1984: I like the people I work with, and I enjoy writing wills and trusts–the challenge of translating the wishes of another person into words. There are enough women at the firm (say 10 out of 250) so that there’s always someone to go to lunch with. Work days are long and extend into the evening and the weekend. My mother or one of my sisters picks Kathleen up from Little Paces, gives her supper, and then I swing by their house after work, scoop her up and take her home, give her a bath, and put her to bed. Every other weekend Kathleen spends with T–she has done this since the divorce. I begin to plan a trip to Europe for September with my parents and grandmother. It will be my first vacation. A barge trip for a week and then traveling for a week. When the barge people tell me they don’t allow children, I burst into tears. I only have this one vacation. My parents offer to pay for my sister to bring Kathleen to France after the barge trip is over. Because of what I’m about to write, I remember this: since the divorce, in addition to odd dates here and there, I’ve had two relationships with guys I like–one was intense and lasted about six months, the other is sporadic and ongoing until this moment in June when I go to the State Bar Meeting in Savannah with my friend Eleanor. The first night, while I’m hanging out with another guy, she introduces me to Cal, who has to leave the next morning. The second night, I meet M. I really like both. M is headed out of town but calls when he gets back. Meanwhile I’ve already gone out with Cal–who, while we’re together, asks me out for the next weekend. When M asks me out, I already have a date with Cal. This cycle repeats itself. Finally M asks me out for a week night. For a couple of months I mostly go out with Cal but also here and there with M until I only have eyes for Cal.

33 days to 60

~

Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

—Mary Oliver