Tuesday, April 04, 2006

signs along the way

it was dark, we were exhausted, then i saw it dimly and stared until i could make out the image. it was a clean line drawing of this image:

that is quite a sign, if you ask me: st. michael trampling satan. the freeway in tenessee was named st. michel (or michael, can't recall). and the picture was illuminated. it felt very much like my passing from death to life.

leaving a love's truckstop in wrytheville, tn, i spotted a copper. but not the kind of copper you're used to me spotting. this one was a small, snoutnosed butterfly. it was lying side down on the asphalt. i picked it up. a hitchhiker who rode on my shirt and died at 6:20 pm in my hand. he had been stepped on. his wings broken beyond repair, his proboscis permanently curled around bulbous eye.


so here we are, in the promised land. things still don't go together easily without directions (she said after taking apart and putting back together a kitchen cart no less than three times). terribly bad music here. i think someone stuck this city in a timewarp, 80s favorites are all that play, plus rap, to which i'm uninclined, and something else i wouldn't listen to.

a couple things i've learned: they didn't have many electronics or large beds/furniture in the 1940s when they built this house. the only outlet in the bathroom is in the cupboard (go figure). even in paradise, one needs friends. i am grateful for the send off my friends gave me. i've yet to truly grieve the removal from them. but i'm nearing the point where i can stop pushing to get this move accomplished and tending to endless details--though there a still a great many to deal with. my husband is pleased at his job, which is more of a blessing than you can imagine. there are lots of kids in the neighborhood. i've got a writing turret, like the great mary demuth. now if only i could get my computer hooked up in there. it overlooks the treelined street, has a door so i can shut out the world and write. and best of all, God is in this move. i can feel it. though i am too tired to do much right now, soon, my house will again be in order.

peace. thanks for coming with me on this adventure.

3 comments:

Mary DeMuth said...

It's hard for me to believe you're not in Texas anymore!

I'm so glad you have your own turret! Every writer (and princess) should have one.

Blessings on your transition!

siouxsiepoet said...

the great mary demuth speaks! i am so blessed. thank you mary. i have a slight understanding of your relo now. at least i speak the language, but it is very, very difficult.

suz.

Mary DeMuth said...

Yes indeedy. It is. I wrote an article about transition in marriage. you can access it here:


http://ww2.intouch.org/atf/cf/%7B8BDEA568-C34F-435A-BD92-1004C884B2A0%7D/february06mag.pdf

Go to page 18.
Might be of interest.