VICISSITUDE

The reality in which we exist is random. I am frequently reminded of this. If you accept this as fact, then you are faced with a dilemma. How does one embrace the vicissitudes of this amazing ride called life? How do we survive the twists and turns?




Better yet, how do we grow, thrive and excel?

I had a moment when I felt that my life was as close to perfect as it could possibly get. I was better than happy; I was content. My happiness of that time is forever captured in a family photo taken after a fun day of skiing, standing together at the base of a mountain. That night, as we stood together in the kitchen preparing dinner our usual easy banter was oddly stilted. I was blithely chopping broccoli florets when he announced he was leaving.

His bags were already packed.

He hasn’t spoken to me since.

He had a boat in the city, an old stink pot brought back from the brink of death. I had given her a lot of time and elbow grease in aid of her resurrection. Our first night together was on that boat and nearly every weekend after that for the next three years. Three years of love and laughter. I had so many wonderful memories on that boat.

As I gathered my personal things from the boat — all the little inconsequential things, a makeup case, a hair dryer, the special blanket that made the boat my second home — I came to the realization that there was a “her”. She. Did She know about me? I doubt it. I was appalled to discover he had been with her in our bed, the bed we had been in just the weekend before, without the decency of washing the sheets between his trysts. It was a slap in the face to Us, She and me, an exemplification of how little respect he had for either of us. Did she know? I doubt it. I pulled the sheets off the bed and left them on the floor to be walked on.

I had been at peace with my world and in an instant it was gone.

Then came the darkness, the crazy. I was shattered into a million little pieces, certain I would never be whole again. It was ugly and raw. I became a Whirling Dervish. I dumped the flowers and the vase in the galley sink. I tore the curtains I had lovingly sewn and hung from the windows. I stomped the Valentine’s Day rose kept as a memento into dust on the salon floor.

Nine months passed. It was time to take a hard look at myself and I did not do so alone. I was buoyed by the support of a few girlfriends, who held an honest-to-goodness intervention. It was held on a boat and the sun peaked through the portholes, bathing us in a warm glow. We sipped rum and coke and I listened. These strong, beautiful women reminded me that I am a strong, beautiful woman. They pointed out in vivid detail how I was reclaiming myself through the dynamic life I chose to live and by the adventures I embarked upon.

In the process of reinventing me, unexpected single me, I chose to do things I had never done before. I sailed on the open ocean, out of sight of land for nearly a week. Wondrous! I traveled alone to the British Virgin Islands and spent a week on a chartered catamaran with five complete strangers. Amazing! I spent a week scuba diving in a country I had never been to before. Magnificent! I tried snowboarding. I went to shows solo if no one was able to accompany me. I road-tripped every chance I got. I made a point of hanging out with friends.

I remembered how much I truly liked Me.

I was able to look within and recognize a truth. I had given him a precious gift, one he did not deserve, one that should never be given to anyone other than oneself. I had given him my happiness.

I took it back.