I want to write something... not sure what. I've had some sparks of ideas but nothing has formed yet and really my mind just keeps coming back to one subject and I honestly don't know what I want to say about it. I can't quite get my thoughts in kind of logical sequence and me being me I need a logical sequence. I've been busy lately so that's not helped me put any of it in order and it's frustrating.
The latest CD in the car is Keith Urban. I've actually seen him in concert twice - there are several songs he sings that just make me happy - Who Wouldn't Wanna Be Me, and Somebody Like You. Listening to those while I drive makes me wanna keep on goin' down I-26 til I hit the ocean - impractical I know - especially with gas prices - but perhaps one day I'll do it... just keep on goin'! I'll let ya know.
I think though my favorite Keith Urban song is Raining on Sunday... just something about it that makes me very thoughtful and quiet... I like the romance of it... the possibility of taking a day, a rainy, dark day, and just focusing on someone... the sensuality of it all appeals to me. Perhaps one day I'll be able to experience that with someone - someone who loves the rain as much as I do....
I've decided should things work out job wise I will buy myself a present. There are several things that need to be done around the house - I need to paint the living room and I want a new mirror for the bathroom... I have some pictures I'd like to get framed and I want to have daughter's first pair of Russian Pointe shoes put in a shadow box... all little things I've put off because of money. But the one thing I want - the one thing that's totally frivolous, would be to buy a Japanese rain chain. I saw them on HGTV a few weeks ago - a couple had someone come and landscape their home and outside the front door were two pots of plants with rain chains hanging above them. I'd like to have one - to be able to listen to the sound and have another way to enjoy the rain. Aren't they pretty?
9.30.2008
9.26.2008
Divorce Revisited...
My new anniversary is November 9th... that's the day I went to court, stood across the aisle from the man I was married to for almost 21 years and answered the judges questions... he asked stuff like have you tried to reconcile, did you try counseling, is there anything the court could do... and I answered them and ex answered them. The judge asked a few more questions, the lawyer called me to the stand - I affirmed the fact I was seeking a divorce and yes we had lived apart for at least a year... she asked about some of the provisions in the agreement - then called my witness to testify to the fact we had been apart a year... a few other questions I don't remember and the judge said he was satisfied the marriage was irretrievably broken and he signed off on it... we went to the clerk who affixed the seal and it was done. It probably took all of 15 minutes. Ex and I didn't talk at all while we waited. I spoke to my lawyer mostly and my minister who had graciously agreed to be my witness. He would go speak to ex some but mostly ex was alone. He looked horrible - terribly thin. I had dressed for success... I had bought a new black skirt, tight fitting until the flounce at the bottom, and a soft, apple green sweater. I figured if a girl couldn't buy a new outfit to get divorced in then when could she.
A week later the topic of my divorce came up with some ladies at work. They were giving me a pep talk when another lady walked in and she was invited into the conversation. She had gone through a divorce years earlier and she was urged to tell me that it eventually gets ok. She was too funny, said she had the belief that every woman who goes through a divorce has two years to be nuts... to just do, say, act any which way she so chooses... and if no one gets it, if everyone thinks you've gone off the deep end then so what. I remember that occasionally when I think I've lost my mind - I still have thirteen more months. Lots of stuff I've done can fall under that umbrella... it gives me some comfort to be able to place all my off the wall thoughts, actions and feelings in a box labeled "crazy." I still have some craziness I'd like to try out... stuff I'll keep to myself for now... but maybe one day it will be good fodder for blogging... who knows.
I heard a song on the radio yesterday that brought all this to mind. There are lots of songs out there, past and present, about heartache and the end of relationships. They all have their place, some have made more of an impact on me than others, but nothing I've heard ever captured the whole "two years to be crazy" attitude until I heard So What. It's a new Pink song. Now I've always liked Pink - actually love some of her songs. I think she's probably a pretty straight shootin' chick - no bullshit, no pretense. She never seems to have a hard time making fun of herself in videos and she's pretty and sexy in a really unconventional way - at least that's my take. The song just throws it all out there - I love it when she says, "and you're a tool." The video is great, she spends the whole three plus minutes doing the craziest stuff - driving a lawn mower down a city street, she cuts down that tree, harasses the salesman in the guitar store, goes off on the just married couple, strips naked and dances around in front of the paparazzi, sets her hair on fire, takes up with strange people and plays mean little jokes. How much nuttier can you get than that?
The video is off the wall, so ridiculously funny, but it captures an emotion - the very real feeling I had - the feeling that pushed me to explore and step outside of myself, to turn myself upside down - the hilarity in the video sorta diffuses the too often, too real aspects of it all. When your world changes so drastically, so profoundly, so completely, something snaps inside... you just feel this need to reclaim something... anything... you really aren't sure at first what that something is. Slowly it begins to dawn on you though... slowly you start to realize what you're trying to reclaim is actually yourself. Doing crazy things is a way to test yourself... explore your boundries, rediscover who you are. I suppose that's why it all looks so crazy on the outside - for so long I projected an image, adopted a way to cope and get through the day and it wasn't pleasant... it was tiring, lonely and, well, futile. At some point you remember you're still a rock star - and that's when the fun begins.
Pink's ex is in the video so the end of their marriage must have been on friendly terms. It's great they can be like that - sometimes I wish mine could have been too but when a "tool" would rather slink away into oblivion than work through it then you really don't have much of a choice... but regardless of the motivation behind the song it's very much my new anthem! (at least for the next thirteen months)
A week later the topic of my divorce came up with some ladies at work. They were giving me a pep talk when another lady walked in and she was invited into the conversation. She had gone through a divorce years earlier and she was urged to tell me that it eventually gets ok. She was too funny, said she had the belief that every woman who goes through a divorce has two years to be nuts... to just do, say, act any which way she so chooses... and if no one gets it, if everyone thinks you've gone off the deep end then so what. I remember that occasionally when I think I've lost my mind - I still have thirteen more months. Lots of stuff I've done can fall under that umbrella... it gives me some comfort to be able to place all my off the wall thoughts, actions and feelings in a box labeled "crazy." I still have some craziness I'd like to try out... stuff I'll keep to myself for now... but maybe one day it will be good fodder for blogging... who knows.
I heard a song on the radio yesterday that brought all this to mind. There are lots of songs out there, past and present, about heartache and the end of relationships. They all have their place, some have made more of an impact on me than others, but nothing I've heard ever captured the whole "two years to be crazy" attitude until I heard So What. It's a new Pink song. Now I've always liked Pink - actually love some of her songs. I think she's probably a pretty straight shootin' chick - no bullshit, no pretense. She never seems to have a hard time making fun of herself in videos and she's pretty and sexy in a really unconventional way - at least that's my take. The song just throws it all out there - I love it when she says, "and you're a tool." The video is great, she spends the whole three plus minutes doing the craziest stuff - driving a lawn mower down a city street, she cuts down that tree, harasses the salesman in the guitar store, goes off on the just married couple, strips naked and dances around in front of the paparazzi, sets her hair on fire, takes up with strange people and plays mean little jokes. How much nuttier can you get than that?
The video is off the wall, so ridiculously funny, but it captures an emotion - the very real feeling I had - the feeling that pushed me to explore and step outside of myself, to turn myself upside down - the hilarity in the video sorta diffuses the too often, too real aspects of it all. When your world changes so drastically, so profoundly, so completely, something snaps inside... you just feel this need to reclaim something... anything... you really aren't sure at first what that something is. Slowly it begins to dawn on you though... slowly you start to realize what you're trying to reclaim is actually yourself. Doing crazy things is a way to test yourself... explore your boundries, rediscover who you are. I suppose that's why it all looks so crazy on the outside - for so long I projected an image, adopted a way to cope and get through the day and it wasn't pleasant... it was tiring, lonely and, well, futile. At some point you remember you're still a rock star - and that's when the fun begins.
Pink's ex is in the video so the end of their marriage must have been on friendly terms. It's great they can be like that - sometimes I wish mine could have been too but when a "tool" would rather slink away into oblivion than work through it then you really don't have much of a choice... but regardless of the motivation behind the song it's very much my new anthem! (at least for the next thirteen months)
9.25.2008
Thoughts Before Sleep
Norah Jones has a beautiful voice - haunting... soft... intimate.
