Sometimes the way life happens is such that if you managed to stumble on it in fiction you would think, "How clever."
Metaphors and so forth. That shit that literature classes are all about. "What did the author mean when he was talking about the roses in his garden being eaten by the slugs?"
Or if you WRITE the fiction and suddenly you see what you've done, you think, "How clever my mind is."
But when it happens in real life you just have to sit back and be amazed.
Well, I am and we all know I am a very simple woman.
Lon and Lis have left to go home and the refrigerator is here. I cleaned the stuff OFF the refrigerator last night around two (and rum HAD been involved as well as coffee) and I cleaned the stuff off the top of the refrigerator this morning and when the very pleasant and professional men from HH Gregg showed up this morning, Lon and Lis did a very fast clean-out of the interior of the refrigerator and what kind of friends will do that? Cheerfully?
God. I love those people.
So I put everything back into the new, shiny white space of coldness and I threw away some stuff from the outside and from the inside and I put a few things in an envelope for my children to deal with when I die and I put a few things up on the new refrigerator. Pictures of me and Mr. Moon, pictures of Owen and Waylon.
And oh yeah, the old phone list which I really need to redo because okay, there are dead people on that list and I don't care what it says, I can't call them any more.
I'll get around to it.
And Lis and I had a serious and tearful heart-to-heart this morning, unburdening ourselves of things we've had inside of us for a long time (not about each other, no, other things) that we really both needed to talk about and we came through it holding hands and talking about how, as you get older, you get to a place where in every situation you have to think, "Is this good for me?" Lis said that if the answer to that question is even, "I'm not sure," she trashes the idea. We've spent years of our lives making ourselves crazy trying to fix things for other people that we have no business fixing and can't anyway. All to no avail whatsoever.
And we talked about how we've let people go in our lives. If you can't trust someone with your heart then they aren't good for you and let 'em go. Let. Them. Go.
Even if sometimes you think back about the good times you shared and you miss them but you know that the relationship isn't good, isn't healthy and you move forward. And how that means you have to really cherish and you have to really nurture the ones whom you keep because they are precious and few.
This all seems so simple but let me tell you- it's not. It takes years to figure this shit out. Well, for some of us. It's not unlike all the stuff we have in our lives that we hang on to for sentimental reasons or because we might need it "someday" or because we paid a lot of money for it or, or, or...
If it's not a functional or beautiful part of our lives, we need to let it go.
And this weekend, from the refrigerator to the gathering last night to my talk with Lis this morning has been an accelerated lesson in all of that.
The people at that table last night and who were on the stage are ALL people I trust my heart with completely. They know me. The real me. And they accept me and they love me and they nurture me and they know I want to do that for all of them.
The purest of the pure. The dearest of the dear.
Well. I wish Mr. Moon and Jason had been there, of course. But that goes without saying.
When Lon and I were walking back from the garden this morning we had our arms around each other and he said, as he always does, "We sure do love you, Mary Moon."
And I said, "Lon, sometimes I forget how much I love you and Lis." Of course I don't really, but in a way I do. I guess because that love seems too good to be real. Because there's a part of me which doesn't believe that people can really love me like that but when I'm around them, it's just too obvious to ignore.
I also told Lon that I felt as if he and Lis had brought me back to myself this weekend. That last night had been a part of that. And it's true. I've called Lis the "cake-baker, sanity-maker" before and I was reminded of that this morning.
As they were pulling out of the yard I was crying, the way I always do when they leave and Lis said, "I wish we could just come back in and make more coffee and plan what we want for dinner."
I said, "I think I have some Kahlua."
Lon asked if he should pull the car back and park it.
"No," I said, waving them on. "Go home. I love you. Go home."
And they did. They left, as they must do, and I came in and set the new refrigerator to rights, and frankly, it looks just like the old one except that it's less cluttered and that's comforting. New things will appear under magnets but I want to make sure that everything which does go up there is something important or beautiful or that I need to be reminded of. It's not that big a deal, though. Not like the people in your life.
No. That's the real, big deal. The people in your life.
And life is short. That phone list is a reminder with the names and numbers of people I've loved whom I can never call again. And the names and numbers of people I probably won't call again, even though I could.
Hell, I could throw that list away because the people I really love and really call, I know their numbers by heart. By heart.
But hey- I' fifty-five. Sometimes a gear gets off track in my brain and I forget things. It's good to have a list to consult when that happens.
It's even better to be with the people you love so that you can remember how much you love them and perhaps even more importantly, how much they love you.
And that's what I've learned this weekend.
And shitfire! It's only Saturday!
Fucking amazing. That's what I say. Fucking amazing.