The summer days are but a sweet memory now – the Harleys are trickle charging and the leaves are letting go of their branches as they dance effortlessly to the cold ground below. Thick boy sweaters, Netflix on autopilot, Buffalo Trace on the rocks and some good old comfort foods beckon me to embrace the change of seasons and remind me – unforgivingly – that the passing of time is more often than not really about the possibilities that cradle the evolution of the spirit.
It wasn’t all that long ago that I was resigned to being alone in this world. I was good with where my life had been and all the gifts I had been given. I was surrounded by amazing friends and I welcomed the freedom that found me as I stepped into the second half of my life. The kids were as perfect as they were going to be – my most important job was done – and no jail time for any of us meant I must have done something right.
I had met so many amazing women as I journeyed outside of my comfortable suburban home. I had met fun, young, crazed women. I had met established, controlled, successful women. I met women who ride and women who dance – I even met a woman who danced as she rode. I hung out with women who could teach and women who most definitely needed to be taught. I met the creative creatures and the social activists and found myself at home in both worlds. There was indeed no lack of women in my romantically nomadic life. But the simple truth was I just hadn’t met anyone that took my attention away from all that was in front of me. I had not met anyone who reminded me that indeed love was a very real possibility – no matter how late in the game. I had not met anyone that was ready to love me as I could love – and there was no room for settling for anything less. So I was OK – Ok with being alone – what choice did I have?
Love is about so many things really. My children will tell you that there was a time that I preached something about “there was no such thing as love”. I am not certain I ever actually said those words – but I am certain my heart had been bruised and battered to the point of protecting myself at all cost – even if it meant singing the blues and building walls to shield my romantic soul from ever being fooled again. My kids did know better – because in the darkest of times – my song continued to be sung – my laughter pushed past most of my tears and hope silently lingered inside my poetic heart.
It is within the realm of unselfishness that love finds a way into the humblest of hearts. Unremarkable Hallmark holidays are awkwardly acknowledged simply to please another and in so doing – pleasing ourselves. She can have the parking spot and I will parallel park the car to keep her from stressing over the little things. The first bite of that caramel apple is no longer mine to take but rather mine to give – and so I give it unconditionally to her. I don’t know how to love any other way – I never have and I never will. Blind and hopeful – trusting and all in – there is no middle ground for a girl like me.
Not so long ago I was certain I would live alone for the rest of my days– and I was telling myself that it would be just fine. Without solicitation – without warning or hesitation everything changed. I was reminded that indeed I had not forgotten how to be loved. From the peaceful core of solitude and independent living grows a contented and passionate love. When it is right – really right – there are no battles – there is no crazy girl drama – there are no secrets or doubts– there is no time or boundary that can hold or define love unexpected.
Let the cool winds of autumn blow the color from the trees – transforming them into barren branches of winter. It is only a temporary alteration after all. Life moves and shakes us if we let it – so – we should let it. I will not see the fault or sadness in all that changes – but rather find the comfort in the endless possibilities that lie beneath the surface of all that might seem to be. I will embrace the seasons of this gifted life that has blessed me so abundantly. And I will do so in the loving arms of the girl who found me when I was so certain and so ready not to be found.
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About K. Guzman
Kathy grew up all over the US - lots of east coast time. She is a surfer girl with an unabridged curiosity. A woman whose mid life awakening continues to bring her to the place she was meant to be. Her degree in Journalism/Creative Writing from the University of Central Florida is being yanked from the archives and put to good use. Her two kids are grown and rock stars in this wild world – her Harley is ready for some serious summer miles – and her heart remains open to life, women and the possibilities each day brings.