The equator splits the Earth into two portions at zero degrees latitude. Though you can’t touch
it, it’s genuine never the less. There’s another imaginary line that divides my life into two halves. The
first half I don’t want to remember, discuss, or acknowledge. To remember the good in this time, just
causes the bad to leach through and black it out like an ink stain on my favorite skirt.

I crossed over to my new life on an ordinary Tuesday in 2008. Pairing away the bruised and
broken items, few earned the right to cross over to the second half. The fresh new life included only the
best of my things – the necessary of course, and the things that soothe my soul.

What was once a purple nightgown is now faded to a hushed lavender. First a hot bath, a long soak in
iridescent bubbles that soar and burst, music tinkling, and then the tried and true lavender gown to
smooth the rough edges away. After many washes that bleached it soft, this gown never fails to quiet
raw nerves and cradle a good night’s sleep, No tight waist band, no hooks or buttons to bite, just the
smell of clean wash and freedom from the dress clothes a professional life requires. The gown does not
fail me; it keeps its promises and thus earns its home on this side of the line.

–Sherry Blevins
May, 2020