In the words of Sting, " I keep the faith in my fashion. ". This Rosh Hashanah, I contemplated the past year. I've been carrying a lot of guilt and shame about getting divorced, and how it's impacting my youngest son. I woke up today, having coffee on the river, thinking of the stones I should throw to atone for my failings. Being raised Catholic, guilt is an easy garment for me to wear. I'm happy to share, instead, where my day ended up.
Tonight, on a bike ride home from downtown, in the rain, I found myself rejoicing. I find rain sacred, and today, it brought sweet revelations.
I was wearing the pants I bought last summer for spin class at the gym when I was getting in shape for the Tough Mudder last fall, where I realized that I had no more desire to impress my ex and he had lost all compassion for me. I was riding the bike our oldest son left behind when he joined the army, a bike my ex hated, but I refused to give up last spring, when I knew the end was near, but before I knew about my ex's affair. My bike was decked out with a new bell, lights, and a basket (basket!) that my new love surprised me with.
I used to love bike riding as a child. Five years ago, my ex and I bought the first bike I've owned since I was in middle school, when my mom's boyfriend turned my bike into a guitar. About a year later, my ex upgraded to a $700 mountain bike, but wouldn't fix my flat. My bike lay unused for years as a result, much like our oldest son's did, for the same reason.
Riding my son's bike, tricked out by my new love, in the rain, jumping puddles, this Rosh Hashanah filled me with the joy in knowing that everything is as it should be. To regret anything of the past year, would be to rue today, which I cannot do. Today is the culmination of all my yesterday's, and I wouldn't trade it for the world.
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