Come Away With Me...
walk with me in the fall woods... my back against a tree, lean into me with a soft, sweet kiss...
sit with me by the fire as we share a glass of wine, holding hands, fingers entwined...
hold me while we lie in bed listening to the gentle rain lulling us into sleep....
wake me in the morning with a slightly sly smile and a sleepy kiss...
come away with me...
Come Away With Me...
walk with me in the fall woods... my back against a tree, lean into me with a soft, sweet kiss...
sit with me by the fire as we share a glass of wine, holding hands, fingers entwined...
hold me while we lie in bed listening to the gentle rain lulling us into sleep....
wake me in the morning with a slightly sly smile and a sleepy kiss...
come away with me...
9.23.2008
God Is Great
I've had a rough couple of years (maybe closer to a decade?) - that's no secret to anyone close to me, no secret to anyone reading this blog. I don't walk up to strangers on the street and tell them my story - I don't get into it with most people I don't know well. If someone asks me about it I answer questions, sometimes I offer basic rudimentary information pertaining to the bipolar disorder, sometimes people will ask me about the affair, or ask me about the kids and how they are coping... but most often it's just my closest friends who know it all. As time has passed it's been less in the forefront of my mind and so I've been able, in essence, to live again some. Breathe again some.
One of the hardest things in the last few years (decade?) has been the slow deterioration of my faith. I'd had this long held belief that God takes care of us... that God had a vested interest in us as individuals, as people... but at some point in this journey, this trial, this descent into hell, I lost that... during a time in my life, a time when I needed to be closest to God, I couldn't have felt farther away. I'd felt abandoned in a lot of ways - abandoned by God - and it made no sense to me. The bottom had dropped out of my life and I was free falling into a deep, black cavern of desperation. Where was God? I hated everything. I hated my life, my marriage, my church, other people. I was so envious of everyone else who looked "on track." They hadn't been derailed, they weren't losing it all, and I was bitter and I was someone I didn't like - a green, distorted, grotesque monster... I was miserable. The harder I worked to fix it the more I just got kicked in the teeth... and that made me hard... and cynical... and cold.
Little by little I've been crawling out of the pit. Little by little I've been reclaiming myself, my life, my happiness. Little by little I've been reclaiming my relationship with God. Something I've come to realize is He never really left me... He just sorta sat back, watching from the sidelines, patiently waiting on me while I figured it out. Life, my life, isn't totally fixed yet - but it's a whole lot better than it used to be... and hopefully the scattered puzzle pieces are starting to fall into place - slowly. I'm blown away by how kind people have been... blown away by the support they've given - and for the first time in a long time I feel like I have a network, a caring group of people - and it just keeps growing... getting bigger and farther reaching, one life touching another, and then another.... It's an awesome thing really - a humbling thing - and I feel blessed.
I've started enjoying being in church on Sundays again. I seem to take something with me from every service - sometimes it's the music, sometimes the sermon, and sometimes it's nothing more than simply reciting the Apostle's Creed - saying the words and reaffirming my faith. My favorite part of the service though always seems to be the Prayer of Confession and the Assurance of Pardon. I find comfort in speaking aloud my sins and short comings. Last Sunday it was an all encompassing service for me though. The sermon was spot on... God Blesses Us Even When We Complain was the title and the message was close to brilliant. At one point the minister challenged us all to think - was there really ever a time when God didn't provide what we needed? Maybe it wasn't exactly what we expected, maybe it wasn't all that we wanted -but was it all we needed? And man o man did that hit home! He said we've all gotten used to thinking miracles have to be grand events, obvious to all, when in reality they are more often tiny little moments that we overlook. When he said that I thought of the cat.
That day in the mail I received a check for $70. It was a refund on an overage in my escrow account - money I had no idea was coming - a tiny little miracle. When I picked the kitten up from the vet the bill came to $65 - there was a reduction for some reason... I can't remember why... but it all worked out. We named her Bridget and she's become the sweetest most friendly little thing ever.
Before I sign off I thought I'd include Sunday's Prayer of Confession - for lots of reasons it mirrors what I've been feeling - He will take care of me... He will provide... I just have to have faith:
Loving God, you know our weaknesses. Fearful of the future we forget what you have done for us in the past. We see scarcity where you supply abundance. We complain when conditions challenge us. We begrudge others their success, allow envy to divide us, and live lives that are unworthy of the Gospel. Generous God, forgive us. Help us to remember your wonderful works, trust your gracious provisions, seek out your presence, and strive side-by-side with others to serve you well.
One of the hardest things in the last few years (decade?) has been the slow deterioration of my faith. I'd had this long held belief that God takes care of us... that God had a vested interest in us as individuals, as people... but at some point in this journey, this trial, this descent into hell, I lost that... during a time in my life, a time when I needed to be closest to God, I couldn't have felt farther away. I'd felt abandoned in a lot of ways - abandoned by God - and it made no sense to me. The bottom had dropped out of my life and I was free falling into a deep, black cavern of desperation. Where was God? I hated everything. I hated my life, my marriage, my church, other people. I was so envious of everyone else who looked "on track." They hadn't been derailed, they weren't losing it all, and I was bitter and I was someone I didn't like - a green, distorted, grotesque monster... I was miserable. The harder I worked to fix it the more I just got kicked in the teeth... and that made me hard... and cynical... and cold.
Little by little I've been crawling out of the pit. Little by little I've been reclaiming myself, my life, my happiness. Little by little I've been reclaiming my relationship with God. Something I've come to realize is He never really left me... He just sorta sat back, watching from the sidelines, patiently waiting on me while I figured it out. Life, my life, isn't totally fixed yet - but it's a whole lot better than it used to be... and hopefully the scattered puzzle pieces are starting to fall into place - slowly. I'm blown away by how kind people have been... blown away by the support they've given - and for the first time in a long time I feel like I have a network, a caring group of people - and it just keeps growing... getting bigger and farther reaching, one life touching another, and then another.... It's an awesome thing really - a humbling thing - and I feel blessed.
I've started enjoying being in church on Sundays again. I seem to take something with me from every service - sometimes it's the music, sometimes the sermon, and sometimes it's nothing more than simply reciting the Apostle's Creed - saying the words and reaffirming my faith. My favorite part of the service though always seems to be the Prayer of Confession and the Assurance of Pardon. I find comfort in speaking aloud my sins and short comings. Last Sunday it was an all encompassing service for me though. The sermon was spot on... God Blesses Us Even When We Complain was the title and the message was close to brilliant. At one point the minister challenged us all to think - was there really ever a time when God didn't provide what we needed? Maybe it wasn't exactly what we expected, maybe it wasn't all that we wanted -but was it all we needed? And man o man did that hit home! He said we've all gotten used to thinking miracles have to be grand events, obvious to all, when in reality they are more often tiny little moments that we overlook. When he said that I thought of the cat.
That day in the mail I received a check for $70. It was a refund on an overage in my escrow account - money I had no idea was coming - a tiny little miracle. When I picked the kitten up from the vet the bill came to $65 - there was a reduction for some reason... I can't remember why... but it all worked out. We named her Bridget and she's become the sweetest most friendly little thing ever.
Before I sign off I thought I'd include Sunday's Prayer of Confession - for lots of reasons it mirrors what I've been feeling - He will take care of me... He will provide... I just have to have faith:
Loving God, you know our weaknesses. Fearful of the future we forget what you have done for us in the past. We see scarcity where you supply abundance. We complain when conditions challenge us. We begrudge others their success, allow envy to divide us, and live lives that are unworthy of the Gospel. Generous God, forgive us. Help us to remember your wonderful works, trust your gracious provisions, seek out your presence, and strive side-by-side with others to serve you well.
