My sweet little car was full of empty water bottles and pistachio nutshells when I got back from Denver. I was too tired to notice on Wednesday night when I got off the plane, but at 5 AM on Thursday the empties clunked around every curve as I drove to the gym. My girl is not here to fuss with, she’s volunteering on the Appalachian Trail this week. I just put car pool on my list of stops for Friday. I drove the ten miles through a world that seemed claustrophobic, too green, the air too thick, the fog reminding me that I was no longer in the mile high city with its clean crisp atmosphere. As I run on the elliptical I think about my options. My life has shifted again and I have choices to make. I told my director today that I was considering moving to Denver, knowing it makes no sense on many levels except I want it, selfishly. My husband ran the numbers and explained that he needed to work three more years to retire at maximum dollars. I know it would be safer to stay, more sensible. My oldest will come home in the spring, his wife perhaps pregnant with my first grandchild. To tell him I might be gone would be an agony. On the phone my girl said to make my decision independently, not thinking about my children for a change. Old habits die hard, but in my heart I know Colorado feels like home already. I made myself indispensable while I was there. Everyone hugged me and got teary eyed when I left, begged me to stay, to come back.
One morning last week I walked through the small mall near my hotel, Tamarack Square. It was lined with old men and women just sitting at 9 in the morning, trying to fill up an empty day with something. Sometimes I still doubt myself, wonder if I am running too fast, trying too hard. I am in a place past exhausted, but a runner’s high has kicked in and life seems bursting with opportunity and challenge. I’m going back on the fourteenth and the director told me to take a few extra days to look at houses. My husband wants to take me to the beach this weekend, perhaps to remind me there will be no ocean on the high chaparral. He fears change the way I fear stagnation; a strange marriage for sure, but one that has somehow survived through all the changes. In the end we will make the decision together, like we always do. He will need time to accept the possibility, and I to think through my impulsiveness. I know that either here or there makes no difference ultimately, because the decision I made more than two years ago was to live my life to the fullest, eyes wide open. It’s just that in Denver, I can see further.
One morning last week I walked through the small mall near my hotel, Tamarack Square. It was lined with old men and women just sitting at 9 in the morning, trying to fill up an empty day with something. Sometimes I still doubt myself, wonder if I am running too fast, trying too hard. I am in a place past exhausted, but a runner’s high has kicked in and life seems bursting with opportunity and challenge. I’m going back on the fourteenth and the director told me to take a few extra days to look at houses. My husband wants to take me to the beach this weekend, perhaps to remind me there will be no ocean on the high chaparral. He fears change the way I fear stagnation; a strange marriage for sure, but one that has somehow survived through all the changes. In the end we will make the decision together, like we always do. He will need time to accept the possibility, and I to think through my impulsiveness. I know that either here or there makes no difference ultimately, because the decision I made more than two years ago was to live my life to the fullest, eyes wide open. It’s just that in Denver, I can see further.
Perhaps you could live in Denver part-time.
ReplyDeleteYou're already bisexual. Why not go bi-coastal?
P.S. A lot of Canadians are bi-coastal.
ReplyDeletedenver has called my soul for years. good luck with your decision making :)
ReplyDeleteM@ darlin', you have a wicked sense of humor, ya know? I would like to try it for maybe 6 months to see before leaping in, but that may not be an option. Just stop now M@, you know what I'm talking about.
ReplyDeleteRoselle it is a strangely spritual place, odd really, but it calls me somehow. The wilderness is so close to the edge of the city it's like living in two worlds at the same time.