Diggin' out the memories

I don't know if I have ever blogged about the loathsome crawlspace in my basement, but in that space was a box I knew one day I would pull out to go through. The box is labelled "recent memories" although the photos and memorabilia aren't that recent. I crawled into bed to read this afternoon, but something told me it was time to open up that box. I then crawled into the space (literally) and dug out the box. I turned on the radio and poured myself a chilled glass of Pinot Grigio (yes, please note I am drinking in the afternoon...really, I needed that drink. I promise). Inside the box there were albums from elementary and high school; my wedding; my life with Mike; my life with Chester and Stan.

Poor Meg. She got two messages today. The first was about a short story she wrote in college that I still have. The second was about a poem I wrote in high school about us. I wish she were digging through the memorabilia with me. Maybe I will have her over to do so...with another glass of Pinot Grigio.

What really struck me were the pictures of Mike and me. We looked so young and we looked uber-happy. Now my smile sometimes seems contrived in pictures; then, when I was with Mike the sheer joy of life was painted on my face. It isn't that I am not happy now...I just feel like happiness now means different things than happiness meant back then. Mike and I were in pure love. I have cards and letters he wrote me from Greenland and Antarctica that show this love. I feel like we lived in this world of "us against them" and we conquered all. Happiness now is different. I am beginning to see what it might be like. Looking at pictures today made me realize that was then; this is now. A new chapter is unfolding, whatever that might be. It might not look as pretty and well coordinated as my life with Mike was. But a new chapter has to be created or the book will go nowhere. And we all hate reading books that bore us or have no great ending (or beginning to the next sequel).

I thought the emotions I would have looking through the memories would overcome me; rather, they actually solidified where I am right now. Mike has inhabited a space in my heart no one else can have. Now, when I go to the cemetery, he and I have heart to hearts (the poor lone walking man in that area of the cemetery can attest to that) but I don't feel Mike gone from me...rather, I feel him inside, keeping my heart beating and my blood flowing and my mind alert. Although I knew I had to go through those memories, and I thought that would be a hard thing to do, in actuality it revived me. Perhaps now I am older, wiser, and have had life experiences many 34 year olds have not....however, all it makes me be is as real as I was when I was 18, or 21 or 25. Life makes us real. It has made me understand that more now than ever before.