9.15.2008
Sing a Song
There have been a few blog entries here about music - what's a ball, after all, without music and dance and conversation? No fun, right? So there's lots of music... stuff I like, stuff that has meaning to me. But it's not just about listening to music for me... I like to sing it too. It's kinda of a secret, not a closely guarded one though, just one most people aren't exposed to too often. The kids yeah, they've been privileged to hear my melodious voice because they ride in the car with me... but more often than not it's me alone, singing... singing... singing, envisioning myself sitting on a grand piano wearing a silky red dress, red satin heels, perfectly coiffed hair, singing a heartfelt sad song while the piano player accompanies me. After the song ends the crowd bursts into applause, I say a few words, thanking the piano player and he begins the next song.... I'd have a repertoire of torch songs to keep the crowd enthralled - they'd all be mesmorized by my seductive voice.
Now I'm not really sure if I have a pleasant singing voice or not. The dog doesn't howl when I sing so that's a good sign, I think. One Advent the family was invited to light the Advent wreath during the Sunday service. We had to speak some lines and say a prayer - each of us having a few lines to say on our own. I had to say the most becomes none of the others wanted to... but afterwards I got a lot of compliments on my speaking voice. The choir director started asking me to join the choir - it's something I've not done yet - rehearsal is in the evening during the middle of the week and it's not a terribly convenient thing for me to do right now. A time will come when I'll be able to do it... a few more years and then we'll see. I like to sing in church... I'm sure I sing quite loudly - but the way I see it I'm simply making a "joyful noise unto the Lord..." and who could argue with that?
One of my childhood dreams was to become an opera singer - funny huh? There was just something so powerfully, beautifully perfect about the way an opera singer would sing... the epitome of class and grace. I would have liked voice lessons and to have been classically trained - but to what end I have no idea. I wasn't looking to be some kind of pop star or American Idol contestant... and I really don't know much about opera so I'm not sure what about it appealed to me so much. I did like the idea of wearing those costumes though... it's all about the fashion ya know - and sometimes they wear a tiara, you can't go wrong wearing a tiara. I can't sing soprano very well, not sure if that would disqualify me - wonder if that's a no-no in the opera world? I think my voice actually lends itself more to Patsy Cline than anything. I guess the whole idea of classical training would be to know if I have any talent, proof of some sort. I could then say,"Well I took voice at such and such a place" and people would go "ahhhhhh" (all the while thinking "She's such a pretentious bore"). But I guess the truth is simply that it makes me happy to sing - so it doesn't matter whether or not I have any talent, all that matters is it's something I do for myself, something to lift my soul, and that's gotta be a good thing. So...
For my next song I'd like to sing a little something my momma would play on her record player when I was a little girl all those many years ago... hope you like it...
Now I'm not really sure if I have a pleasant singing voice or not. The dog doesn't howl when I sing so that's a good sign, I think. One Advent the family was invited to light the Advent wreath during the Sunday service. We had to speak some lines and say a prayer - each of us having a few lines to say on our own. I had to say the most becomes none of the others wanted to... but afterwards I got a lot of compliments on my speaking voice. The choir director started asking me to join the choir - it's something I've not done yet - rehearsal is in the evening during the middle of the week and it's not a terribly convenient thing for me to do right now. A time will come when I'll be able to do it... a few more years and then we'll see. I like to sing in church... I'm sure I sing quite loudly - but the way I see it I'm simply making a "joyful noise unto the Lord..." and who could argue with that?
One of my childhood dreams was to become an opera singer - funny huh? There was just something so powerfully, beautifully perfect about the way an opera singer would sing... the epitome of class and grace. I would have liked voice lessons and to have been classically trained - but to what end I have no idea. I wasn't looking to be some kind of pop star or American Idol contestant... and I really don't know much about opera so I'm not sure what about it appealed to me so much. I did like the idea of wearing those costumes though... it's all about the fashion ya know - and sometimes they wear a tiara, you can't go wrong wearing a tiara. I can't sing soprano very well, not sure if that would disqualify me - wonder if that's a no-no in the opera world? I think my voice actually lends itself more to Patsy Cline than anything. I guess the whole idea of classical training would be to know if I have any talent, proof of some sort. I could then say,"Well I took voice at such and such a place" and people would go "ahhhhhh" (all the while thinking "She's such a pretentious bore"). But I guess the truth is simply that it makes me happy to sing - so it doesn't matter whether or not I have any talent, all that matters is it's something I do for myself, something to lift my soul, and that's gotta be a good thing. So...
For my next song I'd like to sing a little something my momma would play on her record player when I was a little girl all those many years ago... hope you like it...
9.14.2008
My Favorite Things...
My buddy, my darlin' pal, my friend did a post about what makes him happy, materialistic things that make him happy, and it got me thinking - what makes me happy? I like the idea of thinking about that... thinking about what makes me happy, thinking about what makes the day easier or brighter. The non materialistic kinda blends with the materialistic though... however, we are living in a material world, right? And I am a material girl, right? So let's see what I come up with, shall we?
We first have my bed... little story about the bed - we needed a new mattress, ex and I (long before we were exs) and we had a double bed... with a headboard and all, a hand-me-down, and I liked the bed so I thought we'd get a new double mattress but he wanted a queen mattress - and I said but we don't have a queen sized bed and he said that's ok, I'll make one. And so he did. We bought a book on old shaker style furniture, I picked a pattern for a pencil post bed, and he made it from wood discovered years earlier in his grandfather's old barn. The wood is walnut, only finished with an oil so the wood is natural and gorgeous. I love this bed. Someday I'd like to get a feather topper for the mattress, the most decedent pillows and a ton of cushy linens that make it poof up like a cloud - but that's an expensive endeavor that will just have to wait. Oh, and I put some books on the bed because I love books... without books what good would life be?
Then we have my knives - probably one of the more creative Christmas gifts the ex ever gave me. I told him he was a brave man to buy me killer knives (a joke before learning of the second affair). They were expensive and I love them... find it impossible to cook without them - I actually take one (or more) of them to my mother's during the holidays when we cook because she has horrible knives that barely cut. I am now a knife snob... I make no apologies for it either
Last photo in the row is of my favorite picture of the kids. It was taken on Hilton Head the summer of 2004. I hired a woman of considerable talent at considerable expense and she spent a long time taking some of the best pictures. This pic was taken toward the end of the session... daughter was sitting on son's knee and just spontaneously turned to kiss him and the photographer caught it at just the right moment. The look on son's face is priceless and daughter was so proud of herself - I absolutely adore it. The picture sits on the dresser I reclaimed about a year after ex moved out - I took all of his things out of it, boxed them all up and then stripped the dresser and refinished it. Next to the pic are the two things I wear everyday: Amber Romance spray and lotion from Victoria's Secret - ohhh la la
Alrighty - having fun yet? I sure am... he he.
Then we have my knives - probably one of the more creative Christmas gifts the ex ever gave me. I told him he was a brave man to buy me killer knives (a joke before learning of the second affair). They were expensive and I love them... find it impossible to cook without them - I actually take one (or more) of them to my mother's during the holidays when we cook because she has horrible knives that barely cut. I am now a knife snob... I make no apologies for it either
Last photo in the row is of my favorite picture of the kids. It was taken on Hilton Head the summer of 2004. I hired a woman of considerable talent at considerable expense and she spent a long time taking some of the best pictures. This pic was taken toward the end of the session... daughter was sitting on son's knee and just spontaneously turned to kiss him and the photographer caught it at just the right moment. The look on son's face is priceless and daughter was so proud of herself - I absolutely adore it. The picture sits on the dresser I reclaimed about a year after ex moved out - I took all of his things out of it, boxed them all up and then stripped the dresser and refinished it. Next to the pic are the two things I wear everyday: Amber Romance spray and lotion from Victoria's Secret - ohhh la la
Alrighty - having fun yet? I sure am... he he.
The first pic on the left is of my conte crayon drawings of the kids. The drawings were Christmas gifts from the (now ex) in laws. They were done from photographs of each kiddo when they were two - the son's was done first and then the daughter's about six years later. I think they commissioned them from a catalog... these works of art are two of my most prized possessions, truly treasures to me. People always ask the "what would you save from your home if you only had a few minutes to get out" question... I think I'd grab those pictures if I could.
