September 11th is a tough day for anyone, but especially for me because it is my birthday. Every year I wake up seeing reruns of that horrible day, reliving how many souls were lost. Inevitably, I end up crying. It has always been a source of conflict for me to be festive on the day of my birth without recounting how much this day changed all of our lives forever. But I also know life is for the living. To only remember the heartache of this day diminishes the chance at resurrecting joy. Without joy, we lose meaning. This year on the 13th anniversay of 9/11, I chose to do something different.
After 5 years of being absent from visiting my home state of Minnesota, I returned this week to visit family and friends. My trip started driving from Minneapolis to Grand Marais (on Lake Superior) to hike with my Canadian friends who came across the border from Thunder Bay. The three days I was up there were the warmest and sunniest they've seen all summer. My friends Bill and Jan were very merry and the hiking was superb. On one of the unusually clear nights up there we sat and watched the waxing full moon shine dancing diamond drops of light on Superior. I could not have been more awestruck. To view such magnificent beauty with such warm friends made me feel this was the universe's pre-birthday present to me. The time I was up on the north shore, I felt as if God had his arms wrapped around me.
The next 3 days were diametrically opposite in affect, as I ventured down to rural Anoka County to my cousin Frank's farm. Frank and I are unusually close for cousins, more like brother and sister. In late July he suffered a massive heart attack and stroke. As a result, he had to have carotid bypass surgery which was scheduled on the full moon of September 8th. This is a dangerous surgery and he nearly did not survive. Those days on the farm speaking with his sons (who I used to babysit when they were young) were some of the most emotional I can recount. Though they are not my immediate family, they are my closest one. In our own way, we all knew this is the beginning of the end for Frank. Speaking with each of them about preparing for loss was painful. In the end, Frank did pull through the surgery and was discharged home but has voiced no will to continue living. My biggest prayer has been for him to leave the planet without further suffering. We all holding our breath waiting for this eventuality to happen. The wheel turned bringing with it the next chapter in my journey.
For my birthday this year, I decided I needed to do something different. Because I knew the time with my cousins was going to be draining, I purposely gave myself two days of time in Minneapolis at an inn on an island outside of downtown. This was a time for me to regroup and celebrate my birthday. The inn was quaint and I grew up not more than a mile from here. I remember walking with my father and uncle to it many decades ago. Being back home awakened many positive memories.
While here I met with two potential suitors: one a pastor of non-denominational church and the other a considerably younger man, who I refer to as my "cub". The pastor and I had corresponded numerous times, in addition to speaking on the phone, almost daily before I left California. He had been divorced for a couple of years but had not been intimate with a woman because of his standing within the church. Being that I am a Buddhist also made things complicated. As the Christian leader of his church, he was always under the microscope and I am not what his church would consider microscopic friendly. This man of the cloth brought out the devil in me. Something tempting about seducing a pastor awakened fantasies dating back to my Catholic upbringing. I delighted in taking big risks with this man verbally and in my texts by encouraging him to openly express his inner sexual desires to me. Though he professed to be spiritually conflicted about this, it did not stop him from almost nightly engaging in phone sex with me. It struck me how his confined spiritual beliefs kept him from acknowledging the importance of his human needs. I felt it was beneficial for him to release his pent up celibacy by coming out of his liturgical closet. The good reverend consented to meeting with me at the inn the day before my birthday. We first spent time in my room cuddling and kissing, but his inner turmoil about unresolved issues from his previous relationships would not allow anything further to proceed. All I could think of is that he was like the Reverend Arthur Dimsdale from the "Scarlet Letter" and I was a heathen Hester Prynne. In this case, there would be no scarlet letter sown to my bodice. Well, maybe a letter "B" for Buddhist. As things heated up between us, he got scared and guilt ridden. Before I knew it, he dashed out the door saying he needed to visit a fellow clergy at a hospital. He never returned.
My other suitor (whom I nicknamed the jeune homme) a man almost 20 years my junior, was the one who really gave me the greatest gift for my birthday. He is in the process of divorce and wanted to have a Mrs. Robinson experience with an older woman. Previously before he was married, he had such an experience which he wished to recreate. Initially when I corresponded with him, I told him I was not a cougar. But his keen intelligence, quick wit, and sweetness seduced me. Before I knew it, I was agreeing to a tryst with my charming younger man. Daily, he would send me the sweetest emails and texts. Finally the day of our assignation arrived when he met me at my hotel room. I was taken aback at how handsome and athletic he was. Whatever reservations I had about diving into a clandestine rendevous went out the window when he met me at the inn's restaurant. "How can one woman be so lucky on her birthday?", I thought. He was everything I could have desired and more. Not only was he sensitive, but kind and sweet. His kisses were so soft and passionate. We made love all afternoon. Champagne, flowers, whipped cream, and a gorgeous young man in his forties made my birthday one of the most memorable on record.When he left, I felt like this was yet another incredible present from the universe. I had never entertained being a cougar, now I understand the attraction.
As I leave my home state, I am touched by how much being raised here shaped me for the better. Though I would never consider moving back year round, I would love the chance to return during the warmer months. Who knows, maybe I'll even see my jeune homme again.
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