Everything I'd Never Done, and a Trip to Illinois
Hello, my lovely peeps! I've missed you! Days have been flying by, and I'll realize it's a Thursday already, and think, "What happened to Tuesday and Wednesday? What did I wear? Did I have a snack?" Everything is in flux at the moment for Mr. Mersy and I. We're both beginning new job adventures that have surprised us and scared us and disappointed us and excited us. But it's good that things are moving and shaking.
A year and a half ago, I'd never been to New York City. I'd never faced conflict at work; I'd never stared down poverty and actually found food, jobs, and clothes for those I worked with; I'd never been called racist names; I'd never resigned from a good thing; I'd never battled yellow and black mold; I'd never reported a crime; I'd never hired anyone; I'd never started at the bottom and been promoted; I'd never been confident to speak my heritage version of Spanish; I'd never been an advocate; I'd never held my ground, fiercely; I'd never felt so overwhelmed; I'd never realized that bad and good are not always present in equal measure. But now, I have.
A few weeks ago we spent a weekend back home in Illinois with the best peeps in the world, M & Z & D. It was only two short days, but they seemed to stretch out like the sky and the fields. Most likely, it will be the last time we are all together at that particular spot on the globe. Everything is moving, changing, and growing for us five, but in the good and natural way that isn' ta shock, but a well-acknowledged comfort you can nod at as you rush past.
I don't think that Mr. Mersy and I are different than the two who left Illinois two autumns ago. I do think, however, that we are both "more so". More confident, more "us", more fully engaged. That's how it will be for all of us as we move onward, and when we meet again, us five fabulous peeps, we'll be "more so" in all the good ways.
M & Z stuffed us with good food, surrounded us with color, and walked with us through the prairies, enjoying the throaty croaking of the red-winged black birds.
The air had that faint, apple-orchard smell of the summer when everything is so fertile it's actually squishy and rotting- I gave the old garden a friendly smile as we walked past.
And when we flew back in to NYC, it was ok. These two worlds can coexist inside me, one holding my heart, and the other holding my acknowledgement that that's where I'm at at the moment.
Thank you, M, Z, & D for letting us come home. We love you all.
~Mersydotes
A year and a half ago, I'd never been to New York City. I'd never faced conflict at work; I'd never stared down poverty and actually found food, jobs, and clothes for those I worked with; I'd never been called racist names; I'd never resigned from a good thing; I'd never battled yellow and black mold; I'd never reported a crime; I'd never hired anyone; I'd never started at the bottom and been promoted; I'd never been confident to speak my heritage version of Spanish; I'd never been an advocate; I'd never held my ground, fiercely; I'd never felt so overwhelmed; I'd never realized that bad and good are not always present in equal measure. But now, I have.
A few weeks ago we spent a weekend back home in Illinois with the best peeps in the world, M & Z & D. It was only two short days, but they seemed to stretch out like the sky and the fields. Most likely, it will be the last time we are all together at that particular spot on the globe. Everything is moving, changing, and growing for us five, but in the good and natural way that isn' ta shock, but a well-acknowledged comfort you can nod at as you rush past.
I don't think that Mr. Mersy and I are different than the two who left Illinois two autumns ago. I do think, however, that we are both "more so". More confident, more "us", more fully engaged. That's how it will be for all of us as we move onward, and when we meet again, us five fabulous peeps, we'll be "more so" in all the good ways.
M & Z stuffed us with good food, surrounded us with color, and walked with us through the prairies, enjoying the throaty croaking of the red-winged black birds.
The air had that faint, apple-orchard smell of the summer when everything is so fertile it's actually squishy and rotting- I gave the old garden a friendly smile as we walked past.
And when we flew back in to NYC, it was ok. These two worlds can coexist inside me, one holding my heart, and the other holding my acknowledgement that that's where I'm at at the moment.
Thank you, M, Z, & D for letting us come home. We love you all.
~Mersydotes
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