Sunday, May 08, 2011

He Thrusts His Fists Against The Posts

I left a while ago, went to a lake a couple of hundred miles from home. Just for a few days - because I had the time, because I wanted to get away from a lot of things, because I wanted a deep breath, and because I needed to. I went from the beginnings of spring here in Berwyn to the clutches of winter up in the mountains, and what was supposed to be a fishing trip of sorts turned into a hiking/fishing trip, as I had to search for spots where the ice floes yawned open into clear water.
In between seasons on the lake was an odd time to go, it turns out, and I noticed as soon I shut off the car engine in front of my cabin. Without the skiers or the summer crowds, the lake was completely deserted, and for three days I didn’t hear a single human voice aside from my own… so I searched for water and fished, soaking in the quiet, occasionally noticed that I was talking to myself, and found myself thinking (among other things) how difficult life on this lake must have been before supermarkets were a car ride away and people had phones in their pockets.
Most of the time I fished, didn’t catch much, but fished anyway. I got in the habit of leaving the cabin light on too, since I was down on the shoreline the first night when darkness rolled in and without the lights of any neighbors I struggled to find my way through the cold back to the cabin. When I was inside, I fashioned meals out of what I caught and what I had carried in, and wondered what Sara and the kids were doing back at home… and every morning I woke up there I sharpened hooks, tucked my pants into waterproof boots, stepped out into the crisp air and thought about them getting ready for school and work. I came home after a few days, and got back just in time to pick the kids up from school and take Lily to her dance class -and aside from the lingering scent of lake water I was back into the swing of things. In the end, I got some of what I was looking for, and remembered why I would rather be here... but most of that is stories for another time, and maybe a different blog.
Sara, since I’ve been writing here, thinks I have a ‘blog voice’… that the way I act and the things I say here don’t match… and maybe that this blog is just a place where I write how I wish things would be instead of the way they are. It’s true, I guess. I tend to romanticize things, fill in gaps of stories that I don’t remember or that were too boring the first time around – and certainly don’t always write about the struggles we have from day to day and the mundane parts that go along with them. The reality here is that we work every day to steer our lives, the kids, and our relationship in the right direction, and we still hit roadblocks, just like everyone else. She drives me insane, occasionally, and I’m sure I do the same to her. More than sure, actually. But as I go back and read old posts, and think about the 21 years (holy shit!) we’ve been together, I don’t think I’ve ever had a blog voice when it comes to her. Even though she might not know it all the time, and I certainly don’t say it all the time, I am completely and hopelessly in love with her. I’ve had regrets in my life, moments that have shaken me to the core and moments that have changed who I am as a husband, father, and human being. But given the choice, knowing all of the mistakes I have made, I would do them all again because they have gotten me here… here where I get to wake up and see her every morning, and where I get to watch each year roll by with her next to me. So I might have a blog voice, and I might say things just to make you want to read my next post, but no matter what else I need to embellish, I have never had to do that with Sara… because whether she believes this post or not when she reads it tomorrow morning, I cherish every day that I’m with her.
(and if you’re reading this before I’ve gotten out of bed, happy mother’s day!)

No comments:

Clicky Web Analytics