Today I got a half chance to have a deep, meaningful conversation with my person . I say half a chance because it seemed like we were supposed to continue it later. We kept getting side tracked. I wanted to spend time with him, to talk with him. It was lunch time though and the natives were getting restless.
We were talking about the photo reception I am going to speak at tomorrow. among other things. Because of this talk, I have been thinking a great deal about my journey. The journey is ours to travel. No one can travel our journey for us. We have people who travel with us. If you think about it, no one travels our entire journey with us.
My parents journey began before I was born, their individual journeys began before they ever met each other. They have had to sit on the side lines and watch their child endure things they could not at the time understand. They had to watch her grieve the loss of a spouse while they went home together.
My late husbands part in my journey was almost exactly 20 years to the day. My journey continues without him but I have been blessed to have someone else who has their own journey to be in this time and this place with me.
His journey has been different from mine. We walk our own journey. We walk together at times but we are never in the same place at the same time. Some of us have been through stuff and been able to learn to enjoy life again. Some of us are going through stuff right now and wonder if we ever see the sun shine again. If you haven’t been through stuff, you are probably a new born.
The journey we are on was planned out before we were ever born. We have been equipped for this journey and people are placed to join us for a reason. To love us, to teach us, to encourage us, to be there for us and we do all these things for them in return.
I have been lucky enough to have two different men whom I have loved in different ways in my life.
One was the love of my youth. He was the one who showed me how to be loved when I had given up on ever being loved.
The other is a more mature love. We have both been through the stuff. We both have our stories and we both bear bruises and scars. Yet, I love each and every bruise and scar he bears. I wasn’t on that of that part of his journey but it has made him the person that I love now. It has put him in my life at this time. I have told him before that I don’t know how he wound up here but I am surely glad he did. And to be honest, he makes me weak in the knees. He has a James Dean style about him. I have more than once compared him to James Dean.
He came in during the battle part of my journey. He saw the toll that the journey has taken on me. He has seen me cower from life because I didn’t know how to handle it anymore and he reached out a hand and said here, I’ll help you up and I will love you through this. You will be fine. He didn’t say it in those words. He said eight words that he doesn’t even know what they are, nor does he want to know. He saw me in a very different way than I saw myself. I just wonder if he still feels that way. I don’t know and I don’t ask. He has also watched me grow and try new things and attempt to fly.
The journey itself is interesting if you look at it. We all have a journey, how you travel that crooked road, well that is up to you.