Progress Report or I Promise I'm Not Hiding Under the Bed

Art Museum in San Angelo, Texas

Last night was San Angelo’s third Thursday Art Walk. I really, really wanted to go, but I did not want to go by myself. My husband’s work schedule is such that I never know when he will walk through the door in the evening. After thirty-two years of marriage I’ve gotten used to being fairly flexible when it comes to planning and I’ve never shied away from going out on my own. But circumstances feel different in a new town where I don’t yet have friends I can count on seeing when I solo.

I made myself a deal: If my husband didn’t get home in time to go on the Art Walk I would stay in and have a glass of wine with Dr. Sheldon Cooper (Big Bang Theory) instead. Fortunately, I was spared my virtual date and had the pleasure of a real date with my spouse.

Our first stop was a new studio, Art in Uncommon Places, where I had the pleasure of meeting the owners. These two women are literally changing the face of San Angelo with their creativity. I got to see a mosaic mural in progress that will soon adorn one of the bridges near the Concho River. I also learned of other public art installations planned for their work. Being in their studio, talking to them, inspired in me such a rush of creativity I am inspired to get back to work on my own projects.

At another stop we enjoyed a glass of wine and listened to live music. While there I met one of the owners of the wine bar, eavesdropped on a conversation about a yoga studio, and realized I had met the performing singer the day before while in line at Office Depot (one of the joys of living in a small town).

Our last stop of the evening was the cosmic culmination of the night. At a gallery/wine bar (yes, another wine bar) with live music and open mike night, we enjoyed a glass of our favorite local wine (Christoval Vineyards Tempranillo) and listened to a very talented bar patron sing songs by Paul Simon, The Beatles, and Neil Young. Then the stars aligned and who should come into the bar? The singer from the previous bar and the yoga conversation woman. We enjoyed more dialogue and discovered we all live in the same neighborhood and have similar interests.

I’m meeting people. I’m not hiding under the bed

Apologies to Dr. Sheldon Cooper for standing him up.

Home

So here I am, back in my new town trying to get on a schedule after a month and a half away. I didn’t really have an opportunity to settle in to my new home before I left. The house is a mess, not even fully unpacked from the move (or even my trip). There are many remodeling and renovation projects yet to do. I still need to learn my way around town. I still need to meet the neighbors. I still need to make some friends. I want to find a place to volunteer, to exercise, to get my nails done, to shop. The dogs need a vet and I need a housekeeper and a contractor. If I let myself think about it all I get a little overwhelmed.

Perhaps I should focus on the positives. I’m here. I’m reunited with the man I can’t stand to be away from after living apart for over a year. I have a doctor, a dentist, a pharmacy and a drycleaner. I found someone to cut my hair. I met some wonderful women and hopefully new friends in the extended learning class. I took the extended learning class. I have affiliated with my local political party. I joined the museum. I discovered the river walk. I went to a wine tasting at an awesome wine bar. I found a great place to listen to live music. I found a place to have a glass of wine at four o’clock in the afternoon while contemplating buying art. I’ve eaten at several really good restaurants. I met another newcomer and we’ve enjoyed several outings. I learned about The Chicken Farm Art Center and attended one of their first Saturday events. I went on the third Thursday art walk in November. I’ve had houseguests twice. I’ve gone to garage sales and estate sales and antiques stores. I went to the mall. I have a workable home office. I guess I’m doing okay.

After hearing that I had signed up for an evening class at the local university one of my best friends commented that if she were me she probably wouldn’t have left the house yet. That comment brought on thoughts of how much easier it would be to just hide under the bed all day or sit on the couch and watch bad reality television on Bravo until my husband came home from work and announced that this move was just a joke and we were going home. But I am here and this will work. No more “Housewives of Anywhere” marathons, no more episodes of “Hoarders,” no more hiding under the bed. I’ve got things to do, people to meet, and a housekeeper to find.

Metamorphosis

I went to New York on December first for the arrival of my first grandchild. She was due on the fifth, but the little sweetheart made her own schedule (and has been doing so since) not arriving until two weeks later, opting to share her father’s birthday. My trip was scheduled for the entire month of December, giving me what I thought would be almost a month with the precious child. I had a glorious time with my daughter and son-in-law while waiting, but I wanted as much grandmother time as possible. Fortunately, the owner of the apartment I was sub-letting agreed to two more weeks.

Everyone told me having a grandchild would be a life changing experience and I thought they were exaggerating. Sure, I was excited to have a grandchild, but life changing, really? Yes, really!

From the moment I walked into my daughter’s hospital room and saw her holding her daughter I was changed. I held my granddaughter and with tears streaming down my cheeks and splashing onto her I realized that this little girl and I are going to have quite a time over the next several decades. With her miniature face looking inquisitively at me we formed a bond, I swear we did. I will always be there for her, no matter the miles between New York and Texas that separate us.

It is said that on one’s deathbed your life flashes before you. At my granddaughter’s birth I saw my life and her life before me. I saw long walks on the beach searching for perfect sand dollars. I saw over-priced frilly dresses and tears at airports and reading Anne of Green Gables and hugs and kisses and letters and phone calls. (Or texting or skyping or whatever technology brings us in the years to follow.) Mostly I saw love, an overwhelming, all consuming, my-life-really-won’t-be-the-same-ever-again love.

And then, way before I was ready, forty-five days passed and I had to board a plane for home. My heart broke to leave my little New York family. My heart broke to leave my granddaughter. I’ll see her in two months and we will get to know each other all over again, and continue to make memories in this new love affair I have embarked on. It is life changing – really, truly.