Friday, September 01, 2006

Measuring my new time

Today, I feel rather embarrassed about the self-indulgent, over-emotional selfpity of yesterday's post. I am fully aware that many people live with debilitating illnesses, and if my first teenager is playing up, at least he isn't dying of cancer or being enlisted in a war, things that do happen to people. My trouble is I live and believe my emotions too fully. I will be thirty-nine tomorrow. One might have hoped some sort of adulthood would have exhibited by now...

I separated from the father of my children ten years ago. Rather than risk being charged with kidnapping my own children, I returned to Britain to legalise my moving to Finland with them. Although he (ex) had never actually hit me, he used to throw things at me, push me around, shove me into corners and shout into my face, etc. And this was only over minor disagreements while we were married, not over major things such as leaving him and taking the children. He had told me while I was pregnant with the younger he would kill me if I left him, so it is probably understandable I was terrified during the trip ten years ago. In fact, it did drain me so utterly that, in retrospect, it took me at least five years to recover.

On the way back from this trip, in relieved and jubilant mood, from the duty-frees on the plane I bought myself a bottle of perfume (Jean-Paul Gautier, the one shaped like a curvy female torso!) and a watch to measure my new time. I wore the watch for a few years, then forgot it in some drawer or another. Last summer, before moving to Hawai'i, I had the battery replaced and started to use it again - to measure my new time, perhaps. It stopped working in a few months and the leather strap kept going moldy. I brought it back to Finland to leave it here, as it was obvious anything made of leather was pretty useless in the tropics, particularly a stopped watch.

Last night I noticed it was ticking again. It had probably got damp inside and had now dried out. I am wearing it again. It makes me feel safer. I have managed tighter spots than this one.

3 comments:

nmj said...

Happy Happy Birthday tomorrow, Anna MR!!! Please email me your Finland address and I can send you a proper card made of cardboard rather than an e-card. NMJ x

kurt said...

Your (well told) story makes me think of the contradiction at the core of pretty much every ambition: that you have to stop caring. You have to learn to "let go" of the past -- as stupid as that sounds -- so the romantic/emotional energy spent dwelling there can be used to fuel your future, where you do have some control.

(Everything is so easy for ME to say...)

Happy Birthday, Anna, and remember that next year you become ageless like me, just 39 more than once...

Anna MR said...

Thank you to both of you. We went to the local for a few glasses. Wish you could've been there, too.