He started pointing out mothers to me, telling who their children are. Then he says, “If you want to know who anyone is, just ask me.” I informed him I was fine. But, thank you for offering. He goes to a very small school. But, there were a lot of the moms I did not know. There were however teachers and moms that I have known for years. But, it was still a reminder how much things have changed. And, some things have come back around full circle.
I made the same drive at the same time of day that I made for nearly 7 years, this morning. Back before I left my husband. Back before I moved to Abilene. Back before I lost a child. Back before I lost myself.
I am finally starting to pull myself together. And, I don’t mean emotionally. The knee-jerk reaction when getting the divorce was to turn away from anything in my part of my life. Anything to do with the country and farming.
It sounds like I had never had any experience with anything country or western except while married. But, that is not true. I was raised in a fairly eclectic family. My grandfather was a rodeo cowboy and a farm hand. My grandmother grew up picking cotton. And, my other grandparents had chickens and gardens. They farmed, too. I remember going back my grandmother’s family home and meeting the turkeys. It wasn’t pretty. They raised them to sell. They opened the doors to a huge barn full of them. They were eye high to me. Traumatized is not a strong enough word.
Well, anyway, back on track. Back around Christmas, Mr. J (aka my Hubs) bought a pair of cowboy boots. He had been wanting a new pair for a good while and found some her really liked. And, since he is very particular about the style he likes, I told him, “Sure, go ahead.” But, on the inside, I was very uncomfortable. The last time I had shopped for men’s boots was with my ex-husband. And, I try really hard not to compare them. But, it happens. Both good and bad. And, even though I dated many men that wore boots, it was still somehow tied to my first message and awkward. But, I was NOT going to tell him that.
Another thing from when I was married originally was that we raised chickens. I taught first grade one year. It was in the small town where my son still lives. Every year the extension agent would work with the first classes and they incubate and hatch chicks. It was a lot of fun. Except for the last few chicks that just did not make it. Luckily, we found them before the students came in that morning. But, I digress. My children also participated in the activity as first graders. Somewhere along the way, my ex decided that we should get chickens. I gained so much enjoyment from them. I loved gathering eggs and tending to them. Even though I grumbled about it.
Well, recently, friends had mentioned they wanted chickens. And, after some checking, I could have them in town. As long as they aren’t too noisy, I would be good. (Our neighborhood sounds like a zoo as it is. And, it isn’t just our house.) So, 2 batches of chicks and 4 ducklings later, I have come to realize that I really am a bit of a country girl. I even want goats, again and a donkey. Those will require moving, in time.
I have started to separate out what parts of me were trying to be a good wife and what parts were me being genuinely happy. I will take a while. But, I finally feel like I am starting to feel like I am getting my feet underneath me. And, part of reassembling those pieces of me I left scattered everywhere has been finding which pieces are truly mine. And, surprisingly, for me, some of those pieces are from the country.
And, I can finally admit how good those boots look on Mr. J.
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