A Smoke and a Song by Sherry Sidoti

Author:Sherry Sidoti
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: She Writes Press

Martha

There’s a saying: “You don’t choose Martha’s Vineyard; Martha’s Vineyard chooses you.” They say her magnetic force is so strong that when she wants you here, under her red clay cliffs and lapping Atlantic Ocean, she’ll pull you here no matter what. That your life before, all that you once knew, will feel like a distant dream once she gets her island claws in you.

We were pulled to her, and Martha does not disappoint. Martha gives us friends with acoustic guitars, cedar-wooded trails to get lost on, lobster rolls on Friday nights, and beach plum jelly. She gives Miles sandy dunes to roll down in summer and perfect-sized hills to sled on in winter. She gives us a new kitty named Shadow, with gray-and-black fur, a lush patch of white that covers the left side of her face, and an extra toe on each paw.

Martha even holds on when I am not in the mood, when I am at my wits’ end with insular life. This happens when you live on a floating patch of land in the middle of the ocean, where everyone not only knows who you are but knows the car you drive—even more so when you are a wash-ashore. Especially in the off-season, when the population whittles down from 140,000 to 12,000, and you feel a bit claustrophobic. And when you are a New Yorker and used to a certain amount of anonymity, and especially at Cronig’s grocery store, where you run into all the people, and all you want to do is check the things off your list and run home.

It’s then that Martha digs in. She’ll have you bump into that one person you’ve been avoiding, who says something like, “We missed you the other night at the potluck,” reminding you that you are living in a community of people who not only notice you but who care about you. People who want you around. People who listen and let you become the person you have always meant to become but couldn’t before, because in every other place you felt unseen, unheard, and underappreciated.

How lucky to have ended up here. And so last minute! Nestled in Martha’s arms, we have received one blessing after the next. In her embrace, she gifts the graces, with courteous goodwill and generosity. She gives, and I learn to let myself receive.

Rob left his acting career and personal trainer dreams in California and took up gardening. He found us a place and a job all rolled into one—a little two-bedroom apartment, on the second floor of the 1970s shingled Cape at Heather Gardens, a local nursery. Rob waters plants and sows seeds in the greenhouse with Mike and Kerry, the couple that lives downstairs. We even have a pool in our backyard where Juniper and Miles swim. The local yoga studio is just half a mile down the road.

I found a circle of new moms to bond with as soon as we moved here, other women with baby boys the same age as Miles—soul-sister women, women I like, apart from the babies.

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