Wild

 Wild sings the bird of the heart in the forests of our lives. 

—Mary Oliver from “Wild, Wild”

When I was getting ready to marry my first husband, I remember sitting with my friend Cathy and telling her I am just meant to live a normal life. I am not to do anything out of the ordinary, anything to rock the boat. When I think of it now, I think she must have thought it was the saddest thing she ever heard. I can only say I was operating on some kind of underlying fear. I couldn't color outside of the lines for whatever the reasons were. 

My wild heart was awoken when I met Jim. As I started to see we were meant for each other, I did feel terribly wild.

It was wild he was 13 years older than me.

It was wild that his oldest son was just five years younger than me.

It was wild that I easily gave up the thought of having children, something I always thought was a given in a "normal" life, and I had a tubal ligation shortly after we were married. I was 31, and no regrets.

It was wild that I decided to start college and become a teacher in my 40s, with his 100% support.

It was wild that we decided one day to move to a warmer climate, and made it happen in about 6 months.

The Mary Oliver poem was about the heart wanting what the heart wants. I knew going in that Jim would be the first one to go, and I'd spend time alone. Knowing that certainly didn't make it any easier losing him on this earthly plane.

But what I'm finding is my wild heart is still awake and alive. I can feel its stirrings. I don't think I'm meant to live an ordinary elder life. What that means, I have no clue. I just know I'm on my way to somewhere unexpected. I also know Jim is forever with me, our wild hearts forever melded together. 

My wild heart

wanted no

other thing

than what

he had to

offer. So

I listened

to whispers

and followed

to where I

am today

forever in

gratitude.