No going back no going home.

I got home from my holiday travel three days after my return flight was originally scheduled. The domino-effect delays and cancellations caused by the recent snowstorms led to my Thursday flight being cancelled and rescheduled for Friday. Then that Friday flight was cancelled. After lots of time on hold yet again, I was told the next flight I could get was for Monday. I later called back and managed to get a flight for Sunday, but then that one too was cancelled. More time on hold and the feeling I would never make it home led to looking for flights out of a nearby city an hour and a half away. I managed to get a a flight out of that city for Sunday. I was told that if I didn't make that flight, my next option from either city would be the following Wednesday. Both legs of that Sunday flight ended up being delayed, but I eventually got home at 2 a.m. or so Monday morning.


In a winter night

One of the gifts I got for Christmas was Enya's CD And Winter Came....* The words in the songs capture the hope and darkness that co-exist within winter. And within the process of grieving and healing.

The day my ex left, a friend told me that this process would be a marathon. I was too in shock to understand how true that would be. It was probably a blessing I couldn't understand how hard it is to try to work through and make sense of loss and endings and beginnings. But it's even harder to really truly accept deep down that some things just won't ever make sense and that you can't do a thing about it.

This is the night
they say
nothing is as it seems

They say the key is to just accept it, to let go and move on to a better life. I've been working on this. Somedays I feel like I am letting go and starting to build my new life. Things feel like they are going really well, considering the hell of the last six months. Other days I just look out at a vast winter night. Today, for example, the hope is thin.

Dark skies with miles to go

It's still early, I'm told. It hasn't been that long. But it's felt like forever to me. Time stops when your life explodes.

I was reminded today of a story someone shared with me this past fall. He had had knee surgery and the doctor told him that the recovery was one full year. The doctor said that he would eventually feel back to his normal self and that he would want to stop doing his exercises and treat his knee as normal. But, the doctor stressed, he had to continue to be gentle with his knee and do his exercises long after he felt his knee was healed. This same person has also been through the death of his spouse, and he told me that going through that grief had parallels to the physical healing of his knee. He said that healing is a long process and that you have to be gentle with yourself longer than you would expect.

Who can mend my broken drum?
Will it be as good as new?

I made chocolate-chip cookies tonight because I felt like it. Tonight there was supposed to be a good chance to see the northern lights. Thoughout the night, I've been going to check to see if I can see them out my window. But I'm in the city, and I guess I probably wouldn't be able to see them anyways. But I keep checking out my window. Just in case. I guess I'll take one more look before I head to bed.

Come! Sleep! Close your eyes
Come! Sleep! Give me your sorrow
and I'll keep watch for you
until the dawn is breaking through
until the morning wakens you


*The title of the post and all words in italics are quotes from the beautiful text of Enya's And Winter Came... album.