kiwords

I have a good friend, who went through a bad divorce a while ago. During the era after the divorce, wherein she was working to rebuild her life after twenty years of marriage, people would occasionally tell her it was time to “move on.”
She hates that phrase. I don’t blame her either.
It sounds as though one can be expected to box up the loss, set it down, and walk away.
The truth is that losses aren’t left behind. They’re added, like brushstrokes, to the picture that is made of our lives. The picture, on the whole, may be beautiful, but throughout it is scattered the lines and colors of loss.
Sometimes as I think about my life, it’s like a mental shift happens, like when you’re looking at a Magic Eye picture. Suddenly my focus settles on the hurts, the pain. The rest of my life fades back and all I can see are the losses.
This morning was like that. I woke up to a day already colored by the perception in my head. And everywhere I looked I saw wounds.
I know this feeling is not reality, it’s a warped awareness. I know the rest of my life is there, full of joy and hope. I’ve been here before, waiting for the light to dawn and the full image to come back. Part of that happens through intentionally redirecting my focus, partly it’s just a matter of time. So I grimly headed into my day, to work and wait.
Two things happened, and though it seems silly, it’s like these events were orchestrated to reach right down and switch the light back on.
The first (I’m embarrassed to admit this) was a new lip gloss. No, really. I was out, shopping for Dad’s birthday, and I stopped to buy myself an Origins lip gloss. It smelled lovely and looked…well, like a lip gloss should, and I was pleased with myself for spending the money on me.
Then I arrived home to find…well…