We become what we behold
I’ve been driving around looking at houses and areas that I could move to when the LaLa is sold. I started this process with an open mind, not necessarily an open heart. My first knee jerk reaction was to live elsewhere than the bayou because I didn’t know if I could emotionally pass my house every day and see my lost dream.
Last night, we saw a limo pull up and a bunch of people get out and start taking photos in front of the house. We walked outside to see what was up and it turned out to be guests who had gotten married here in October. Their dream was to get married at her father’s house on the river but when Hurricane Isaac put a crimp in that dream, they looked for an alternative, and now their history is imprinted on the LaLa. Like mine.
I keep trying to reconfigure my mind around letting go of these old dreams, but honestly when I go see other neighborhoods like Marigny and ByWater, I can’t visualize living there. When I look at houses and streets and views, I keep thinking of what my neighbor told me – health and serenity cannot be traded in for a view. And yet I know so well that having gotten up every morning for the last seven years and looked outside at the water and the pelicans soaring by and the people who have graced my porch, I say with confidence that I have sacrificed my health for this dream for the very last time.
2013 is going to be a year of transition, as I move into the next chapter of my life. A chapter yet unwritten, but laden with backstory, and I would like to enter the story gracefully and with eyes wide open.
