Hello

“Have a good night, Micaela!” He quickly waved after dropping a brown paper bag on my desk.

A sweet gesture, just like the rest of them, left me in tears. It has amazed me my entire life how frequently I’ve been in the care of strangers instead of the folks you’d expect. I am simply a ward of the Universe. Parents? Checked out when I was 12. The man I’d spent the last 3 years loving? Probably bathing in a pool of his vodka vomit. My employer? Paying me so little, that the contractors they hired were dropping food off for me each night after I cracked a (half) joke that I’d been Dating for Dinner that week.

“Thank you, Shawn!” I called out down the hallway after him, hollering loudly in hopes of disguising the breaks in my voice.

It was 2019. I was 28. Going through what felt like a divorce with the man I’d seen as my entire family. I’d just moved to a little rural town with my 2 cats where I knew no one. This shitty job with an hour-long commute was the only thing that cared if I was dead or alive, and even then- they were about to can me.

o0o

“Good morning!” I called out to clinic staff as I set my laptop bag down. I heard Teresa speaking to someone at the front desk: “I’ll be right back,” she told him. I poked my head above the privacy wall to greet them both. He met my gaze shortly for a smile, then looked away.

Shawn.

I approached the counter: “Hey,” I said softly, “I think we used to work together.”
His eyes lit up with a smile, “Yeah, I was thinking you looked familiar! How long have you been all the way up here, Micaela?”

I was just telling Kalista last week: “It is a universal blessing to share positive updates with the people who witnessed our struggles.”

o0o

I noticed this week I’ve been rushing my commute. Rushing my appointments. Rushing through barn chores. Rushing through cooking. Rushing through baking. Rushing. Rushing. Rushing through this life I used to dream of. Rushing through the things I longed for. Cried for. Begged for. Rushing for what? I’m here, finally. I made it.

The past is such an authentic reminder of the path traveled.

_{Divine timing is never a mistake.}