Catching up the past, a letter to self

Dear Sandi,

Today is February 14, Valentines day in the year 2007. It must come as a shock to be reading a letter in your own hand that you know you’ve not written, but keep going I promise you’ll understand. It’s funny you’ve stumbled on this today; so many decisions are plaguing your mind and heart. You’ve stepped up the ladder and have acquired all the skills for your chosen profession, although it isn’t what you started out to pursue. You gave up your music career but it won’t give up on you. Now you’ll find it to be a more rewarding moment when you pick up the mike, instead of a ‘job’ to put a roof over your head and food on the table. All those demanding times spent till the wee hours of morn in smoky, dim lit lounges have ended. Your lungs will thank you for it, I promise. You’ll enjoy spotlight moments in the years to come, for there will be many, but with no stress attached to cloud them. You really did make the right choice.

This is without a doubt the hardest letter I’ve ever scribbled onto paper, but I feel I must where ‘self’ is concerned. These decisions you are facing now will chart a different course in the next few years, life as you know, will be changed drastically. Grief will be a formidable foe to overcome, but I assure you, you will. You’ve already dealt with the loss of Dad, though even after ten years, I still unconsciously pick up the phone on Sunday mornings to start dialing and realize midway he isn’t there to answer. On those occasions, get out of the house. Take a walk in the park, or drive to the forest and just start talking. For some reason, and when you least expect it, you’ll have moments of déjá vu, which will bring you peace.  It’s as if, he’s right there by your side, especially when feeling the most vulnerable.

I have a strong word of advice for all your private thoughts…let someone in, quit shouldering the whole load. I KNOW you know who that someone is. I also know you have always abhorred arguing, who better than I to say this, but after these past years, I have finally learned to let go and say what is on my mind. I pray, do it sooner! Get it out in the open, because it will consume you and cleave a deep crevice in your marriage. One that no bridge could ever be constructed to cross. Though you will love him in spite of yourself until his last breath and beyond. And that brings me to one of the most important topics of this, shall we say, view of the future, written to the past.

Please sit down for the next part of this missive; it will hit you in the gut like shot from a cannon, flinging shrapnel that will pierce every inch of your soul, not once, but twice up until now. It still deeply pains to write of it, but I must to help you understand and to cope with what’s ahead.

I’ve asked myself time and time again “what if?” Now I leave that open to your interpretation. Marriage is a sacred oath taken and lived by every day, no matter what mindset or obstacle presents its self. Your decision to find yourself in the coming year is not a bad one, everyone needs a little space, but perhaps ‘another chance’ given to your husband is warranted, though you don’t see it at the time. You’ll continue to ask, “How many times over the last seventeen years has it been asked for?” You will still be open to the idea, seeing each other a few times a week; things are going a little better and you’ll think ‘maybe’ when you hear the first cannon shot…August, two weeks after his 58th birthday, his heart disease ends life in his sleep three months after your decision to live apart. Think about it even more now, it will be the last three months to be together and forget all the indifferences. Tread carefully on the moments and live each to the fullest - together. I already mentioned the ‘what ifs? Another chance?” I never quit wishing…

The little box with access to the world will become your constant companion in the months to come, losing touch with reality, when away from the career that grinds you to the bone 50 hours a week. You’ll learn to make friends in the virtual, even meeting some in real life. Anything to replace the grief you’ll feel in your heart. Even after 10 years, there are those I still remain in contact with. Friendships made for life, and love will help dissolve the hardened knot of grief, at least on the outside. There are moments to overcome when you least expect them to rise.

Little by little, a new horizon will fill your view, one that spans across the ocean to the old world. A dream you’ve always had is within your grasp. It will smell of lilac and jasmine after all the nights spent in melancholy, and will read like a fairytale romance novel, each page scribed with devotion and love. New decisions to make made easy with nothing to hold you back. All that remains of home are four walls; ‘stuff’ you won’t care less about, except the pictures and cherished Christmas ornaments, which go rather neatly in a box to ship. Memories weigh nothing and come along whether you want them or not. Everything sorted and sold.

Will you even be surprised how easy it will be to leave that career of 19 years that has become a ball around your neck?  I can tell you now it won’t. Say good-by to everyone, you’re going to live a dream, one that will last a lifetime. I’m coming to terms with that last statement. ‘A lifetime’ How long is that anyway? Even now, after everything that has happened since I’ve arrived here in Europe, I still say, “If someone 10 years ago would tell me I would up and move half way around the world, I would have called them crazy.”  Well, I’m the one telling you know, and no, it’s not crazy, you will do this. You will live a life so filled with exploration, different cultures, different places, and languages- you’ll even find the missing part of your soul surrounded by deepest love and respect. Happiness will know your name and a few years will pass. But as I’ve stated earlier, there is another cannon to fire and wreak havoc.

Still sitting?  I hope so. There’s really no easy way to tell you that your 40th birthday will go by un-noticed, a blur actually, until Christmas. The fairytale will come to an end just as they all do, but with the exception of ‘they lived happily ever after.’
Put the coffee cup down that I know is being drank at the moment. I drink too much of that hearty brew and because this will be a pure shock after reading such wonderful lines in the previous paragraph, it will spill all over that cream
Berber carpet I saved so long to buy.

On October 21, 2002, the second love of your life will have committed suicide. For six months leading up to that date, harmony is shattered, and you/I will be facing the challenge of coping with a partner with a diseased mind. You will try everything you can think of, along with his mother and friends to change his way of thinking, but in the end, he will keep his date with destiny. Or given the chance to do these six months over, might there be a change? Who really knows the outcome given hindsight what will happen? I can only hope in my prayers.

It’s been a long four years and then some spent overcoming grief once again, or has it only been added too? Grief compounding grief usually equals disaster, but I’ve put my faith to the test as I have in all situations in life. You won’t bottom out completely, even though there will be times you’ll wish the ground would just swallow you up. Hang in there and remember something Dad used to say when the going got tough. He had a saying for everything, and was usually right.

Today, though filled with sadness in conveying the future to my past, is filled with love. It strengthens the circumference of the never-ending circle of my life. Another soul has touched yours/mine; a new family to call our own, with hopes that the best in life is yet to come.

I know this was a lot to swallow for one reading, but try to have a happy Valentine’s Day anyway, and be it with no regrets-- past, present or future.



Me