The Christmas ornament is a representation of all my Christmas ornaments... it's the latest to my collection, a gift my son brought me back from Disney World. I love shopping for Christmas ornaments... I have lots of Noah's Ark, all very different and creative - the more unusual the better. I like hand blown glass balls and glass ornaments - I have one in the shape of a station wagon with a tree tied to the top. It makes me think of the movie Christmas Vacation and always, always makes me laugh. For a few Christmas's in a row ex bought me a Waterford dated ornament as a gift - it was special to me - the act of doing that, I looked forward to seeing what he'd picked out every year - he did it five times and then he stopped, never did it again and a few years after that he left. Son surprised me one January a few years ago with a beautiful blue dated Waterford ornament - he and girlfriend had been shopping at the outlet mall in Myrtle Beach and saw it - he remembered how much I treasure the ones I have so he bought me one. It was the sweetest, most thoughtful thing... it made me cry.
Last picture in that row is of my foot... yeah yeah I know a little odd huh? I took that picture this morning after my shower... nothing like smooth, lotioned legs to make you feel fresh as a daisy. I was wrapped in a towel but I guess you didn't need to know that (and I wonder why people laugh when I talk about joining a convent). But ... I always paint my toes - always... no self respecting southern woman would go out into public without her toes properly painted. Right now they are a rich shade of burgundy but I often will just do a French pedicure on them in the summer. Having nice toes makes me feel pretty, makes me feel pulled together, and I happen to think perfectly painted toes are sexy... or at least it makes me feel sexy... so they're always done. And the toe ring... that's the one piece of jewelry I always wear. I bought it at my favorite jewelry store... I thought it was different and quite unusual - it was a tiny little splurge that made me happy.
So there you have it... I could add more I suppose - sunflowers, rain, autumn leaves, sweet tea, BBQ from Henry's, crab cakes - but I won't right now... I think the above is a nice little sprinkling of me... besides the sunflowers/rain/leaves/food thing isn't terribly materialistic now is it?
The Christmas ornament is a representation of all my Christmas ornaments... it's the latest to my collection, a gift my son brought me back from Disney World. I love shopping for Christmas ornaments... I have lots of Noah's Ark, all very different and creative - the more unusual the better. I like hand blown glass balls and glass ornaments - I have one in the shape of a station wagon with a tree tied to the top. It makes me think of the movie Christmas Vacation and always, always makes me laugh. For a few Christmas's in a row ex bought me a Waterford dated ornament as a gift - it was special to me - the act of doing that, I looked forward to seeing what he'd picked out every year - he did it five times and then he stopped, never did it again and a few years after that he left. Son surprised me one January a few years ago with a beautiful blue dated Waterford ornament - he and girlfriend had been shopping at the outlet mall in Myrtle Beach and saw it - he remembered how much I treasure the ones I have so he bought me one. It was the sweetest, most thoughtful thing... it made me cry.
Last picture in that row is of my foot... yeah yeah I know a little odd huh? I took that picture this morning after my shower... nothing like smooth, lotioned legs to make you feel fresh as a daisy. I was wrapped in a towel but I guess you didn't need to know that (and I wonder why people laugh when I talk about joining a convent). But ... I always paint my toes - always... no self respecting southern woman would go out into public without her toes properly painted. Right now they are a rich shade of burgundy but I often will just do a French pedicure on them in the summer. Having nice toes makes me feel pretty, makes me feel pulled together, and I happen to think perfectly painted toes are sexy... or at least it makes me feel sexy... so they're always done. And the toe ring... that's the one piece of jewelry I always wear. I bought it at my favorite jewelry store... I thought it was different and quite unusual - it was a tiny little splurge that made me happy.
So there you have it... I could add more I suppose - sunflowers, rain, autumn leaves, sweet tea, BBQ from Henry's, crab cakes - but I won't right now... I think the above is a nice little sprinkling of me... besides the sunflowers/rain/leaves/food thing isn't terribly materialistic now is it?
9.11.2008
Autumn...
Don't Think I Don't Think About It
It's the time of the year I start looking for the slightest change of color in the leaves - it's sort of a secret thing with me... while driving the back roads to and from each destination I'll look at the tip tops of the trees... searching for the first little hint... the first almost imperceptible blush. It's happening and I'm honestly surprised it's started so soon this year... I guess the lack of rain all summer has contributed to the early arrival of color. Perhaps the trees struggled all summer waiting on water, and getting very little, finally made it to a point in their cycle where they can start letting go a little - a relief of some sort - I do that... say "if I can just make it to this day then it will all be ok." It's not an over whelming change at the moment so I can't really get too excited just yet. It's still really warm too - although we have had some cooler weather the last few days with the rain. {Ahhhh rain... such a beautifully romantic thing (long sigh).} It's this time of the year I start dreaming of a trip to the mountains - to hike the trails and enjoy the slight chill in the air. I've only really taken a few trips to the mountains - none of which were more than a few days - but they call to me in the fall, beckoning me to come....
In November of 2003 the family took a trip to Blowing Rock... son was a junior in high school that fall and thinking about college. The (now ex) mother in law decided we should all go to Blowing Rock and visit Appalachian State. She had always wanted the ex to go to school there and she thought it might be a good place for son. (ex) Father in law's boss owns a house in Blowing Rock - right on the side of the mountain - and he graciously allowed us all to stay there for the weekend. This place is amazing - not sure I can begin to describe how gorgeous it truly is - all wood, wrap around deck, three levels, a stream running along the back of the house, huge stone fireplace, kick ass kitchen. The master suit is on the third level. It has it's own gas fire place and a huge spa tub in the bathroom. It's the perfect place to go in the fall... being there was like being in heaven.
This was 2003 - right smack dab between affairs - maybe... who knows. He could have been with the second woman by then... it's possible... they both have admitted knowing each other that far back although he's been very cryptic and evasive about when the affair really started. This all stands out to me very vividly - this trip. Ex behaved in typical fashion... distant - mind somewhere else... there but not there if you know what I mean. Parts of this confused me - here we were in this beautiful place... lots of possibilities for romantic little moments: walks, snuggles, soaks in the tub - and he was not the least bit receptive to any of it. He really kept to himself... a lot. I was going to take son on an official tour of the campus but the men - ex, son and grandfather, decided they would just drive through the campus. In the end it was a mistake to let them go alone... they literally just drove the car around the campus and left, learning nothing at all about the school or what it had to offer - oh well... that spring when he wanted to visit another college I made sure it was a scheduled tour - and wow, low and behold guess what? It made a huge difference... who would have thought?!?
What I've been thinking about though, as the leaves change and the mountains whisper, is how wonderful that trip was - not because of the ex but in spite of the ex. I really enjoyed every moment of that weekend. We all went hiking on Grandfather Mountain... we ate at some wonderful restaurants... I soaked myself in that spa tub... we shopped in quaint little stores... I sat on the cushy leather couch in front of the fire, sipping a glass of wine and reading a book.... I watched the sun set and listened to the wind blow through the beautifully colored leaves on the tallest trees I'd ever seen.... I fell asleep in the warm cozy bed to the sound of a crackling fire - all unaffected by the ex's aloof behavior. It's a moment in time I can look back on and realize I was letting go. I was letting go of any expectations, letting go of any desires - I didn't let his neglect and emotional absence dictate whether or not I experienced something joyful and abundant. I didn't tip toe around, I didn't look to him to set the pace or the mood. I enjoyed myself - just simply enjoyed myself. I found my own wonder and beauty in the moment. That's what the mountains whisper to me I think... what calls me to return - the knowledge I can do that... find in myself the strength and gentleness to sooth and calm my soul.
In November of 2003 the family took a trip to Blowing Rock... son was a junior in high school that fall and thinking about college. The (now ex) mother in law decided we should all go to Blowing Rock and visit Appalachian State. She had always wanted the ex to go to school there and she thought it might be a good place for son. (ex) Father in law's boss owns a house in Blowing Rock - right on the side of the mountain - and he graciously allowed us all to stay there for the weekend. This place is amazing - not sure I can begin to describe how gorgeous it truly is - all wood, wrap around deck, three levels, a stream running along the back of the house, huge stone fireplace, kick ass kitchen. The master suit is on the third level. It has it's own gas fire place and a huge spa tub in the bathroom. It's the perfect place to go in the fall... being there was like being in heaven.
