The 'Burbs

So, the other night, I was out for a walk in our charming little New England town with my newly-acquired husband. It was an end-of-summer night, the kind where the air is soft and calm, the temperature is perfect after coming down from a warm day. The humidity is no longer oppressive, but rather like a calming ether. It was a night that feels like sand slipping through your fingers. They are numbered, and for that they are all the more special.

We got ice cream cones and walked. All around us were sweet families with children, or elderly couples who are likely on the other side of fulfilling careers and successfully-launched offspring. People were happy and smiling, and therefore were happy to be among such functionality and peace among humanity.

AND THEN, as often happens, admiration turned into intimidation and then self-deprecation. Lots of these people probably got together after meeting in Harvard's Extra-Special Overachievers Super Duper Honors Society for People Who Do Everything Exactly Right Club. They probably eat strictly organic all the time, which is how their skin glows. They are maybe even the donors who keep our arts organizations running. They are all on the same landing path in life. They've made it.

Not like us.

As we often acknowledge, we are outliers in this picturesque town. In a place where everyone seems to have "landed," we are the "in betweeners." And further, we're not so sure we'll end up like them. We exude confidence and royalty, but are really still just two kids trying to figure it out.  

We stopped in front of a store window of real estate listings, and pointed out the obvious flaws in the $2,000,000 "fixer upper." I knew in my gut that there have to be downsides to that kind of life. We just couldn't articulate it.

I knew in my gut that we'll one day settle and find our own actual home; that we'll be hosting dinners, fencing off bunny rabbits, getting our kids music lessons straight out of the womb, and all the things we assume these "have it together" people do.

I knew, and know, in my gut, that we'll figure it all out, that WE'LL ACHIEVE THE PERFECT STABLE LIFE WITHOUT ANY FLAWS OR PROBLEMS EVER AT ALL. We just don't know how quite exactly yet.

Or that we haven't already done it.

While pontificating on this together, we made the journey back home. The lanterny lights faded as we grew closer to our destination. Soon, the only real light was from the full moon.


SUDDENLY, an animal scurried in front of me. I jumped three feet in the air and screamed in bloody horror. I assumed it was a monster out to eat me. It stopped in its tracks, and I saw it was a baby bunny rabbit. After a staring contest, he peacefully hopped into the bushes. I knew in my gut that it was judging me (and laughing). I just couldn't prove it.

So then I peered up, and spotted a couple of little faint stars. I knew in my gut that there were more stars all around. I just couldn't see them. Before opening our front door, I tilted my head back and cast a pleading stare into the stratosphere. I thought questions like, Who am I? Where am I going? Where did I put my Sephora lip gloss?  I leaned into the feelings. The ache of adulthood. The struggle with the "in between." The unknown. And gratitude too. I searched for what I knew was there but couldn't see. I expressed non-religiously (but spiritually) that I have faith.

Michael patiently stared at me, waiting to go inside. Then he too gave an upward glance to the sky, and then back to me. I put my arm around his shoulder and gripped it like the jaws of life.

“I have faith,” I said aloud this time. “Say you have faith.”

He obeyed, like every good new husband does.

"Faith in...?" 

"I don't know," I replied. "And everything."

We repeated it, and then chanted it, peppering it with humor covered by deep knowledge that this is no joke at all.

The clouds moved in. 

Then, something poked its head out of the bushes and said, "Welcome to the 'burbs, guys. This is real life out here."

I ran inside screaming. Balancing my crazy with calm, Michael followed me in smiling. We proceeded forth into the future, nurturing the home we have already made together, no matter where it leads.