Sharp Curve Ahead

It would be nice if life had road signs. Road under construction, slow down. Scenic overlook to the right. Yield to oncoming traffic. Stop. Go. Watch for pedestrians. DEAD END.

My road must definitely be somewhere in the mountains because every other sign seems to read "Sharp Curve Ahead". I rarely even know it until the brakes are squealing and I am fighting to keep the car on the road. And so it is again. Life as I know it has changed.

One year ago today, I wrote the most intense and personal post I had ever written. It was about the journey that had brought me home, home to myself, written in the newness of building my home in Sighisoara, Romania.  Now, ironically enough exactly one year later to the day, I receive an email that my home in Sighisoara as I know it will no longer be as I know it. Hans, while not deciding whether he wishes to continue this relationship or not, has decided he wants to move out of our home (I have been in Dallas for six weeks helping my mother with a situation that is a serious threat to the company). It was a shock, and yet not. Have you ever untangled a huge mess of something – yarn or extension cords or Christmas lights? You lift and separate, unwrap, unwind, and at the very center find it was just one small knot that caused the entire mess? Like a single loose thread in a tapestry, the whole thing can go wrong from just one tiny thread, small but interwoven so firmly that without it, the entire tapestry disintegrates.

When the tapestry was your life, you are left with pieces on the floor, trying to figure out where you went wrong. Should you not have bought it? Was there a chance to mend that one loosened thread and you missed it? Did you choose the wrong tapestry? Should you have seen the loose thread in the first place, or, if you did, and I did, realized it would one day unravel the entire piece? Were you foolish to hope it would hold or could be mended? So many questions as you sit on the floor crying over a pile of bright tangled pieces of thread where a beautiful whole image once existed; letting go of all the dreams of homes you would one day hang it in, children you would pass it on to; facing the reality that the nights you could just sit in amazement at its beauty with a glass of wine after a long hard day had ended; realizing you would never, never ever, see it in its wholeness and beauty again. Never.

I am broken-hearted. Torn asunder. But not disillusioned. I married Hans in my heart when I went there. I gave up my life on the road for a life of stability I deeply wanted and was ready for. I poured my heart and self and time into the home I created for us, far from anything I knew in my own world. It was my deepest desire, my most fervent hope, my fiercely held belief that we would build a life and a home together, that we would find in each other’s arms and hearts the intimacy that we both longed for. His actions, or more accurately, inaction and disregard, have caused me deep, deep pain. And yet, I know it is in this space that we grow, that we learn, that we pull back into ourselves, down to center, deep into the recesses of feeling and emotion, and it is from these deep dark places that we emerge, if we choose, more whole, clearer, self-aware, stronger, and knowing just a little bit more about the tapestry of our lives, a little better prepared to recognize and mend the loose threads within them.

… I guess this is why there are no road signs in life. Because you don’t really know until you are further down the way whether you were in a sharp curve or a dead end. And the truth is, you get to choose.

Comments

[Stephen]

Hey there. Still reading your writings (Babbling Brooks are curious places), but a curious other thing occurred today. And, as is my want I will scew it to fit into your writing reality so I feel like at some point I made a connection with another point, or, person (possibly you).
Anyway, I was on facebook playing attack, and an anonymous person, Margaret, asked if my sister is Sherry Huckerby(my surname is spelt this way), and I tentatively said maybe. She responded that she met her in Madrid. Well blow me down my sister has not been on an aeroplane let alone over or even on water. So I was mightily enthused by the possibility and sought more info.
In the end Margaret realised the surname was spelt differently and there was no relationship. But she told me about your website name and confusing the name with the dreams of Elysium I thought, well, why not, maybe you are some kind of poet, and she also mentioned something about couches (the seat of the world) oh, and she mentioned you were beautiful; I always doubt other peoples perceptions of beauty as any sane person should. So here I appear.
Part 3. To scew the point in someway: the people and events in your life are the constructors of signposts... and to deny the sign is to deny...
Of course I think this train of thought goes quite deep to the notion of the sub-conscious (such a silly notion really).
So, to conclude that life is actually about choice, is to 'resign' your original thought... you cannot escape sign posts... see, they just change (at unexpected and expected moments)!
Cheers
S.

[j]

All interesting roads have curves; sometimes they are fun- sometimes they are scary. They key is to pay attention, breathe deeply, and know how to drive. If so, there will be more straight-aways, more pretty vistas, and still more curves.
j

[Karin]

Dearest Sherry,
I spent my lunch hour today crying, over missed road signs, as you call them, So when I read your post, it was like an echo and a sign forwards at the same time. Your are so strong and whole in your weakness and pain. And joy. Thank you.
Love,
Karin

[Matthew]

Sherry,

What better to way to procrastinate than by reading your post. My genuine condolences as you mourn the loss and transition forward. I wholly affirm your insights. They're helpful guideposts for me. You're routinely in my thoughts.

Fall brings changes. So it will be with you. I wish you continued resiliency, insight, courage, and unfettered joy and fulfillment. I'll soon send a lengthier post to update you. All my very best--

[Shellen]

I felt that something was amiss . . . the time . . . the air . . . but you seem to be getting all the best stuff possible from the separation, even if you weren't able to get all the best stuff possible from the relationship. Sending love and support for the journey on, whatever's around the next curve.

[Martijn Franken]

Love to read your stories, sadly the aren't always telling what you thought you were going to tell. But I know that you are a good cardriver so you will surely keep your car on the road and will get in more gentle straight roads soon.

[Sherry]

Thanks Roman. Actually I did find what I was looking for, in myself. True love is not about finding the right person, it is about BEING the right person. I know, intellectually, that loving another in any deep, real, intimate way requires loving yourself in the same way. Yet,again and again in our relationship, I ignored my own deepest needs. I spent most of my time wishing and pleading for him to recognize and honor them, as I did his, rather than me standing by them for myself. In this way, I failed to love myself, and that, ultimately, defies intimacy. So I learned, and in learning am another step closer to being the person who can have the intimacy I am looking for. Joy is born of pain and so even in the sadness, there is light. Nevertheless, it sure is nice to have the empathy of others when your heart is breaking. Thank you. :)

[Roman]

I am sad for you - sorry to hear that. I was happy when I read you seemed to have found what you were looking for....

Take care