The life meant to be lived

Although I was devasted when my ex left me for another woman. She became his second wife. I can only thank them now. My ex lived the life that was good for him. Had I stayed married I probably would still be at 55 Pratt Street, Reading, Massachusetts and lived a life that if not wrong for me, would not have been as satisfying.

Instead, I was able to live the life that was meant for me. 

For many years I lived in Boston, enjoying, the culture, history and atmosphere. With a couple I rennovated a town house and despite the chaos it created, there was much more fun than one would expect stepping over tools, removing paint, tearing down walls, putting down tile, etc.

My daughter was able to get an exceptional education at Boston Latin.

I was able to build a career and although corporate life had downs as well as ups, the challenges were (fill in the blank). It paid the bills and gave me the skills for my next step.

A lifelong dream to live and write in Europe was made possible when I received a job offer in Switzerland -- and it only took mailing more than 800+ CVs (resumes) to France and Germany and one in Switzerland. This led to my becoming a Swiss citizen in 2006.

My first home there was a village in the Jura with 600 residents, 6000 cows, and an old abbey converted to a cave that produced champagne. It can't be called that because of certain laws that only champagne from Champagne, France has the right to use the name.

As for writing--yup that worked too. 

I moved to Geneva, again surrounded by history, the lake, Alps, Jura. Switzerland is a postcard and just stepping out of the house can bring joy to one's eyes.

There I discovered other writers which led to my masters in writing from Glamorgan University in Wales. I had short stories published: one was read on BBC radio. My novel Chickpea Lover, Not a Cookbook, found a publisher after winning a contest for unpublished novels and 40+ rejections. Yes, I am stubborn.

After that I kept publishing books. http://dlnelsonwriter.com . I am awaiting publication for my non-fiction book 300 Unsung Women, biographies of women who have done remarkable things throughout history but never received the credit. I'm awaiting proofs of my anthology The Corporate Virgin. While I'm researching The Bean Pot, a saga based on some family history and the bean pot that was used by my great grandmother, grandmother, and me from the 1890s until today. It will be fictionalized.

After my alleged retirement, I started a financial newsletter and ended up interviewing several world leaders, none of whom will remember me, but doing it amazed me that I could.

At 71 I married my soul mate and we divide our time between Geneva and a French village that would make a great TV serial with all the local characters. We've made friends with expats from England, Ireland, Scotland, Germany, France, Denmark, Sweden. There's nothing like getting bread hot from the oven and picking up local fruits and vegetables from the green grocer. There's the pleasure of sitting in one of the many cafés and chatting with neigbors. Some pass by: some join us. I say I can go out at 8 a.m. to buy fresh bread and not get back until after lunch because of the people I meet.

As for my husband, he has only two faults: he leaves dishes in the sink and over worries. Compared to his many qualities, including putting up with my many quirks, he qualifies for a halo. 

My ex, who recently died, and I were lucky that we didn't live wrong lives with each other.