WE

Something awesome happened this weekend. WE began, at long last, developing our good memories, apart from anger and bitterness... and chemo... or job loss. For the first time, we danced and were merry... and found our first 'spot' that we could call our own.

WE will be able to look back and say, "Hey, remember that time we went down to Rainbow Falls and drank a couple of six packs and danced with the El Salvadorians, and listened to country music?

I couldn't believe it. I was so distraught over the loss of my job. I had to get out of the house. I wanted to go in my car, not his truck... so that I could have some control over where we went, what we did... and what music we listened to, or if we had the air conditioner on, or the windows blowing my hair all across my face, getting in teeny tiny knots, and sticking to my lip gloss. And I would pay for the gas.

I decided to compromise. Since he had agreed to go... and take my car, not his truck... I decided to let him drive. And he drove us to a place I'd never been before, hardly 20 minutes down the road. A quiet little pond, with a man-made dam, and falls that ran down to a trickling stream. Lotsa green grass, and Dragonflies too! There was only one car there, a family fishing. Could we be there? We were allowed? The other half of WE pointed across the road, "There used to be a little bar there. There was a juke box. It was a majical place, to me. I used to hang out there, some 30 years ago." There was nothing left of the site, just a bit of asphalt road.

WE spent some time near the water... and even tried walking a log backwards, across the stream. I felt young again. Then moved on, to follow a sign on the road. We found the bait shop, just across the water and up the hill. It was down home and country. People sitting around, watching a television screen, waiting for the game. The owners had an "on the premises" liscense for drinking... so we could take our beer out on the empty porch, sit in a rocking chair or swing, and drink our six pack of cheap beer. It reminded me of the olden days, when people used to gather round some country store, telling their stories, and drinking their brew. I couldn't believe there was hardly a soul there. And for a dollar, a-piece, we could go and hang around the water, and picnic... or pay five dollars and fish an entire day. We had found a gold mine. How often do you come across a body of water that is not run over with people... or a country store that allows you to sit on the porch and drink the six pack you just bought?

It got even better. We heard a keyboardist was gonna show up, and the other half of WE plays keyboard, too. Awesomeness! The chance to talk music with another musician. We made new friends, to include a small crew of 3 from El Salvador, who were in this country to make a new life... and I saw an entirely different side of the other half of WE... as he embraced others, in loving arms, and one cried tears, from the acceptance that he had not felt before, from those of us, from the USA. The El Salvadorian brought his female friend from the Islands... who struck a cord of note with the other half of WE. After several hours of swilling down beers and crazy dancing, and each parting ways... we find the one from the Islands has a Master's in ceramica... a wonderful connection for the pottery part of WE.

It was a crazy last few days... with one door closing and many more opening... new routes to happiness, friendships, peacefulness, quiteness, and gentleness... new stuff entirely our own.