It’s been a rough week. It included catching a cold and hearing my dad say the words, “How do you think I feel? My daughter is 38 and doesn’t have her life together?” Huh? What? Prior to this statement, I wasn’t aware that my life was somehow not together? Improvisational at times, sure. Perhaps a bit off-the-cuff, but never not together. (Granted I had called him self-absorbed before he made this statement, but still…)
So I want to take a moment and thank Liam for being there; for making homemade pasta and meatballs this week. We’ve covered some rough terrain during our time together. But as bumpy as it has been we have come through things jointly, with just a few bruises.
Liam and I met while I was visiting friends in New York. I lived in Oakland, CA at the time, and was considering relocating back to New York. It was fall. He was cute. But not much like the men I usually went for (short-ish, sardonic, dark-haired). He, by contrast, was 6’5”, sandy-blonde, somewhat Viking like, and he talked too much.
After I returned to California a chronic, Instant Messaging love affair began. Trying to think of something to say, I said, “Let’s see . . . Can you tell me how to pick ripe fruit? That could be useful.”
He replied, “Ripe fruit is easy to pick, because it’s ripe. Just grasp it lightly and give a slight tug.”
“If it wants to be picked it will come with you freely.”
“If it’s not ready it won’t let go of the tree.”
And that’s pretty much the way it happened. We both came along freely needing only a slight tug. Part of having your life together is being able to recognize the moment.
Love the metaphor – very romantic! And, my gosh, has your dad noticed that you’re a librarian in your day job? Hello. That’s settled.