This trip back home has been quite heavy for me. It’s been a constant reminder of what has been lost. I’ve had unexpected moments of pain. Unexpected moments of choking back tears. Moments like the one in which I walked in to my sister’s laundry room only to see the washer and dryer I sold her when we moved. So much emotion filled me when I set eyes on them. I clearly loved those workhorses so much that I had visions of bowing down and worshiping them, giving them the reverence they so boldly deserve. I choked back tears when I saw the little wooden chairs that used to sit so sweetly beside our pool, when I fed grapes to J’s chicken, Missy, and remembered all the nights he snuggled with her and doted on her. Tears flowed freely when I could vividly see the twins as toddlers playing at the sand and water table, when I recalled the teeny tiny whisper of S’s voice as he climbed around the swingset repeating his mantra, “I can do it. I can do it.”
It’s the sinking moment when I finally decided that it’s time to sell my wedding ring because diamonds are a luxury. So a family member took it to get it appraised for me. The learning to let go of ‘things’ that clearly is still necessary. I haven’t had the strength to drive by the home that houses so many of our wonderful memories. Too many lost moments to carry. I’ve grieved for the millionth time when I’ve been surrounded by people who love me and love my boys. People from their former school. Family. Friends that we love as deeply as family. I’ve felt physically ill, pulling over to wretch, when I’ve driven past the places that sent our little cozy, comfortable world in a tailspin. So many painful moments. So much more growth to be had.
Yesterday, the final kick in the gut. The last stone to be thrown. A sucker punch so hard it barely left room for me to breathe. Hearing of changes at the former employer that would’ve been our changes. The stock we lost and what it would’ve been worth today. All the could-of-beens greedily taunting me. The reminder of how quickly life changes. The reminder that you can live 99.9% of your life being respected, admired, and good (for lack of a better word). But lose yourself for that .1% and it can cost you everything that made your life comfortable. In two minutes of misplaced emotion, all the security you have spent the last fifteen years working to achieve, is gone. A million dollars instantly vanished. Your home lost. Your future damaged. Eternally marred.
Those moments. Those simple momentary lapses in judgement.
The moment you decide to have an affair (even after decades of fidelity). That single moment will cost you everything that is important. Woooooshhh…life has changed.
That moment when you take a risk and choose passion over responsibility. You skip the contraception. Wooooshhh….life has permanently changed.
That moment when you decide to take just one hit but quickly discover one hit is not enough. Woooooshhhh…life has changed.
The moment you shoot off a quick text while driving and don’t see that red light. That moment leaves you without a redeeming moment if it leaves you with any moments at all. Wooooshhhhh….life has changed.
Our lives consist of countless moments. Choose poorly for just one of those moments and all has changed. Everything changed. Everything.
It appears that we must choose all our moments wisely. Always present. Always aware.
The consequences are too large to be anything other than that.
My awareness is not always present. But today it is. Today I can understand the truth and the truth is this:
While the penalty for our 2 minute moment has been hefty, I still have this moment. This very one. And this moment is filled with more than money. More than security. More than a comfortable future. This moment is filled with love. And for that reason alone, I still have everything.