What’s Going to Set You Free?

Editor’s Note: Today’s piece by SeattlePolyChick originally published Aug. 5; yet somehow for me it resonates with the symbolic end of summer occurring this weekend in the U.S. Her posts appear on her own blog, plus over at lifeontheswingset.com. — Amanda

By SeattlePolyChick

I have an anniversary date coming up and I’m deciding to do things a little differently. August 10th is the day Hubby and I married, and the day my father died (not in the same year). Hubby and I used to celebrate both the day we met (July 17th) and our wedding anniversary. My dad dying that day made it a little bittersweet.

Last year Hubby and I talked for a long time, crying a little, but not really getting angry, just talking. He’d asked the month before for a divorce and it was just us talking as people, which was rare those days with all the hurt and anger and such.

We got off the phone and I wrote about all the things we’d talked about. I wanted to remember.

I cried afterward for my dad and my marriage and then pulled myself together, but it was a hard day. I didn’t want to spend the whole day broken. I pulled out things that belonged to my father and looked at pictures of him, but I hadn’t been ready to do that with Hubby’s stuff. I did that later.

The weirdest part was that I kept thinking about Hubby and hoping he was okay. It hurt that he was hurting and I couldn’t make it better. After everything that was the hardest part.

I just saw on my calendar this date approaching and I’m thinking I’ll do it differently this year. I might have needed to process all that hurt and pain and anger and fear last year, and that had made my father’s death fresher too, thinking how disappointed he’d be. But I’m not there a year later, kind of biding time in a basement and having no idea what to do with myself. My life has moved on and I’m happy. Hubby is happy. I think my daughters are happy. And I just don’t feel the need to wallow or cry or rue the day. I wanna take it back.

I’m going to celebrate and remember the good stuff. I’m going to watch one of the hundreds of movies Hubby and I liked and eat a giant bowl of popcorn for him and enjoy his old drink at Starbucks, the place we met and spent so much happy time. I’m going to work “holy shnikeys” and “mother bitch” into a conversation somewhere and I’m going to smile if I see a man with knock knees. I’ll think of our words “honey bunny” and “punkin” lightly. I might play cribbage if I can find anyone who knows how.

I’ll think of him somewhere maybe riding the motorcycles I brought to his life or thinking about roller derby or any of the things we liked together so much and how he might think of me too with all of the things we shared. Maybe he’ll sing the song he made up for my butt or look at one of the years of poems or letters he wrote to me. Maybe he’ll eat a chocolate orange for me or think about the impressionists or Van Gogh or modern art I loved.

And I’m going to watch the sunset for my dad. My dad LOVED sunsets. He had a thing about trying to make time to make sure he saw them often. He marveled at them and wrote about them a lot. If I can I’ll touch a Harley for him or hug a burly biker and maybe sketch a woman’s ass. (Yeah he was a bit of a letch.) Maybe I’ll go the museum for my father, a thing he loved so much, or look at beautiful art, a passion he gave me, or listen to someone play the guitar and sing like Bob Dylan.

Maybe I’ll make August 10th the day for men who I loved that are no longer in my life and to whom I am grateful. It had been two steps forward and two back for a while, but lately it’s just been mostly peaceful. I have to admit my life was irretrievably shaped by these two men, my father with my childhood and Hubby with most of our adult lives together. You just can’t spend that amount of time loving someone and turn it off like a light. I’ve decided this August 10th will be a good thing if I can make it so.

Hubby had a tattoo on his ankle that said “what’s gonna set you free?”. I always loved that tattoo. I still think I might get it myself someday, maybe with an anchor with a broken chain. There’s a lot of answers to that. Time is a good one. I’m set free by time and forgiveness and living and love. I’m set free by the choices I make and what I decide to keep and carry.

I think *I* set me free.

__________

Oh. Wow. I looked up the lyrics to the song that inspired Hubby’s tattoo. How perfect.

__________

Beastie Boys — Gratitude

Good times gone and you missed them
What’s gone wrong in your system
Things they bounce like a Spalding
What’d you think? Did you miss your calling?
It’s so free, this kind of feeling
It’s like life, it’s so appealing
When you’ve got so much to say
It’s called gratitude and that’s right
Good times gone but you feed it
Hate’s grown strong, you feel you need it
Just one thing, do you know
What you think that the world owes you
What’s gonna set you free?
Look inside and you’ll see
When you’ve got so much to say
It’s called gratitude and that’s right