This was 2003 - right smack dab between affairs - maybe... who knows. He could have been with the second woman by then... it's possible... they both have admitted knowing each other that far back although he's been very cryptic and evasive about when the affair really started. This all stands out to me very vividly - this trip. Ex behaved in typical fashion... distant - mind somewhere else... there but not there if you know what I mean. Parts of this confused me - here we were in this beautiful place... lots of possibilities for romantic little moments: walks, snuggles, soaks in the tub - and he was not the least bit receptive to any of it. He really kept to himself... a lot. I was going to take son on an official tour of the campus but the men - ex, son and grandfather, decided they would just drive through the campus. In the end it was a mistake to let them go alone... they literally just drove the car around the campus and left, learning nothing at all about the school or what it had to offer - oh well... that spring when he wanted to visit another college I made sure it was a scheduled tour - and wow, low and behold guess what? It made a huge difference... who would have thought?!?
What I've been thinking about though, as the leaves change and the mountains whisper, is how wonderful that trip was - not because of the ex but in spite of the ex. I really enjoyed every moment of that weekend. We all went hiking on Grandfather Mountain... we ate at some wonderful restaurants... I soaked myself in that spa tub... we shopped in quaint little stores... I sat on the cushy leather couch in front of the fire, sipping a glass of wine and reading a book.... I watched the sun set and listened to the wind blow through the beautifully colored leaves on the tallest trees I'd ever seen.... I fell asleep in the warm cozy bed to the sound of a crackling fire - all unaffected by the ex's aloof behavior. It's a moment in time I can look back on and realize I was letting go. I was letting go of any expectations, letting go of any desires - I didn't let his neglect and emotional absence dictate whether or not I experienced something joyful and abundant. I didn't tip toe around, I didn't look to him to set the pace or the mood. I enjoyed myself - just simply enjoyed myself. I found my own wonder and beauty in the moment. That's what the mountains whisper to me I think... what calls me to return - the knowledge I can do that... find in myself the strength and gentleness to sooth and calm my soul.
9.10.2008
D-I-V-O-R-C-E
I have flashes of memories from when I was little - maybe that's normal... not sure... I have a terribly good memory - almost scary good sometimes but I don't usually share that fact with many people. I remember being younger than six and listening to a little record player as it played 45's by the Osmonds, I remember the Ford Fairlane my folks had - how it felt in the summer heat and what it smelled like and what my brother's little car seat looked like. My mom was huge into 50's music... she had records of the Platters she would play and I can still remember some of the words to their biggest hits. She also listened to country music, but this was 60's country music - Conway Twitty, Dolly Parton, Waylon and Willie - and I remember the song Tammy Wynette sang about divorce... "My d-i-v-o-r-c-e became final today...." I can remember being in that car and hearing that song on the radio... such a long long time ago.
And now here I am - 42... divorced... starting life over and it's hard... God it sucks being alone. At this point in my life it should be easier. I should be looking forward to slowing down - one kid's almost gone, another a teenager... this should be the point in my life when I have the time and the energy to put into another person, time and energy to put into me... and it's not happening. Instead I am left trying to figure out how to fix everything - make it all right - take care of everyone and everything. And life just ain't cooperating... damn - don't you hate it when that happens? It's September and I am thinking about the potential trip to NYC for daughter and dance, Christmas presents, the cost of recital costumes, tuition and text books and meal plans for spring 09, about finding a way to make it all work... and now I don't even have a selfish little alternate world for me... that dissipated some many months ago. I loved being able to escape temporarily into this other life - this other world that was exciting and passionate and nothing like I'd ever known... and yet it all crumbled... POOF! Gone in the blink of an eye - and not that I thought it was a lifetime thing - not that I thought he was the one... but I at least thought he was the one for right then... yet he's moved on... sorta... new girlfriend - yet he still turns to me for some reason... to prove something to himself maybe - I really don't know... really can't quite figure it out. And stupid me, I still answer the phone. But a day will come when I won't and I know this... I've told him this and I don't think he believes me - but I know myself and at some point a day will come and I'll see the name on the phone calling and I'll just put the phone down without answering it and that will be that - done... another chapter in my life finished... one chapter closer to the end. But I digress.
So as I was saying, here I am at at 42 - I don't want back what I had - the marriage is gone, over, dead and I am ok with that... it sure beats the lie I was living. So now I am trying to learn to live alone - with myself (and the kids but that's not the same) - singularly. It's not fun, not for the faint at heart and I see so many of my friends, people in the same position, jumping into relationships quickly - terrified of being alone, terrified of losing anymore time, terrified of the silence in their own heads. It sucks being alone... just sucks... and I find I'm trying not to fight the "sound of silence," I'm working hard to become comfortable with it. A really brilliant person said to me part of the problem we face when a marriage ends and we find ourselves alone is if we got married young (which I did) we never had a chance to really define who we are on our own first before sharing ourselves with someone else. Very wise words I think - I guess now I'm trying to define who I am - picking up almost where I left off 21 years ago. I wonder if it would have been easier to have done it then? It sure isn't easy right now. But it's good to be on my own... to figure this out without adding another to the mix - it's a smart thing really. So for now it's me... all me... all the time... and perhaps when the time is right I'll meet someone whose time is right too.
I keep reminding myself I am divorced... divorced, divorced, divorced. I say the word trying to be comfortable in the coat of divorce... I am no longer trying it on for size - it's what I wear now, I purchased it, paid for it with my heartache and tears - but I can't let it be what defines me. It can't be my "signature" piece or "signature" color - it's only an accessory... one little silver charm on the ever growing charm bracelet chronicling my life. It's part of me, part of my history, forever a chapter in my story. It took me a long time to get it, to understand why and how it happened - not an easy lesson to learn - but I've gotten it, I think. I've got the kids, and they are doing well... my family has been very supportive - supportive beyond my wildest dreams... I have great friends here at home - some really wonderful gals - sometimes we laugh and sometimes we bitch but we're always kind to each other (and maybe they'll succeed in setting my up with that good looking single dad - wink). I've made some good friends in cyberspace - a support group of people who've had the same struggles I've had and their insight has been invaluable. I've rediscovered writing and music... maybe soon other things will follow too, gardening maybe. I feel blessed in so many ways... and I try to focus on that when difficult moments engulf me. What does that old Billie Holliday song say? God bless the child that's got his own... maybe that's the whole point... getting it on my own... being on my own. Grandma always said, "God never gives ya more than you can handle." Many a time I thought the old woman was batty... but maybe she was right.
And now here I am - 42... divorced... starting life over and it's hard... God it sucks being alone. At this point in my life it should be easier. I should be looking forward to slowing down - one kid's almost gone, another a teenager... this should be the point in my life when I have the time and the energy to put into another person, time and energy to put into me... and it's not happening. Instead I am left trying to figure out how to fix everything - make it all right - take care of everyone and everything. And life just ain't cooperating... damn - don't you hate it when that happens? It's September and I am thinking about the potential trip to NYC for daughter and dance, Christmas presents, the cost of recital costumes, tuition and text books and meal plans for spring 09, about finding a way to make it all work... and now I don't even have a selfish little alternate world for me... that dissipated some many months ago. I loved being able to escape temporarily into this other life - this other world that was exciting and passionate and nothing like I'd ever known... and yet it all crumbled... POOF! Gone in the blink of an eye - and not that I thought it was a lifetime thing - not that I thought he was the one... but I at least thought he was the one for right then... yet he's moved on... sorta... new girlfriend - yet he still turns to me for some reason... to prove something to himself maybe - I really don't know... really can't quite figure it out. And stupid me, I still answer the phone. But a day will come when I won't and I know this... I've told him this and I don't think he believes me - but I know myself and at some point a day will come and I'll see the name on the phone calling and I'll just put the phone down without answering it and that will be that - done... another chapter in my life finished... one chapter closer to the end. But I digress.
