Happy Thanksgiving to all and to all a good night!
I love Thanksgiving, but this post isn’t about that. It is about my new best friend. So, I guess it is about Thanksgiving because I’m giving thanks for a wonderful year.
Last year was a little rough on me. I had a divorce, homelessness, an emergency room visit, a car break down, three surgeries, and that’s not even the end of it.Don’t get me wrong, last year was good too, I was a completely different person by the end. Different enough to recognize my beautiful new husband a few days after we met. But I’ll get to that in a minute.
At the beginning of 2016 I wrote a post called, The Greatest Love Story, about how my relationship with men and writing seemed to parallel each other. I thought if I figured one out, the other one would fall into place. Not that I was fighting really hard to figure them out. I felt a little lost with both of them. I don’t know how many times over the years I wanted to get rid of both of them, thinking: “Maybe I’m not really a writer. Maybe I’d be happier alone.”
And yet the love and the writing kept coming back to me. Being single felt like a cop-out. It is too easy to be strong, happy, and independent as an individual, but as a couple, next to a man…I hadn’t yet learned to be strong happy and independent when another person was involved, especially the all-powerful male.
I didn’t know how to be connected but independent; caring without losing myself, agreeable without sacrificing myself. I didn’t know how to be good to myself without stomping on him, or be good to him without losing myself. And besides all that, even if I did figure that out, how would I know if we were compatible? I tended to like everyone, but what would hold up in the long run. I had no idea, but after the roller coaster of last year, I had opened up to magic and miracles, so I was certain I would find everything I was looking for.
Well, my happy marriage miracle did happen. I met and married my husband in 16 days last February. While we were both scared and nervous at first, over the months we have found our way and are happier and more content with each passing day. We have both learned to care for ourselves without steamrolling the other, and care for each other without losing ourselves. It is a beautiful thing. So, there you have it; the man thing is finally figured out.
Now about the writing; as hard as I tried over the years, I couldn’t get it to come out properly, but it also wouldn’t leave me alone. As I navigated the beginnings of my marriage, I was still unable to navigate my writing.
Then a few days ago, another miracle occurred. Several days ago I watched a Woody Allen documentary. He sat down to his desk and talked about his typewriter. He said he had been using that typewriter since he was 19 years old and it would probably outlive him.
I thought about this typewriter, and while I am not one to rush out and try all the writer rituals (because I believe they should come naturally), I remembered typing a book when I was fourteen years old. Even though we had a computer, I went down to my dad’s office and wrote an entire book on that IBM. In comparison, I have written out many books by hand, but when it comes to transcribing them onto the computer, I don’t finish. With the typewriter, I finished.
I stewed over this for a day then ran out and got my own handy dandy typewriter.
My new best friend.