Monday, August 29, 2016


Our birth, the moment we enter this world, is the time we step on a path that is unique to us.

We are not alone.

At the very least, our mother is there, but she is on a path next to ours. It is one that is unique to her.

Imagine, every single person on earth, standing at a particular point in time, on their path. It is one that stretches behind them and in front of them, the very beginning of life to the very end.

Paths cross, but they are never one in the same.  Each individual is alone on a path. Alone but not necessarily lonely.

My children were born and for years, our paths rode side-by-side. As they grew older, their paths led them away from me, then back and then away again. Time gave them the space and confidence to push forward as they matured, while time dictated my need to be near and then far.

Eric and I have been so close, that our paths bump and collide with each other.  We have also been far enough apart that neither path is aware of the other. It is the choices we make that are the ones that bring our paths in and out of view of each other. Sometimes, those choices are made for us.

There are moments on my path where I am overwhelmed with sadness or even anxiety at the idea of being away from my children or Eric.  It is too much to feel how truly lonely my life is without them. Yet, even when we are together, my path is one that is unique to me. They are alone on their paths and I am alone on mine.

Lately, I've been doing my best to enjoy the path of my life by picturing the people I love as vista points along the road I have set to go down.  There is solace in the idea that while we are apart, they continue down their paths as if on a fabulous adventure that we can share when we happen to meet up again.

I look ahead for that next vista point, while learning to savor the scents and sounds of the place on the path where I am right now.

It's 1 o'clock in the morning and I'm awake, in our bed, wondering what this path has in store for me.



  1. Well it sounds like you aren't in a horrible place without Eric. You know as lame as this sounds, sometimes that realization, that you can be alone, though missing the ones we love, is a huge development in our growth process. Clearly we all CAN be alone, but how content with ourselves do we feel. Do we like ourselves? Do we have peace? Are we settled?

    I think of not too long ago reading here when Eric had been away, and you were frantic, almost manic in your writing ( that was okay btw, just an observation). Now, while you write about missing him, you seem very calm.

    Embrace that. Embrace the opportunity for life and reflection that the powers that be have chosen to give you, for whatever reason. ( I think you are)


    1. Hi Willie!
      Sorry it took me so long to write back to you. I read your comment and it sparked a conversation with Eric about just how much I have changed over the past few years. I went back over some of those initial posts; the months of February and March being downright heartbreaking! You and Eric agree, I seem to have found a less manic way of dealing with situations that previously would have sent me into full blown attacks of anxiety. It is very hard being in the situation we are, with Eric gone and me waiting for things to change at work, at home, at school. It's just a matter of time, I suppose, but time can be cruel. I try my best to enjoy what I have in the moment but often I feel as though I am waiting out the clock to get to a place where I can live the life I've chosen while other times I fear that I'm racing a clock that will run out before I ever get there. Last night was lovely; filled with unexpected connections that allowed me to sleep soundly. Have a wonderful weekend. I'm back in school so cramming for three days straight! Amy


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