So as I was saying, here I am at at 42 - I don't want back what I had - the marriage is gone, over, dead and I am ok with that... it sure beats the lie I was living. So now I am trying to learn to live alone - with myself (and the kids but that's not the same) - singularly. It's not fun, not for the faint at heart and I see so many of my friends, people in the same position, jumping into relationships quickly - terrified of being alone, terrified of losing anymore time, terrified of the silence in their own heads. It sucks being alone... just sucks... and I find I'm trying not to fight the "sound of silence," I'm working hard to become comfortable with it. A really brilliant person said to me part of the problem we face when a marriage ends and we find ourselves alone is if we got married young (which I did) we never had a chance to really define who we are on our own first before sharing ourselves with someone else. Very wise words I think - I guess now I'm trying to define who I am - picking up almost where I left off 21 years ago. I wonder if it would have been easier to have done it then? It sure isn't easy right now. But it's good to be on my own... to figure this out without adding another to the mix - it's a smart thing really. So for now it's me... all me... all the time... and perhaps when the time is right I'll meet someone whose time is right too.
I keep reminding myself I am divorced... divorced, divorced, divorced. I say the word trying to be comfortable in the coat of divorce... I am no longer trying it on for size - it's what I wear now, I purchased it, paid for it with my heartache and tears - but I can't let it be what defines me. It can't be my "signature" piece or "signature" color - it's only an accessory... one little silver charm on the ever growing charm bracelet chronicling my life. It's part of me, part of my history, forever a chapter in my story. It took me a long time to get it, to understand why and how it happened - not an easy lesson to learn - but I've gotten it, I think. I've got the kids, and they are doing well... my family has been very supportive - supportive beyond my wildest dreams... I have great friends here at home - some really wonderful gals - sometimes we laugh and sometimes we bitch but we're always kind to each other (and maybe they'll succeed in setting my up with that good looking single dad - wink). I've made some good friends in cyberspace - a support group of people who've had the same struggles I've had and their insight has been invaluable. I've rediscovered writing and music... maybe soon other things will follow too, gardening maybe. I feel blessed in so many ways... and I try to focus on that when difficult moments engulf me. What does that old Billie Holliday song say? God bless the child that's got his own... maybe that's the whole point... getting it on my own... being on my own. Grandma always said, "God never gives ya more than you can handle." Many a time I thought the old woman was batty... but maybe she was right.
Hootie
I hardly listen to the radio in the car anymore. In the mornings it is mostly talk anyway and that's a frustrating thing when all I really want to do is listen to music and sing. So I pop in a CD and take off and daughter sits beside me and puts in her IPod because she doesn't want to listen to what I'm listening to - she wants to hear Jesse McCartney these days since she's discovered the wonderful world of teen love. I listen to what I want because I figure it's my car and I make the car payments - so there. My son believes me to be behind the times because I don't have an IPod - it's easier Momma... it makes more sense Momma... you don't have to keep burning CDs because all your music is right there Momma. He fails to see, however, that an IPod is an extravagance I can not afford myself right now. "Santa" brought him a Nano several years ago and daughter bought a video one last year after requesting money for her birthday from everyone. I don't receive extravagant gifts anymore (not that I ever really received a lot of them to begin with), so until the time my sugar daddy arrives I'm just shit out of luck. I'm wary of extravagance though - every time my ex would go overboard it was because he was feeling guilty. I didn't know at the time but looking back now it all kinda correlates. Our last Christmas together he gave me diamond earrings - a carats worth - and now I know he'd been seeing someone else the whole time. Don't think I don't wear the earrings though, cause I do, but they are nice little reminders. Thanks honey.
The latest CD rotation has Hootie and the Blowfish currently on my play list. Lots of people 'dis on ol' Hootie these days and I just don't get that. Some folks are just fair weather fans I suppose. When I was at Carolina (THE USC for those who don't know) the Hootie members where students there too... they started playing in bars around campus and then years later hit it big. Ex and I saw them in concert probably eleven years ago - we went with another couple and I had the greatest time. The concert was outside, another local grown band was there. The music was great, the atmosphere was great, the company was great and ex looked like he'd rather have been in a prison camp at the Hanoi Hilton. Oh well... I have fond memories of it. Hootie doesn't play a lot of concerts these days but I'd love to go see them again sometime... they really are great in concert - take a listen: Goodbye. Darius Rucker has a fantastic voice - and once again I will say it's my ball, I make the rules, and if I say so then it's true.
But I was thinking back while listening to Hootie to the time after the ex left during the first affair - I did something for myself... an indulgence of sorts. I bought two Hootie and the Blowfish CDs - ones I didn't have because I'd let a lot of what I liked fall by the wayside. A tiny indulgence I know but for me an indulgence none the less. I bought them on the Internet and when I would drive I would listen to them and just get lost in the songs. When he left the second time I did the same thing - I bought two more I didn't have. One was a CD of newly recorded stuff and one was from a live concert they did in Charleston... Live in Charleston is a great CD... if people don't know Hootie that's a definite one to check out - it's a mix of their stuff and the covers they used to do while singing in bars around USC. The energy in the music is fun and funky - it always makes me feel good - even the more mellow, soft, heartache stuff.
There's not a whole lot of great Hootie to link to on YouTube but their website is playing the Live in Charleston CD....
The latest CD rotation has Hootie and the Blowfish currently on my play list. Lots of people 'dis on ol' Hootie these days and I just don't get that. Some folks are just fair weather fans I suppose. When I was at Carolina (THE USC for those who don't know) the Hootie members where students there too... they started playing in bars around campus and then years later hit it big. Ex and I saw them in concert probably eleven years ago - we went with another couple and I had the greatest time. The concert was outside, another local grown band was there. The music was great, the atmosphere was great, the company was great and ex looked like he'd rather have been in a prison camp at the Hanoi Hilton. Oh well... I have fond memories of it. Hootie doesn't play a lot of concerts these days but I'd love to go see them again sometime... they really are great in concert - take a listen: Goodbye. Darius Rucker has a fantastic voice - and once again I will say it's my ball, I make the rules, and if I say so then it's true.
But I was thinking back while listening to Hootie to the time after the ex left during the first affair - I did something for myself... an indulgence of sorts. I bought two Hootie and the Blowfish CDs - ones I didn't have because I'd let a lot of what I liked fall by the wayside. A tiny indulgence I know but for me an indulgence none the less. I bought them on the Internet and when I would drive I would listen to them and just get lost in the songs. When he left the second time I did the same thing - I bought two more I didn't have. One was a CD of newly recorded stuff and one was from a live concert they did in Charleston... Live in Charleston is a great CD... if people don't know Hootie that's a definite one to check out - it's a mix of their stuff and the covers they used to do while singing in bars around USC. The energy in the music is fun and funky - it always makes me feel good - even the more mellow, soft, heartache stuff.
There's not a whole lot of great Hootie to link to on YouTube but their website is playing the Live in Charleston CD....
9.07.2008
More...
I was going to say I would refrain from linking something in this entry but ya know, I'm not gonna make any promises - promises always come back to bite someone in the ass, don't they -sometimes it's the promisor, sometimes the promisee, but always someone... so I won't promise 'cause in truth I've not had lots of luck with promises - we'll make this a promise free zone. I'm the Belle of this here Ball after all and I have the password and the tiara to prove it. So anyway, this morning I was getting ready for church, the house quiet since daughter was picked up by grandfather for Sunday school. Of course my mind is working the whole time - thinking - because for a moment, just a tiny moment, I'm alone with myself and I can follow a thought to some semblance of an end. It's a rare and beautiful thing, being able to do that, and my mind gets giddy with the possibilities - but for some reason I settled on a thought I'd had two years ago after the ex left and the mind kinda stayed there. The thought was about suicide. Now wait - no need to call a hot line or anything - no need to panic. I'll explain...
