in transit

In the film, the young heroine is making the crossing from Ireland to New York, and she is seasick and homesick, uncertain about the new life that awaits her. In my life, I am making the crossing from wife to — I don’t know what it is, not widow, not virgin goddess either, I am both but I claim neither, I need to invent the category, just like I invent my clothes — and I, too, have been in vertigo, sick with an ear infection. The disorientation of transition. This morning in the visioning circle I saw myself leaving solid ground, that thing when you’re in the water so deep you can no longer touch bottom, and I saw I was okay as long as I was swimming with my friends. It’s the alone part that really scares me, and so that is what the universe has brought me. See, you can handle this one too. I changed twice to arrive at this outfit. I was looking for something warmer. I just finished the fleshy pink dress, so I ironed the new seams before I put it on, finding comfort in the warmth of the fabric, still missing the touch of warm skin.