Holidays, regular days, birthdays, anniversaries, milestones for us, are what it has been for us for the past twenty-three and a half years. They have been lonely, depressing and endless reminiscing.
You would think that after this long we would have learned to accept our lot in life.
It has been tried and tried and failed and failed.
Over three years ago, when we took a big leap in life and up and moved back…we came back here with our tails between our legs.
Right back where we started from twenty-three and a half years ago, giving up job and security.
It appears that all that’s left are dreams.
Dreams are life…as long as we still have our dreams we have hope.
One day, you wake up and realize that you are in the autumn of life and people have moved on because you are so far away.
Is it that we are so far away?
You find that you are tired…so tired of trying to find that one piece of familiarity…After twenty-three and a half years one would think one would become familiar with ones surroundings.
One would almost think, wouldn’t one?
Yet, if my wish were to be granted, I would refuse. In a strange way, that most will not understand, desolation is my companion.
I would feel awkward.
Desolation is a miserable companion, but desolation is all I have known for most of my life.
Maybe desolation is my familiarity.
“All right, Mr. DeMille, I’m ready for my close-up.”