I won’t forget the phone call this morning. I will hear the words again and again for many years to come. I won’t forget feeling how I discovered a new definition of betrayal–at least in my reality. I won’t forget trying to keep myself together as I took myself to Starbucks more for the distraction than the coffee.
I won’t forget this day, for ever and ever. But as with most turning-point, life-altering moments, everyday life goes on in spite of one’s inner shock and pain. Pretty soon, time is no longer suspended and it is later that afternoon. The work is done and the rain isn’t happening and a run for miles and miles is finally possible.
Life’s chores still beckon. Measure the detergent, shove in the quarters, meet a friend for a drink while the double rinse cycle times out. Talk, don’t force the laughter, make sure not to cry.
Two texts come in from my dance partner. I hardly feel like dancing.
The lawyer calls, too, on this day of all days that I don’t want to talk to anyone except those closest to me. But I answer his call, because on a day I will never forget, the day is almost over, and the surreal notion of his actually contacting me on this very day shakes me out of my darkness. On the day I wanted to run screaming to anyplace on the planet that would allow me to escape myself, I listen and smile as he reads sections of his soon-to-be heard brief, “Because as a writer, I thought you’d appreciate the argument.” And he is right, on this God-awful day.
The details of this day, the reasons why, the lessons learned–each will stay with me forever, even as I leave them unwritten. Tomorrow will be better. Tonight already is. The truth is, I am incredibly lucky and fortunate. I can move on.
But I will never forget the day my beach party ended and my grown-up life on the ocean hurtled forward.