Today I drove back to the cape, after staying one extra day in NY. I left at 9 am and my husband will follow me this evening. Arriving home, after being gone for a week, there was no food so the store was first in the agenda. I had to hurry to Stop N Shop to for cheap chicken Friday. A nice thing happened on the way. I was not really looking forward to the cheap chickens tonight when I remembered I had a dinner date with a friend. No chickens for me!
My writer friend, Diane, who lives off cape was having an artist’s date with herself in my town today and we had arranged to meet in the tavern part of the Dan’l Webster Inn. This quaint establishment is straight out of Currier N’ Ives. I drive by it all the time and never pay real attention to it, so I was glad she picked it for our dinner tonight.
After depositing the chickens safely at home, I met Diane at the Inn, and while waiting for my husband to arrive, we had a great seafood dinner and an even better visit over wine and coffee. As Diane was telling me about her lovely day visiting my town, seeing things I never seemed to see as I run my daily errands, and wishing she could live here on cape, it suddenly hit me over the head as we were leaving, how lucky I was to live here.
On the way out of the Inn I saw the amazing historical decor for the first time. (On the way in I just brushed past it all) We said goodbye in the parking lot, I pulled out onto Main St and made my way home taking note of how beautiful my town was lit up on this gorgeous fall evening. (Normally I’d be looking for my bottle of water and deciding what music to listen to, while only paying attention to the road in front of me) Tonight I kept the radio off and just took in the businesses along 6A decorated and lit up for fall and thought about how complacent I’ve become about living in this tourist town. I remember the days when my husband and I used to wish, like Diane, that we could live here. I reminisced about the tears I’d cry as we drove over the bridge to move back to NY every Labor Day. I used to dream about the days I now live. When I drive back here from NY, like I did today, it’s driving home, instead of coming for a few weeks of respite by the sea. How have I come to forget that which I pass by everyday?
Maybe when the novelty wears off, and the town becomes as familiar as my old comfy beach sweatshirt, it has finally become home. I may not take note of my surroundings as I did tonight, everyday, but I know it’s there. I like it that my tiny post office, the flower shop, Amari’s Restaurant, Lavender Moon and Mrs. Mugs are there every day as I go to yoga – even though I don’t take special note of them. I might not make it down to the beach everyday, but I like knowing it’s there – within walking distance. I guess I do wear my town like a comfy sweatshirt and I like that, too.
Listening – tonight the message was in the words of a friend. Prayer – gratitude and thanks for that which is comfy, familiar, and home. No begging, no asking, no pleading, no suggesting, – just listening and hearing the message loud and clear – instead of asking for more, be grateful for that which is already there.
And so, as another day goes by, I settle deeper into this listening, and…I have written.
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