It was hard after he left... really hard, because I knew that was it - I knew it would never go back to anything resembling a marriage again. I figured he might come back, he might try to eventually pick up the mess of a dysfunctional marriage and keep going... never really making it better, never really attempting to clear the clutter left behind by all the pain, just maybe play "pretend it never happened" and if you knew him you'd probably agree with me. For a moment I thought maybe I could do that too - pretend - because the alternative was something I just couldn't wrap my mind around... he, of course, had no long term plan, no real goal in any of it. He just thought by leaving me he was somehow being honorable because he was screwing around behind my back. Using ex logic, if he left me he wouldn't have to tell me about it and then I wouldn't know... he'd be saving me - saving me ha!- and it would all be ok because after all he would have left - he would have made the sacrifice and in his mind that made it all justifiable... ya see? Neat and tidy. It's really twisted, the ex logic, because he portrayed himself as willingly taking the bad guy role (even though he didn't believe he was), falling on the sword by being the one to pull the plug on a loveless marriage - in reality though I think he saw it as a naturally progressive thing... we'd grown apart and he just didn't love me anymore... he felt he was doing me a favor. Gee thanks - whatever helps you screw your skank with a clear conscience. (oh did I type that? sorry....)
So here I'm left, what do I do? And I have people telling me what I should do, and people lying to me, and kids who need me and I couldn't think... I couldn't fathom what my next step would be - all I knew was I had to go to work and I had to feed the kids and I had to pay the bills and I had to make sure nothing was disrupted. I had to _______ (fill in the blank). I couldn't see the future, I just couldn't imagine it, and that's when the idea formed inside my head - back in the dark recesses where people don't like to even admit exist, the place we don't tell other people about... this seedy little idea whispered in a hushed voice, "you could kill yourself." And my mind stopped cold in its tracks and thought, "yeah. I could." But logical mind said, "nah, you can't... think of the kids, think of the pain, too much work yet to do... you're all they have." And logical mind was right. Logical mind is sensible, she doesn't just jump into things, no spontaneously silly stuff for her, no sir. But that voice lurking in the shadows whispered again, "ok... but... once you did that, once you had the girl off on a life of her own... you could do it then." And I thought, "yeah... I could, couldn't I?" And that was that. I kept that thought... I didn't take it any farther than that... I had no plan, no method, no definitive date - just the idea - and whenever I felt like I couldn't go on, couldn't keep up the pace and the face I would walk to that dark alley where seedy idea hung out and listen for the voice and he'd whisper to me... and he'd reminded me there was an end point... a finish line.... Yeah Yeah.... the ultimate: a permanent solution to a temporary problem... yeah gotcha... logical mind knew this but seedy idea shouted, "shut up!" and seedy idea won - for a while... but eventually logical mind took over again and those thoughts became fewer and fewer and I didn't need to seek that comforting idea anymore - it was folly and I knew that.
Now my latest plan has been this: when daughter goes to college (in five years) I will join a convent. This makes people laugh - the idea of me in a convent wearing a nun's habit - there have even been naughty comments made about it... suggestive comments, I really have no idea why (wink wink) but hey... I'm all for making someone smile - but it occurred to me this morning while rambling around inside my mind that the convent gig would be no different than the suicide gig - it's just a matter of semantics. I don't mean that being a nun would be so horribly painful I'd just as soon be dead but I do think being a nun would require me to disregard and essentially kill off certain parts of me that make me, in essence, me - and I don't just mean sex... although I'd really like to do that again at some point in my life. What I long for though really requires the freedom to form connections with other people, to form, hopefully, perhaps one day, a lasting, loving connection with another person. I couldn't do that as a nun... but the nun thing is a better idea to retreat to than the suicide one... so maybe I'm learning... moving forward just a tiny bit at a time... who knows - I could just be full of crap. I also wonder if they'd let me wear the tiara at the convent? That right there could be a deal breaker 'cause I do so love to wear that tiara - I'm serious... if you don't believe me ask the ladies at the dance studio. Oh - and remember I made no promises.... lol... the song is what I was going for so disregard the goofy video footage – unless, of course, Xena Warrior Princess does it for you - and if that's the case who am I to judge?
It was hard after he left... really hard, because I knew that was it - I knew it would never go back to anything resembling a marriage again. I figured he might come back, he might try to eventually pick up the mess of a dysfunctional marriage and keep going... never really making it better, never really attempting to clear the clutter left behind by all the pain, just maybe play "pretend it never happened" and if you knew him you'd probably agree with me. For a moment I thought maybe I could do that too - pretend - because the alternative was something I just couldn't wrap my mind around... he, of course, had no long term plan, no real goal in any of it. He just thought by leaving me he was somehow being honorable because he was screwing around behind my back. Using ex logic, if he left me he wouldn't have to tell me about it and then I wouldn't know... he'd be saving me - saving me ha!- and it would all be ok because after all he would have left - he would have made the sacrifice and in his mind that made it all justifiable... ya see? Neat and tidy. It's really twisted, the ex logic, because he portrayed himself as willingly taking the bad guy role (even though he didn't believe he was), falling on the sword by being the one to pull the plug on a loveless marriage - in reality though I think he saw it as a naturally progressive thing... we'd grown apart and he just didn't love me anymore... he felt he was doing me a favor. Gee thanks - whatever helps you screw your skank with a clear conscience. (oh did I type that? sorry....)
So here I'm left, what do I do? And I have people telling me what I should do, and people lying to me, and kids who need me and I couldn't think... I couldn't fathom what my next step would be - all I knew was I had to go to work and I had to feed the kids and I had to pay the bills and I had to make sure nothing was disrupted. I had to _______ (fill in the blank). I couldn't see the future, I just couldn't imagine it, and that's when the idea formed inside my head - back in the dark recesses where people don't like to even admit exist, the place we don't tell other people about... this seedy little idea whispered in a hushed voice, "you could kill yourself." And my mind stopped cold in its tracks and thought, "yeah. I could." But logical mind said, "nah, you can't... think of the kids, think of the pain, too much work yet to do... you're all they have." And logical mind was right. Logical mind is sensible, she doesn't just jump into things, no spontaneously silly stuff for her, no sir. But that voice lurking in the shadows whispered again, "ok... but... once you did that, once you had the girl off on a life of her own... you could do it then." And I thought, "yeah... I could, couldn't I?" And that was that. I kept that thought... I didn't take it any farther than that... I had no plan, no method, no definitive date - just the idea - and whenever I felt like I couldn't go on, couldn't keep up the pace and the face I would walk to that dark alley where seedy idea hung out and listen for the voice and he'd whisper to me... and he'd reminded me there was an end point... a finish line.... Yeah Yeah.... the ultimate: a permanent solution to a temporary problem... yeah gotcha... logical mind knew this but seedy idea shouted, "shut up!" and seedy idea won - for a while... but eventually logical mind took over again and those thoughts became fewer and fewer and I didn't need to seek that comforting idea anymore - it was folly and I knew that.
Now my latest plan has been this: when daughter goes to college (in five years) I will join a convent. This makes people laugh - the idea of me in a convent wearing a nun's habit - there have even been naughty comments made about it... suggestive comments, I really have no idea why (wink wink) but hey... I'm all for making someone smile - but it occurred to me this morning while rambling around inside my mind that the convent gig would be no different than the suicide gig - it's just a matter of semantics. I don't mean that being a nun would be so horribly painful I'd just as soon be dead but I do think being a nun would require me to disregard and essentially kill off certain parts of me that make me, in essence, me - and I don't just mean sex... although I'd really like to do that again at some point in my life. What I long for though really requires the freedom to form connections with other people, to form, hopefully, perhaps one day, a lasting, loving connection with another person. I couldn't do that as a nun... but the nun thing is a better idea to retreat to than the suicide one... so maybe I'm learning... moving forward just a tiny bit at a time... who knows - I could just be full of crap. I also wonder if they'd let me wear the tiara at the convent? That right there could be a deal breaker 'cause I do so love to wear that tiara - I'm serious... if you don't believe me ask the ladies at the dance studio. Oh - and remember I made no promises.... lol... the song is what I was going for so disregard the goofy video footage – unless, of course, Xena Warrior Princess does it for you - and if that's the case who am I to judge?
9.06.2008
On a Roll
I taught myself how to do something today ... a minor accomplishment for most I'm sure but I'm terribly proud of myself... lol... I learned how to make a link open a new window... cool huh? Yeah, that's what I thought... lukewarm response - but hey, that's ok. It made me happy and that's all that matters here at Belle's little ball. Right? Right!
