Things Work Out Eventually

After my husband passed away in 2000, I struggled to redefine my identity. Starting over at the age of 53 after 28 years of marriage was a stretch for me. In the first place, I didn't want to start over and in the second place I had no clue where to start. So I searched way back into my childhood to discover things I enjoyed. Flipping through our old family photo album, I discovered I had quite the creative spirit! I took dancing lessons, loved figure skating, and totally enjoyed doing art projects with my mother. Over the next several months, I collected art supplies, browsed through craft shops and turned our unfinished exercise room into an art studio.

Standing in the finished space, I thought, "Hmm, something's missing." I realized I needed a work space for my projects, like a small table. In my search, I checked used furniture stores, catalogues and garage sales. No luck. Thinking there had to be a perfect table somewhere, I persevered. One August day, while driving through a local town, a garage sale sign grabbed me and forced the Celica into a hard right turn.

Strolling up to the garage, I spied an adorable old drop-leaf table. Realizing this was the perfect addition to my art studio, I decided to buy it. Unfortunately, I couldn't get it in my car. I really wanted that table, so I paid her the $20.00 for it and told her I'd pick it up later.

Living alone in a rural area, I had been considering buying an old used truck to haul brush and miscellaneous items around. As luck would have it, the local Chevy dealership was having a sale. I parked the Celica in front of the showroom and sitting in the parking lot was a small red pickup, just my size! The jovial salesman took me for a quick test drive, the next thing I knew I was writing out a check!

On Monday, sitting behind the wheel of my truck, I drove to the elderly couples house to pick up my table. The woman's husband greeted me with a friendly, small-town "hello." I told him I came to pick up the table, but needed help loading it in the truck. He smiled, "No problem. I'll unscrew the legs and load her up."

Unscrew the legs? The legs come off? How did I not know that? I realized the the "perfect table" would have fit into the back of the Celica, no problem! As I drove home with the table pieces in the truck bed, I felt a surge of anger at myself for the stupid mistake, but at the same time I felt a sense of freedom and independence.

Buying the truck, was probably not the best decision I ever made, but during the years I spent alone, the truck and I bonded as we hauled furniture, gardening supplies and other assorted loads together. Sometimes, it's tough to make decisions alone. Don't beat yourself up,

eventually most things work out! I still have that little table. :)

Read more about the journey of rebuilding my life in my memoir, Twenty-Eight Snow Angels: A Widow's Story of Love, Loss and Renewal at http://www.outskirtspress.com/snowangels