What Villa?

My classmates and I were in a social science class in seventh grade. We were having a discussion about what our lives might be like at the turn of the century. That fateful day was about thirty years away. My little girl dreams came from the only small-town life I had ever known. I envisioned a life with a loving husband in a white two-story house in the suburbs of a large city far away. Our children, a boy and a girl played with a golden retriever underneath the oak trees at the edge of our lawn. Simple, sweet, secure was how I saw my destiny.

When the waning years of the last century finally arrived, they found me not in a happy home but in the middle of an agonizing divorce from the man I loved so much; my heartfelt as if it would implode. Even after more than thirteen years of emotional abuse, I still loved him. As he drove off into the sunset with his young girlfriend, I stood at the jagged edge of the end of my world.

I had invested everything I could borrow and every ounce of energy I possessed into our home and my jewelry design business. When our marriage ended, I had no reliable income to speak of yet. I had just begun to show at the Fashion Markets, and the boutiques were finally starting to buy my work. I had no savings, insurmountable debt, and no place to go. When we sold our home and almost everything we owned, there still wasn't enough to pay for all we owed.

At forty-five years old, I was deeply in debt, homeless, and emotionally destroyed. When an old friend offered me a place to live in exchange for caring for him during his last years of life, I felt as if an angel had offered me his hand.

 Many years have passed since that ultimate sadness.

My villa in the snow.

At last, I have a home of my own. It's only a few miles away from that classroom where I dreamed of a happy life so long ago. There are no children, and there is no dog. There isn't even an oak tree. Those dreams of a family of my own never came true, but I do own two businesses, and I am happy spending time with my dear Mr. Mickey. 

I am very grateful for this part of my life, but it is different from the one I imagined in my youth's restless dreams. 

C'est la vie.