It was a little over three years ago that I stood with a small select group of colleagues at the main branch of library system that I once worked for. We were there to celebrate the end of a quasi-mandatory 2 point Oh training session, one that purportedly thrust us into the contemporary future and coolness of all things social networky. I found that of all the weekly tasks we had to perform, learn, jump through and analyze that I loved my blogging time the best. For some reason it really appealed to me, allowed for me to share all my thoughts and then play large with images, games and postings from all sorts of souces. Most of all I kept it real, even if that reality strayed off course of the lesson plan.
Once we got past the mandatory programming of the course the blog took off and became a vehicle of my own devising. It was my bully pulpit, my open diary, my house party of thoughts, ideas, dreams and wishes. And, towards the end, a place where I shared an awful lot of thoughts about you.
To the point where my good friend the Snake Lady called me on it. It was then that I shifted over to this place, began to empty out the satchel, used each piece in the bag to tell a story with. I never thought that it would cause me so much grief, that one stray missent post would get me cooked with that old draconian system of mine. But in the end that was okay. I found out the hard way who my friends were and where they dwelled. I went, frankly, crazy, that summer, waiting to find out what sort of punishment these tired old letters from heart would yield.
Well, they turned into a sort of early retirement, a layoff, a summary court martial, what have you. I went into fall optimistic that my chances for gainful employment were good. I started peppered the library world with resumes and then sat back and waited for the offers to come in. Never in my wildest imaginings did I think that my downfall would coincide with the greatest economic downturn since the Great Depression.
So, instead of getting depressed about it I gathered my friends about me, volunteered out in the community and drank a lot of wine, watched a lot of movies and cooked a lot really rich food. It was a merry old time, sometimes bordering on desparation but then that's what road trips were good for. I renewed my relationship with my kids, got to know Boise a bit better and without knowing it began to map out my future here in the Treasure Valley.
It took almost a year and a half but I landed a job here in the Boise proper. I am happy for the challenges that these posts brought into my life, that you helped bring into my life. I think of that one note you sent me a long time ago, asking me to brave like you. At the time I couldn't even imagine it. I tried several variations on the theme of it and now I think I have discovered my own form of grace.
I may not be living with my kids but I am there with them. I may not have you in my life but you color it daily. I may not have landed exactly where I thought I was going to land but in the end I am exactly where I needed to be. When our adventure began almost six years ago Boise was a place where I went to attend a library conference, a region where my in-laws bought a mess of property to rent out and retire with. In the end it was the place where TEO went with the kids on a supposed vacation and in the end enrolled them here in school, instead, just to "try it out".
Now Boise is a place that I am trying out, that, after years of making the drive over the Blues to keep my heart and mind intact, I can now call home. I will be making that drive again to the Puget Sound here in a couple weeks, this time to empty out a basement, to see old friends, to trip a bit of the light fantastic around my old town. But this time, when the car is full and my sights are set on the east, I will be heading home. I am more than happy about it.
This place, these words to you, were once the source of my downfall. But like the phoenix rising, I have risen out of the ashes of doubt, sadness and a hurtful sort of pride. These words, this place, now finds me soaring and I am happy. Happy to have met you, loved you and to left that place where your ghost still dwells.
Peace, my dear M.
Your Wild Half Mexican Boy
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