Showing posts with label Life's journey. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Life's journey. Show all posts
Friday, December 30, 2016
The End of my Love Affair with Louis
I dragged the old Louis XV chair closer to the window this morning here in my daughter's first apartment so I could look out across the snow-covered rooftops while I sipped my coffee and ate my soft-boiled egg. She still needs a small kitchen table, so I had to create a makeshift dining nook. As she slept, I reflected. Her apartment is a small walk-up and is much like one I lived in back in the 80's. I had forgotten what it was like to have to walk several flights up the stairs with groceries or down to the laundry room after rummaging for coins. It took me back to those days and memories of my first marriage when we lived in that apartment.
It was a short-lived affair in the grand scheme of my life. We were married just four years. We met in university. He was two years younger in actual years, but at least a decade younger from a maturity standpoint. We never should have tied the knot in retrospect. My trip down memory lane has been compounded now as I received an "out of the blue" message from his sister yesterday. I had not known what had become of his family and it was so strange that she should find me at this moment when I am staying in this apartment with all it's similarities to the past.
My entire month back in Canada has been a series of endings and closures. Literally. Many of my old reliable shops and services are gone. The mall I always frequented has been renovated beyond recognition. My favourite dress shop in Port Credit - gone! It is as though I was away for far more than three years. Even my old house is completely changed - renovated to the nines. So, in some ways it was comforting to see a few of my old bits of furniture and china finding new life in my daughter's first solo living space.
But back to this chair. This antique Louis XV chair that now finds itself in unfamiliar surroundings is not unlike this old broad sitting gazing out the third floor window of an apartment in Ottawa - a city she does not know well at all. The old chair used to sit upon a proper Persian carpet, one of a pair that flanked the fireplace in the old Montgomery house in Toronto. I had pined for those chairs for months, maybe years, visiting the antique shop where they sat waiting for a new home. I kept popping into that shop hoping for a price reduction, haggling with the owner to no avail and just as I was about to give up on ever owning them, it happened. The shop was closing and everything was being cleared out. I got them for half of the original asking price (even that was steep) and they were what finally completed the look I had been trying to achieve for years. It strikes me as almost comical now. I had been trying to create some crazy mini Versailles in my Etobicoke home and by the time those chairs were plunked down into the living room, I was over it. I wasn't completely over it, but I already knew my tastes were heading in a new direction and my love affair with everything Louis was fizzling out like a spent Canada Day sparkler.
I see this chair now as a turning point in my life. It represents where I have been and who I was or who I was trying to be. I recall how it made me feel like I had arrived somewhere. I was an adult. Only an adult would own such a chair, let alone a pair of them! Was that to be it? Was my journey in life over with the acquisition of those chairs? Had I reached some sort of pinnacle? Had I realized the ultimate furniture dream? Would owning those chairs finally make me ridiculously happy? There may have been a part of me that saw it that way then. I don't know really. I am in such a different place in my life now, although at that time I didn't see that coming either. I cannot even imagine "longing" for a piece of furniture now. My longings have evolved.
This chair reminds me now, just how much.
Monday, March 28, 2016
Engage! Engage!
It Will Be
I used to think
every action
each encounter
any conversation
would repeat
sometime
somewhere
surely
Youthful naivety
worn like a shroud
Surely became
maybe
or... likely
the thinning shroud
of mid-life
But time
does not heed
snooze buttons
and pressing pause
is impossible
So now
I don't think.
I know.
every action
each encounter
any conversation
could be the last
as my shroud
in near tatters
warns
Could
has turned to...will
when every action
each encounter
any conversation
will be remembered
as the last
by someone
not me
The threads of the shroud
hover, cloud-like
beneath my feet
carrying me now
constant reminders
Engage!
Engage!
they cry
in every action
each encounter
any conversation
Like it will be
the last.
Labels:
contemplation,
Life's journey,
living fully,
poetry
Friday, October 30, 2015
Opening Pandora's Box
An opal ring flanked with two diamond chips. A silver palm tree charm. A vintage ivory necklace. A ruby and diamond bumble bee pin. A cabochon amethyst and diamond ring. Tiffany boxes filled with silver x's and o's.
Jewelry I don't wear anymore.
Jewelry that marks my relationship journey.
As I sifted through these remnants of my past last night, it took me to times and places of joy and sadness that I had not visited in awhile. These are bittersweet time travels. Recollections of happy times intertwined with heavy emotional decisions and conversations with the men who were significant in my life. Some, more so than others.
None of the jewelry worked for me anymore. Some looked dull, some ill-fitting, some I once found beautiful, but now did not suit my tastes. I inspected each piece and recalled the moment I received it and how I felt when I wore it, before moving on to the next and the next and the next. There was a heaviness in my heart as I worked my way through this box that held these symbolic markers of my life's journey thus far.
At the time, each piece was meaningful to me. Now, each piece is still meaningful, but in a different way. They are reminders of who I was and where I have been and times of celebration that I cherished before now. As my life has changed and I have moved on, these remnants of past relationships remain. But they remain tucked away in a box, in a safe, with the bits of me that wore them then. I can't get rid of them. I don't really want to get rid of them. It would be like casting parts of myself away and even the parts that failed to succeed in love are some of the many bits that make me who I am today.
The woman that I am today is an accumulation of all those chunks of gold and silver and diamonds and gemstones that rest quietly in that box, influencing my choices and reminding me that I can and have gone on without them.
Even though they are locked away, I can always see them.
And I am grateful to have them.
Jewelry I don't wear anymore.
Jewelry that marks my relationship journey.
As I sifted through these remnants of my past last night, it took me to times and places of joy and sadness that I had not visited in awhile. These are bittersweet time travels. Recollections of happy times intertwined with heavy emotional decisions and conversations with the men who were significant in my life. Some, more so than others.
None of the jewelry worked for me anymore. Some looked dull, some ill-fitting, some I once found beautiful, but now did not suit my tastes. I inspected each piece and recalled the moment I received it and how I felt when I wore it, before moving on to the next and the next and the next. There was a heaviness in my heart as I worked my way through this box that held these symbolic markers of my life's journey thus far.
At the time, each piece was meaningful to me. Now, each piece is still meaningful, but in a different way. They are reminders of who I was and where I have been and times of celebration that I cherished before now. As my life has changed and I have moved on, these remnants of past relationships remain. But they remain tucked away in a box, in a safe, with the bits of me that wore them then. I can't get rid of them. I don't really want to get rid of them. It would be like casting parts of myself away and even the parts that failed to succeed in love are some of the many bits that make me who I am today.
The woman that I am today is an accumulation of all those chunks of gold and silver and diamonds and gemstones that rest quietly in that box, influencing my choices and reminding me that I can and have gone on without them.
Even though they are locked away, I can always see them.
And I am grateful to have them.
Labels:
introspection,
Life's journey,
memories
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