Memoirous

 An Unveiling I wish I knew what I didn’t       know up ahead, curving around the bend, straining into the wind, the pavement breaks abruptly, the hillside dropping down down to a ravine. No guard rails and little margin for error into fear, suspense.   We can be anxious for good and bad, everything is unnerving waiting for the other shoe to drop.   Cloud shadows sweep over the sand; the tide is going out, yet there is no end to the rushing of waves, washing over the rocks.   When the fog lifts I see the coast and the lighthouse drumming out a signal “Take Care.” In the distance is the        light.

Making plans, change is in the air Ever since my daughter and her family, the whole reason I’m here in Eugene, moved away, I’ve been trying to decide my next move. It’s hard. I love it out here. The weather, my job, my living situation. The sense of feeling vital and necessary. I hate to leave it. But, yet, I feel as if I’m living a half-life, missing my loved ones. So I’m making lists and figuring out my next step. That’s it, steps. I don’t have the whole map. Not yet. I am just beginning, one foot in front of another. As many of you know, before moving out here, in a van going to the airport with my suitcase, pulling out of the parking space my friend spotted a sign. A hawk on a fence post .  A sign of what I wasn’t sure. I’m looking for signs. My Portland, OR friend invited me to a womans’ conference, Unveiled, taking place at Cascades Camp and Conference Center, Yelm, Washington. My plan is to bus up to Seattle to visit a friend and then hitch a ride to the retr...