A Backward Glance

Just because I've been away from this blog for the past few weeks, kids, doesn't mean I haven't been busy! I've been meeting with a number of staffing agencies of late, looking for their assist in getting my foot and tuchis in the door. One new, local firm that looks like an especially nice prospect (name withheld to stave off the attorneys) is based in Germany… where until just a few years ago I had (dual) citizenship. We'll see.

I did detour unneedfully a few days into my belly-button. Friend Spartacus caught me in the act, paused a moment while herding goats around the neighbors' yards to nudge me. Heh; he used his still-polished USAF-issue jump boots to kick in the door just before knocking, and made sure all was well. He lugs what might well be a pair of 13 double-E's (compared to my 8D penny loafers), so his inquiries generally receive prompt and courteous response.

Nothing major is amiss, folks! I'd just turned from the blogging for a bit to plow into mass-mailing my résumé around the staffing agencies and larger firms, plus to get some more order on household stuff needing attention. The belly-button part, though, was my taking a bit long in assessing the occasionally errant academic, career, and personal moves I've made over the last few decades. I do need to keep aimed forward a bit better; the weekends may well be better for looking back and plotting new courses.

But speaking of milestones: Yesterday would have been our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, had the good wife and I not lost the stars in our youthful eyes and divorced just three years in. As a young gal – not even quite out of her teens when we married – my wife was utterly beautiful:

Beej and Babe: the sweet good wife, way back when (1984), and baby Shellie.

…a sweet gentle spirit; a slim, lean figure; lovely, dark, thick waist-length hair; easy laugh and smile. At just over five feet tall in size-one jeans, she was a dream, and could make me howl and whimper with the most innocent of glances.

And innocent we both were, of course. We fell hard for each other at a very vulnerable stage in our lives, stepping into our marriage with hopes, dreams, and sweetness… none of which, come the tough times, were enough to sustain it all – even with all the motivation a toddler ought to've brought us. We really did try, very hard, in our four years together, beginning to end, not giving up easily (in fact, I threw in the proverbial towel first).

Time since has been much kinder to her figure than to mine (our daughter says that Mom still can wear her Ones), and the hurt she and I both weathered then (and since) shows only in her eyes, sometimes. She's done okay, thank God: remarried, had two more daughters – and any bitterness left over from the legal battles has long since evaporated.

We all wonder and vow over what we'd have done Then, knowing Now, and I'm no exception. A little less stupidity and inflexibility on my part back then, and we'd have been drinking toasts (or at least buttering them!) together in our name yesterday.

That's okay; it took the hurt and mistakes to bring me, and her, and our lovely daughter, here today, in our own homes.

Let me raise a metaphorical glass (I still have one from the prom we went to!): here's to you, Beej. Cheers!