimmy drove me to the airport, talking me up, and talking about people they knew.  A year since I sat in the Philadelphia airport, waiting to fly one-way to Ireland, wearing Elise’s most beloved Cub’s t-shirt and the hiking pants I’m wearing right now.  A year since I met sweet little Josie and her equally sweet, if not more grouchy son, who drove me all the way to Galway.  I remember walking the wild western coast of Ireland, in a haze of sea foam and jet lag, wondering what the year would bring, who I’d meet, who I’d be.  The big picture of those wonderings, in hindsight, is too much for me, impossible to reflect on in their entirety.  But I can think about and acknowledge the little bits.  Because what has this year been, has any year been, but lots of little bits linked together like the finest of golden chains, worn thin by the salt of our tears?

How am I different, who am I now?  If anything, I’m much the same, if a little more… myself.  Both a little more open, and a little more skittish.  I’m more enamored with the world and her crazy people, as equally galvanized by love as I am fractured by hate.  I’m a little more inked and a little more brave.  A little more sun-kissed, a little more sun-damaged.  Sometimes I think I’m a little more tolerant, other times I’m concerned I’ve become decidedly less patient with nonsense, cultural or otherwise.  I’m more expectant and anticipatory, excitedly bracing for what’s to come.  I’m a little more idealistic and a little more realistic.  I feel a little more peaceful being single and childless in a world that stigmatizes women like me, even if on some days, I’m also a little more sad about it.  I’m a little smarter, and a little less sure of things.  Of anything.  A little drier of booze, but more saturated of coffee.  I’m more independent, and more in need of my people: there’s nothing like being solo for a year to teach you the value of relationships.  

This world is a big place, and we get to be here.  I get to be here.  This is no little bit.  I'm grateful.  So radically, terrifically, from-the-trampoline-into-the-ballpit grateful.  Let's see what's next.