Act II

We’re finally alone.

You, me, and everyone else who come here for…well, whatever they come here for.

As you can imagine, it’s been a busy past few weeks with life returning to normal-ish.

Although I’m currently on a break from both work and parenting, so I can slow down a little and write.

The Teenager was invited to camp this week with our second family, so while he’s been busy fishing, I am spending my days and nights at Trevor’s.

Conveniently, my surprise days off this week and my son’s camping trip aligned. I admit, it’s nice to be able to wake next to my partner multiple days in a row. Even if both, or one, of us has to work.

But this is about something more.

Sunday was already a significant day. My son decided he wanted to drive to the lake where everyone was camping. Usually he doesn’t offer to be the driver, but he said he needs to do more driving out of town.

And he does.

I was on board with this plan because we left at 7am. Someone else driving that early in the morning sounded like a great idea to me. Before hitting the highway, though, my son stopped for a piece of breakfast pizza at the local gas station. He even bought me a slice. This gesture may seem small and insignificant- I can assure you, it was not.

The Teenager doesn’t always do little things like that for me. I didn’t make a big deal out of it, though, but it made my mama heart swell.

Our trip was off to a great start.

The man child and I made it to the state park in one piece- a testimony to his driving skills. We arrived a bit earlier than anticipated. But it was alright. More time to spend with everyone.

Before long, Lou, and her partner, BJ, showed up to join all of us.

Lou is one of my bests. She has been in our lives for 10 very entertaining and fun filled years now. Long enough that my son sees her as his second mom.

It’s her parents The Teenager has been staying with. They’ve adopted us into their family, which is one of the greatest gifts I could ever ask for.

We sat around in our camping chairs, under the grey Kansas sky, catching up. It had been at least a month since all of us were together in one place.

Eventually, my son could no longer resist the temptation of the water (or he was tired of sitting around listening to the chit chat) and headed to the lake with his fishing pole and tackle box. Lou had me join her in her parents’ camper to make coffee for everyone.

It gave us an opportunity to chit chat one on one.

Once the coffee was ready, we began passing out mugs. The Teenager had also requested a cup, so Lou and I followed the trail to the shore where he was.

She and I walked the path a little ways, talking about life changes. Unfortunately, it began to sprinkle, forcing us to head back to the camper. Neither one of us cared to be the victim of a sudden torrential downpour.

And it was here, in this moment, walking toward the camper under that grey sky, my best friend of over 10 years at my side, when it smacked me in the face:

Nothing is going to be the same again.

My son is on the cusp of adulthood. We are moving into the farmhouse before school starts. And I have found the man who I will someday marry.

Not to mention Lou has her own life things happening.

From here on out, everything is new. Life felt stagnant for so many years and now, it’s changed for the better. I am in the space I have always dreamt of. Soon I’ll be moving into a new home. Bringing my community of loved ones together. Continuing to watch my son step toward adulthood more and more each day. And I’m in the healthiest relationship I’ve ever had.

My heart is full.

It’s everything I ever wanted. I’d be lying if I didn’t acknowledge there were quite a few plot twists along the way, but they shaped me into this current version of myself.

The version that is happy. Full of joy and healing and more excited than ever to wake up each morning.

Love truly is transformative.

More posts to come.

Published by amberalice

Mother of spoods. Birb lunch lady.

Leave a comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: