May of 2010 - A Photo Journal Post

I had somewhat of an epiphany the other day. I was scrolling through all the photos I have saved to the cloud looking for excellent pictures of food I could use for my Food prompt.

I have thousands of photos there in the cloud. Thousands. As I scrolled through the past 11 years, I laughed and smiled and felt sad. The memories of each moment and the moments surrounding the photos were vivid. Memories of events that, though I hadn't completely forgotten, have faded a bit with time.

It occurred to me that each photo, even the most unflattering, has a story to tell. I was pleasantly surprised at how many people liked the story of Jonica and Keith and the positive feedback I always get from biographical personal essays.

Each photo contains a story. I have thousands of photos. What if I started at the very beginning (of my photos stored in the cloud) and wrote a story about each photo? I have thousands of stories just waiting to be published.

Because I have so many photos, I don't think I need to publish a story for each one. But I can publish a story with several photos in it.

I am going to give this a try. Want to join me? If it proves popular, I could start another community. Maybe I should have a contest for the name of the community. Hmmmm.

That's another article . . .

So, here goes:

I had tried to dye my hair red. Not orange like Carrot Top, but red. Brick red. I didn't use bleach prior to applying the dye, so my hair turned out more purple than red. I kind of liked it. I was nervous because Keith knew me as a natural blonde. And he always liked my hair.

My hair was only one small item on the list of items about which I was nervous. I hadn't seen Keith since our eldest daughter graduated from High School though we had very brief conversations on the phone. I cherished those brief phone conversations even though I wanted more. I cherished them because Keith had, rightfully, been giving me the silent treatment for around 15 years.

I didn't blame him. I had broken, no, I had shattered his heart.

Our daughter's graduation from high school was the first conversation he and I had had since years before the divorce. And I nipped any potential relationship in the bud when he told me he was working hard to make his marriage work. I stepped back from my own desire to get back together while silently rejoicing the fact he had to work hard on his marriage. That meant there was trouble there.

I have never been the kind of woman who is attracted to people who are in committed relationships. I know a bunch of women are like that. They only seem to want a person if that person is unavailable. Not me.

No matter how badly I wanted Keith back in 2006, I wasn't going to be that person.

When, a few years later, I got a hold of Keith instead of Kara, and he and I talked and talked and talked, my desire to get back together hit me again. Hit me like a mac truck or a wrecking ball. Knocked me right off my feet.

While Keith and I talked on the phone, between running back inside to charge my phone every few hours, I would be out in my backyard pulling weeds and playing with my chickens.

My two favorite chickens were Chantecleer and Flower.

Keith and I started talking in April of 2010. By May, I knew I wanted to take a trip to see him. I decided to not pay most of my bills, and use the money to take a road trip to Texas. The route I took was 1,144 miles (1841 km) and was supposed to take 16.5 hours. I made it in 13 hours, but I drove pretty fast. Like, really fast.

I was too nervous to drive slowly. It was also very hot and my air conditioner in the car didn't work well. I drove with the windows down.

When I finally got to Keith's city, and saw him for the first time in a few years, knowing we might have a chance at a life together again, every bit of nervousness went away. It was like putting on a pair of soft, familiar socks. Warm, and gentle.

I had arranged for my neighbors to watch my chickens and cats for 1 week. So, in 7 days I drove home. Keith later told me that he and his dog sat on the front porch watching every pair of headlights, hoping it was me coming back.

It was another few weeks before I made my second trip, this time to bring Keith to California to see if he wanted to move there with me.

He decidedly did NOT want to live in California.

I sold my house and moved to Texas to live permanently.

Our adventures began there.

Stay tuned for more photo journal posts