Show’s Over Folks. Go Home.
Life imitates art sometimes. At one time or another, we all are tempted to revisit our pasts and reopen old wounds, even when we know we shouldn’t.
A few years ago, I did just that. I went back to my home town where I’d lived for several decades with my husband … that was … until he up and ran away with his old high-school girlfriend (with no warning). I had driven back there out of pure morbid curiosity, even though I knew “that” life was over … never to be resurrected. But we do wax nostalgic sometimes when it’s a slow news day. LOL Thankfully, when we do stupid things … sometimes a Higher Power watches out for us and acts to quickly give us a nudge. This is what happened to me that day.
Ironically and very eerily, as I exited the interstate and neared my old neighborhood, this Tom Petty song began playing on my car stereo. The lyrics jumped out at me, as jarring as the megaphone of a movie director trying to get an errant actor’s attention. It was surreal, the song was precisely narrating where I was and what I was doing.
As I turned onto my old street, I got goose-flesh and the hair on the back of my neck stood straight up as I heard… “Stop walking down my street” … and … “Who do you expect to meet? Don’t come around here no more!”
I knew right away that a Presence (much greater than me) was telling me NOT to romanticize anything about my past, my ex husband, this town, or any of the people it represented. Karma had intervened and I had been graciously set free from a life and a marriage that, as it turned out, been plagued from the start.
Giving an acquiescing “mia-culpa” nod of surrender, I terminated any further indulgence in human curiosity and turned my car around. As I did, my eyes were drawn to the parking lot of a nearby church where several large bouquets of BLACK balloons were being released and had started rising above the roof line.
DOUBLE confirmation that my husband and this town were to be deemed dead to me. I turned off the engine and watched reverently an silently as if I were waiting for a funeral procession to pass. When the last few balloons had drifted out of sight, I restarted the engine and left.
Certain that I had been given two distinct “signs” of confirmation that I was to close the lid on the coffin of nearly 30 years there, I left that city with a much lighter heart. From that day, the hurt and anguish that I felt (having been abandoned with no notice) began to improve steadily and has to this day.
Sometimes when we are living too much in our own heads and/or fall victim to the tug of our hearts when it’s not what’s best for us, we get sent a little extra help.
Many thanks to my guardian angel. Sorry about taking you on that detour. (wink wink)