Waterline

It's funny sometimes how I think I'm doing one thing, and actually the long term result is that I've done something completely different than I originally thought. Usually this is best illustrated by people, who I think I'm interacting with, and who is left over with after the water settles.

Women's Weekend is a good example of that for me. I thought I was going there to tattoo, and see my friends from the river, and ended up with Angelique. Through her I became acquainted with Sister Sarah and other Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence. Angelique played the role of   Archetype of Mother for me, and was pivotal in some major healing. I thought I was just going on a business trip and I met the woman who was able to help me heal the little girl who still cried for lack of a mother, the mother in fear of not knowing how to raise a daughter. 

My personal transformation had begun the Wednesday night before when I thought I was just going to see the Indigo Girls as a mother's day present from Michael. I cried through the entire concert, from Matt Moriss' simple acoustic opening songs to the more poignant songs that Amy and Emily can always reach me with. By the time they played "Ozalline" which contains the words 

"I had to put the dog down,

Before I hit the road,
I watched that sweet old life
Become a bag of bones."

I was sobbing. It spoke to me of the loss of my Jack Bennett, who I hadn't finished crying for; my thirteen year companion who died as I held him and let him go at the same time. The best friend I wear inked into my skin with "Good Dog Jack Bennett" surrounding it. Michael encouraged me to go ahead and cry, everyone was looking at the stage, it was dark in there, and loud enough that no one could hear me as I let go in his arms. We probably looked romantic. I thought I was going to a concert and I opened a flood-gate that wasn't done flowing for a week.

I met a man in early recovery, who was good looking, and an amazing artist, who eventually needed a room to rent. We could talk about art and life for hours. I interpreted this to mean that we were in love and a couple and he actually went along with me for a few months there, we definitely had a a connection and we shared so much in common. He was mystical and hard to touch, like fireflies or northern lights, and hard as I tried I couldn't make him love me. I did try too. I thought I was having a boyfriend, but what I was really doing was gaining a lifelong sister. His sister. 

I see now that the only reason that he and I were ever together was so that I could meet her and have her in my life. I do have regrets that he and I can't seem to be friends now. I know the woman he married and have liked her. He and I shared so much common ground. Now we're both married to the perfect mate we waited so long for, and I've done my best to make amends for my behavior when I was trying to make him stay. Like my boys' dad, it still mystifies me that we're not friends, I am a good and loyal friend to have now that I'm grounded in the love I was meant to live, and you're not in danger of me thinking that you should love me and here's my plan for making it happen.

This sister-friend though, well, well, well. We have managed to maintain our relationship through all of the tempest of my tears as I battered her poor brother's shore. Through the floods of tears that I wasn't going to get what I wanted. Through the years of single moms raising teenagers miles apart and yet together. I thought I was on myspace but what I was really doing was maintaining a friendship that was destined to last indefinitely.

We see each in person other rarely, and hopefully that will change at the beginning of the year. She and Amber and Josh have plans to move back to town here and be close enough to visit regularly. By visit, I mean we could go into each others' refrigerators without asking. I was born without blood siblings, every time she calls me "sister" it gives me this little thrill of unfamiliarity and warmth. I've never had a sister. She refuses to let me remember that. She's another archetype for me, and I get to see her today. It seems like only yesterday we visited, and yet the video I'm sharing with this post was made a year ago by her son Josh, so it's been a whole year.   We write so regularly that the time seems much shorter.

These people I write of, the ones that are the waterline, that mark my high points after the floods have receded, are the true gifts that I find as I go along my merry way thinking I'm doing one thing yet actually doing another. Good thing I don't really know what it is I'm doing, or only do what I set out to do, or I would be missing so much. I went to an NA meeting, and came home with my husband.