“But I was there and I am here,

And it’s what I know”

— The Way I Go, Dar Williams

I was standing under a really hot shower tonight. Other than its backing to the beautiful woods that lead to the river, my favorite thing about this little townhouse is the shower in the master bath. There’s a showerhead on both of the walls facing each other and on nights like tonight when there’s a chill in the air, I like to stand inbetween the two streams, the water as hot as I can possibly make it. One stream, with a wide aperture and a delicate spray on my face, the other narrow, focused, pulsating on my back. I stand there feeling the water on me and I think. And I realize what a gift my life is. In my previous life on the cul-de-sac I had all of the big things. Big house, big car, big closet. But now that I live all by myself I have all of the best things: serenity, joy, time. I can live my life at my own speed. And no one can tell me that I’m moving too slowly. I wonder about that old version of myself the one who took care of all of the people around her so well that she began to disappear for lack of care of herself. Then I think about the tomatoes that I grow now, and the salads that I make, doused in olive oil, salt, and lemon. I have everything that I need to bring out the best flavor in life. I live by myself, but I’m not alone. I am surrounded by comforts that I have curated, paintings by and from women I love, soaps and candles that remind me of old friends and former lovers. Books I may never read, but whose nearness make me feel rich. Stories that unfold like mine, the turning of one page at a time.