I Choose Art

Dear Naive Dark-haired 20-year-old me,

I choose Art. Handsome, dark wavy hair with the curl that adorns his forehead like Superman.

The one I hardly knew. The one who made butterflies dance in my tummy when he shook my hand as I said my name aloud. He answered back, neither of us knowing his last name would soon be mine.

Convenience, no.

It’s true Chad was on the other coast with the cold Atlantic, the less-enchanting Disney World, and a fraction of my heart holding onto familiarity.

The known.

The safe.

He’ll pledge his undying love to you. He’ll offer to drive all the way to you, the inviting Pacific, the Disney park first of its kind, full of magic and wonder, to pack you up and take you to your forever state. Florida.

More promises will follow…

to cook,

to provide,

to adore…

He is sincere. He sounds sincere. But at my age I don’t question if it’s ardor or affection, devotion or desire, lust or longevity…

I’ll live thousands of miles from home, an impossible number to fathom, and looking at a map it may as well be Australia or China or England.

But a woman is supposed to “cleave” to her husband as the Good Book says…Yes. I could do it.

Sunshine and oranges, (which I have in abundance here too),

Cuban food,

safe schools,

a police officer for a husband,

a good name,

his steadfast kin.

Singing, guitar, his brawn, smiles, fun, cerulean eyes, tight jeans, cowboy hats, familiarity,

familiarity,

familiarity,

a young high-school love.

My mind imagines a life in the Sunshine State with Chad.

My heart creates a different scenario.

My feet feel like they’ve been cemented to California’s terra firma.

I choose Art. He becomes a soldier, and you, an Army wife.

Just for a spell.

One girl,

two boys.

Laughter,

tears,

fights,

love,

marriage vows,

always tested and tried…

Loneliness, fulfillment, music, a Cavalry Stetson, great schools, a last name the five of us are proud of.

There are deployments, vacations, growth, little humans, teenage monsters, precious young adults, (and eventually a dog if you can believe it!)

Never say never still rings true.

Singing, silliness, Christmas presents, ardor and affection, devotion and desire, lust and a path to longevity…

Once in a blue moon, I will think of the “what if”…

Just because.

Knowing I could’ve done it. The “Yes,” the ring, the forever with Chad. I love hard. I make things work. I believe in marriage, family, country, the good in the world.

He’s divorced now, my sister shares after a little Facebook hello to classmates from time long long ago. Has a grown daughter from a different woman though. (Was she chosen soon after my phone call ending our invisible future?)

Possibilities…

He could’ve been a country star once upon a time, he posts. Loves his job, still wears a cowboy hat.

I have my Superman. The same wavy hair, more doused than sprinkled, with white strands. Deep wrinkles on the sides of the eyes from desert sun and cold desert winters.

Weathered hands fix my appliances and car, groom the dog, hold me and the kids along with a new addition…a sassy and fun daughter-in-law!

He’s a star in our eyes. An awesome Pops, an even better husband. Loves his job, keeps his Stetson in a box.

I chose Art. And he chose us.

Love, the Wiser Sprinkled-gray 49-year-old me