Life is one grand adventure, and there's no time for being scared.

I knew I had to move.  

I loved the home; the home that wrapped me in love and comfort when I needed it the most.  It called out to me those dark days, and it kept me safe and warm and secure.  The angels who held me up stayed with me here, and helped scare away the sad and lonely thoughts that threatened to weaken me when I needed to be strong.

It did its job.

My heart was healed and Id risen to the surface.  I realized that yes, the house was warm and comforting, but it was a money pit that was keeping me from being financially stable.  I’m still providing support to someone who needs his father, and also to that particular person who shall not be named.

I couldn’t keep it up, and was going to try not to cry about it. 

I was, however, not in a position in September to start looking for a new place to live.  The lease was up at the end of November, and back then I was thinking of other things.  I had just unpacked in a new classroom, and was acclimating myself to a new school, staff and principal.  I was also in a tad bit of pain from The Fall, and was hurting more and more each day.

It was early October when my best friend decided to take matters into her own hands.

“I’ve searched online and in the papers for weeks now, and the only place that looks like it will work for you is on Smith Street.  It’s very close to your new school!  I think it’s small, but it’s worth a look.  Here’s the number- CALL THE GUY!”  She handed me the number and pointed to my phone.

We arranged to meet that weekend, and Sheila joined me. 

It was small, one-story, but it was adorable.  We walked through the place in about a minute, all the while listening to its amenities from the manager, Stan.

I smiled and nodded as I listened to him list all the pros about the place, and felt a bit of déjà vu.

“Stan? You’re voice sounds very familiar.”

He smiled, “Well, I work for Jones and Son Oil Company.”

My eyes widened as I realized who he was.  “Stan!  I’m the woman out on Lemon Road who called you every other month last year when I ran out of oil!  You helped me out all the time!  You were great!!”

He looked at me.  “And you are the one who made a promise to me about paying that huge oil bill.  And you KEPT your promise, and are all paid up!  You did what you said you would do.”

I secretly thanked God that moment, because I had received a check for my longevity pay from school two weeks before and had used it to pay THAT oil bill.  I wanted to, oh, pay for groceries or other things, but decided that the oil bill needed to be paid off.  At that moment I figured out that an angel had nudged me in the right direction.

“Also,” Stan said, “You share the laundry room with the lady who lives in the other half of the house.  You might know her, because she works at Smith and Wesson Elementary.  Her name is Sharon.”

Oh. My God. 

Sharon was the paraprofessional who worked in the library who had also recently gone through a divorce. We had given each other strength and comfort, sharing coffee, hugs and conversations in school over the last several years.

Sheila looked at me in shock.  “That’s it, vodka.  This was meant to be.”

I looked at Stan, shook his hand and said, “If you are good with me, then I am certainly interested in living here. It seems my guardian angels have made my decision for me.”

 

So now, on this Thanksgiving weekend, I will take the rest of my boxes, my furniture, my girls and my heart and prepare myself for this next great adventure.   With so many angels looking out for me, I can’t possibly allow myself to be scared. 

(Besides, I have a 6’6” angel carrying those boxes, and holding my hand each step of the way.  Ain’t life grand?)