Braving the Frontier

Lately, I feel like the heroine of one of those old movies. The ones in which there's a young wife who goes out to the frontier or the old west or some equally remote place with her husband. And then her husband suddenly dies. And there she is, this young widow, out on her own...trying to make her way. Trying to be bolder than she feels. Stronger than she looks. She struggles to survive the winter...or the demise of her farm...or life in a new town... whatever the premise, I feel like that young widow. Forced to go it alone on the rugged terrain of life.

I kind of chuckle to myself when I ponder this. She always puts her boots on and scurries outside, ready to do what she has to do. She always surprises everyone around her. She always learns a lesson about independence/finds love again/changes the town in which she lives.

She always comes out on top.

Today, my good friend Jenn came to visit me for the day. We decided to turn my poem "I Don't Know How to Say Good Bye" into a song. She's a singer/songwriter/musician and Rick's going to be like...humbled...by the finished product. In fact, I can almost hear him saying, "Me? You're going to make a song about...me?"

But I was thinking about the frontier and in my car tonight, after leaving Jenn at the bus station, I said, "It's the soundtrack to the movie, Rick." So it's going to happen.

If there's one thing I've learned in my 29 years and 9 months on this earth, it's that real life is nothing like the movies. It's way more interesting.

So I'll pull my boots on and brave the frontier.