Around the table
I walk through the yard to the back door. They are sitting by the field, wine on the table, smiles on faces, "have some wine with us, bring over a chair and a glass." I grin, set my bag down inside and decide to catch up on reading later. The sun is going down over the field and the cicadas get louder. I pull up a chair, a bit nervous to interrupt their conversation, not knowing what I could add or quite why they want me to join. After a brief pause as I walk up, they continue, catching up and sharing moments together in the 80's when their friendship first began. How one is attracted to 'bad boys' and how her first husband was that. How her life would've looked so different if she married the previous boyfriend who was predictable. Said man drove with her to San Francisco one time just to get some fresh bread and then they drove home. "He was too easy," she said. "My entire life would've been boring." The other talks about how when you get older, you reflect on life and your decisions more. They wonder what their kids think of them. If the general theme in their childrens' experiences were 'good'' or 'bad.' They both hope for good. One is a bit nervous to ask. I encourage her to do so. That the conversation could be really beautiful.
I take a deep breath and settle into the moment a bit more. I feel connected to something greater than my 26-year old brain. I'm reminded that life is huge and intricate. Being around my grandma and her best friend remind me of that. At 71 and 72, they tell me that my life is not over, it's really just begun. One looks at me directly in the eyes and says, "if you are making decisions right now that don't seem right, then make another decision; just choose. Their is no right or wrong, there is only difference. It's far better to choose and learn from it and if you learn you don't like it, then choose a new path."
I sit back reflecting on the depth and wisdom of what she just said. She breathes this and knows it. I sigh in relief. I don't quite understand but I settle into this moment in my life a bit more. Maybe I can trust the process. Watching two women who still feel young, are still adjusting to their surroundings, learning about themselves and experiencing new layers of life gives me hope. I sink into my chair a bit more. I have nothing to worry about. There is wisdom in age I look forward to knowing.