Full Circle

Ashes to Ashes

I am invited to a late-summer bonfire soiree that Becky is hosting. Besides the usual details regarding date, time and location, she lists three tasks: bring a covered dish in keeping with a barbecue theme; "be sure to bring your smile," which is pure Becky; finally, we are to write one thing (or person) to let go of forever, then seal the note up in an unmarked envelope. Reassuringly, the notes' contents will not be publicly divulged.

Interested now, I text her my RSVP. I most definitely will attend.

As usual, I procrastinate until the morning of the party. I tackle the hardest task first: the writing piece. I hear Sara-Beth is coming, and she will be bringing several pies. We all know we cannot compete with her cooking. On the plus side, it lessens the pressure to pretend I am a gourmet chef. I will pull together a simple casserole later.

I begin to pen a final letter to Bill. As the words start flowing, it is clear that I've finally come full circle. Ready to set him, and memories of him, free forever, I will set myself free as well. Through a friend-of-a-friend, I recently learned that he's met "the right one," and that a winter wedding is in the works. I write that I am happy to learn that he has found what eluded him here. I wish the two of them a lifetime full of love, happiness, and good health. I thank him for encouraging me to journey here with him; if I hadn't, perhaps I would have spent forever wondering about us. His abrupt departure and my ensuing heartbreak have afforded me the closure that eludes some. In losing him, I've found myself. He unwittingly opened the door for me to someday find the one who will happily stand beside me no matter where life's unpredictable and circuitous path leads us. Though we haven't spoken since he left, I inform him that I have officially moved on, ready to put my heart out there again. I don't hate him, and – though he never heard them – I'm sorry I uttered those spiteful words. Said in the heat of the moment, I didn't mean them. I'm erasing them this minute, taking them back forever.

And with that, I slip the note into its envelope and seal it shut, then get started on a hash brown casserole because time is quickly running out. My stomach is already growling, thinking about the array of savory, home-cooked dishes that we'll be sharing later.

I look forward to whatever magical surprises Becky has in store for us tonight. She sure does know how to throw an exceptional party.