Why I am here.
September 25, 2005
Filed under:The Number Nine
Written on Friday, posted Sunday morning. Sorry about the delay. Stupid Eagles lost the Grand Final and it was quite a disappointment.
And by “disappointment” I mean, “Boy, did we get drunk.” Heh.
“Kids’ll do that,” she says as I explain that I had an inspiration to write while doing the dishes and have now lost it.
We’ve been cleaning the house today in preparation for having folks over for the Footy Grand Final tomorrow and I had not only the strongest urge to write but also had the words almost all formulated in my head.
As I sat down outside in the evening sun, cracked open a beer, and popped open this laptop, my mind went blank. The 2-year old is playing with a soccer ball and the 4-year old is playing with a jump rope, and I’m still enough of a kid inside that I wanted to play as well… or at least watch happily.
I suppose that it’s not all bad that “kids’ll do that.” I’m not complaining one single bit.
I’d wanted to sit down and write a bit about why I’m here. I’ve gone through my email address book and realized that I’ve sent invitations to read this blog to folks that I haven’t contacted in quite some time. Some of you may or may not know much about what brought me to Australia and I thought I’d take a step to remedy this.
I don’t want to go completely factual and lay out a chronological series of events, nor do I want to go completely romantical and spout the poetic and beautiful story of our love. I think I’d like to write about happiness.
It’s bright and it’s beautiful and it shines like the sun, this happiness, and it is truly the reason that I’m here.
I met someone and I fell in love. Practicalities and logistics were strongly against anything really coming from this though, and emotional baggage and cynicism seemed certain to quell anything that may have possibly kept a shred of hope alive. I took a leap anyway. Undoubtedly the most impulsive and spontaneous thing I’ve ever done with my life.
I flew around the world simply to see what would happen if I did. And I found happiness. And it found me. At the end of one week with her, we were engaged.
And we were both happy. Happier than we’d ever imagined we could be.
I had to leave though, because of laws and rules and the responsibilities I’d created from a life lived before her. She’d have come with me, but for two small children created from a lived life before me.
We parted, and the happiness left us. We hung on to what we could though and, when I returned after two of the worst months of my life, we were married. A small, private, ceremony at the JOP’s office (or the equivalent anyway) that was no less beautiful and wonderful than a big-poofy-dress-with-hundreds-of-guests wedding.
Then, I had to leave again. To finalize the parting of me and my life and it’s responsibilities, and I endured the actual two worst months of my life. The happiness was almost completely gone, but hope and faith never faltered for a second.
Now I am here. Where I truly belong. And we’re happy.
In the time before I left the States, as well as since I’ve started this blog, I’ve heard from a great many people from my life and have been the beneficiary of many wonderful words and wishes. For this I am incredibly grateful.
I started to wonder about something though, and I thought about how I’d feel if someone I knew had told me that they’d done something similar to what I’d done.
I had a great job at a great company. I was making decent money and my path seemed fairly set. I had lots of friends and a dog and a truck and a house and hockey and lots of stuff. I shed my worldly possessions, gave away my dog, quit my job, and moved halfway around the world.
If someone I knew had told me that they were doing this, I’d have, at some point (probably after copious amounts of alcohol) had asked, “Why? Seriously, what the hell are you doing?” (depending on the amount of alcohol, there would probably have been a bit more swearing than that).
I can’t help but think that some of the people I know have burned to ask me this same question.
My answer, as I hope would be the same of anyone else’s, would be simple.
Happiness.
I can spout any combination of words and phrases like completeness, contentment, or in-love, but they simply wouldn’t do this proper justice.
Quite simply, I am happy, truly happy. And for as happy as I am, I have done the same for the most important person in the world to me.
I’ve tried, and I can’t think of a better reason for what I’ve done than that.