I like music... it's fun stuff... always capable of mirroring an emotional state. Some stuff I can't listen to right now... it makes me unbelievably sad - reminds me of another time and place, a loss that's fading but I'm not sure when that music will ever be ok for me to listen to again - it was so personal, evoking such a connection, mimicking a feeling I'm not sure now was ever real. Listening to that music now reminds me of what I felt, how desired and wanted I was, and it reminds me of just how disposable I ended up being. I hate my own stupidity sometimes. It's to him and my stupidity I dedicate this: Angels of the Silences. Good thing he knows nothing about this blog... he's full of himself enough as it is.
I have a wonderful friend who sends me music... it makes him happy to do so, it makes me happy to receive it. He's struggling (love ya darlin') and I think sharing the music helps him somehow... gives him a connection, a way to share himself, a way to be himself - no repercussions, no fears, no rejection. He's such a huge music fan - such eclectic taste... and a few months ago I was feeling particularly crappy, had lost a lot, all still really fresh, and he sent me a song before I went to bed... a Sony and Cher classic - All I Ever Need Is You - and that song got me through. I can still listen to it today and it makes me smile - reminds me of how loved and valued I felt at that moment. For a little while I felt like it was all gonna be ok... I was gonna be ok. I'm so happy he's my friend. So my dear darlin' I dedicate it backatcha!
And then there is this - First Time - a reminder of someone special... which is a whole other story...
I like music... it's fun stuff... always capable of mirroring an emotional state. Some stuff I can't listen to right now... it makes me unbelievably sad - reminds me of another time and place, a loss that's fading but I'm not sure when that music will ever be ok for me to listen to again - it was so personal, evoking such a connection, mimicking a feeling I'm not sure now was ever real. Listening to that music now reminds me of what I felt, how desired and wanted I was, and it reminds me of just how disposable I ended up being. I hate my own stupidity sometimes. It's to him and my stupidity I dedicate this: Angels of the Silences. Good thing he knows nothing about this blog... he's full of himself enough as it is.
I have a wonderful friend who sends me music... it makes him happy to do so, it makes me happy to receive it. He's struggling (love ya darlin') and I think sharing the music helps him somehow... gives him a connection, a way to share himself, a way to be himself - no repercussions, no fears, no rejection. He's such a huge music fan - such eclectic taste... and a few months ago I was feeling particularly crappy, had lost a lot, all still really fresh, and he sent me a song before I went to bed... a Sony and Cher classic - All I Ever Need Is You - and that song got me through. I can still listen to it today and it makes me smile - reminds me of how loved and valued I felt at that moment. For a little while I felt like it was all gonna be ok... I was gonna be ok. I'm so happy he's my friend. So my dear darlin' I dedicate it backatcha!
And then there is this - First Time - a reminder of someone special... which is a whole other story...
Right of Passage
Ok... Gotta set the mood … Skyway Avenue
Now this may ramble so hang with me...
I've been blessed in many ways, especially where my children are concerned. They are great kids - they really are... smart and funny... kind, friendly and considerate. I really couldn't ask for more where they are concerned. They've been able to find niches for themselves - things they are good at they enjoy doing. For son it was football, for daughter it's been dance and I am more and more everyday a more firm believer every child should have some type of activity they love. It shouldn't be a forced thing, you kinda gotta follow the kid's lead on that... if he or she expresses an interest in something then ya check it out... let the kid see if she likes it and if she does then you once again follow the lead and make it possible. But there comes a lesson in it all too... if a child wants to try, say baseball, then the child commits to that season of baseball... no dropping out in the middle - no missing practices or games, no half assed slack approach - and that means the parent(s) too... if at the end of the season baseball doesn't ring his bell then by all means, don't force more baseball - move on to the next activity and see if that does. But realize and understand every moment, every activity, every encounter is an opportunity to teach something - responsibility, work ethic, pride, commitment, self confidence, joy, friendship, grace, humbleness, kindness, determination, self discipline - life skills - ya know?
Now this may ramble so hang with me...
I've been blessed in many ways, especially where my children are concerned. They are great kids - they really are... smart and funny... kind, friendly and considerate. I really couldn't ask for more where they are concerned. They've been able to find niches for themselves - things they are good at they enjoy doing. For son it was football, for daughter it's been dance and I am more and more everyday a more firm believer every child should have some type of activity they love. It shouldn't be a forced thing, you kinda gotta follow the kid's lead on that... if he or she expresses an interest in something then ya check it out... let the kid see if she likes it and if she does then you once again follow the lead and make it possible. But there comes a lesson in it all too... if a child wants to try, say baseball, then the child commits to that season of baseball... no dropping out in the middle - no missing practices or games, no half assed slack approach - and that means the parent(s) too... if at the end of the season baseball doesn't ring his bell then by all means, don't force more baseball - move on to the next activity and see if that does. But realize and understand every moment, every activity, every encounter is an opportunity to teach something - responsibility, work ethic, pride, commitment, self confidence, joy, friendship, grace, humbleness, kindness, determination, self discipline - life skills - ya know?
Daughter, who will soon be referred to in this blog as Ms. B, has a rigorous dance schedule - seems every year she adds more classes but every year she becomes more focused and committed to dance. It's all been her and last spring was a real turning point. Every spring prior to this one she would decide she wanted to cut back on dance - or stop dancing all together - and she'd say that for a few weeks before she'd come back and say she wanted to keep dancing after all. Last spring when I asked her about taking dance this fall she looked at me like I had two heads and stated of course she wanted to take dance, asked me if was I crazy and that was that. Discussion over.
Next interlude – Almost
So dance started full time this week (after three weeks of nothing but company practice) - and since dance is a 35 mile round trip and gas prices are so high I take a book and read or visit with the other mothers or the ladies who work there... this is B's sixth year at the studio so we've formed friendships, B and I - a real God send the last few years, these friends. Anyway Wednesday was a busy day, and being the first week back for dance the studio was chaotic - little girls everywhere, moms everywhere, a few dads thrown in for good measure (dads really do that huh - wow). It was wild and busy and fun. Being a veteran at this I took a seat, opened my book and started reading. Soon another mother came in, sat down - another mother asked her a question, she didn't know the answer so they both looked at me... no, I said - I don't think her class is in studio A, the bigger girls are in there now... her class might be in studio B - that one over there, oh no problem, glad to help, etc... and the first mother asked me, is Ms. B in the older class? Yes, yes she is. Oh, good, is Ms. B going to assist in any classes this year. Yes, she's assisting between her classes on Thursday. Oh, darn... she won't be assisting in K's class this year then will she? No, I guess not. Oh K will be so disappointed, you see we just love Ms. B. Oh? (laughing). Oh yes... when we bought dance clothes K said she had to have clothes like Ms. B wore... and we have to wear our hair like Ms. B does and when we watch the recital DVD she only wants to watch her own dances and Ms. B's dances... she wants to dance like Ms. B. - she loves her Ms. B. She continued to tell me what a great girl B is, how patient and kind she is with the little girls, what a good dancer she is and how when she dances you can see her love and dedication to dance. I wanted to cry - it was so sweet, someone giving such lovely praise to my daughter.
Third interlude – Vulnerable
Driving home that night I told B all about the conversation. She remembered little K and said sweet things about her... talking about how much fun assisting the little girls can be... and I pointed out to her (as I have in the past) that the younger girls look up to her... they watch what she does, they want to emulate her - and she needs to be aware and behave accordingly - she laughed it off, but I think she understands. She's growing so quickly... experiencing so much... changing, exploring her independence... it's fascinating to watch - really quite a beautiful thing - the butterfly emerging from its chrysalis... which leads me to this - the whole point of this blog entry...
One of the dance moms and her daughter invited B and me to a concert last night... all the songs playing in this little blog entry are from the bands we saw. The main draw though was this guy – Just So You Know. I watched my daughter scream and dance and sing, oblivious to the fact I was there, and it was just... wonderful. She was so happy, acting like the new teen she is... it was a privilege watching her first crush develop, seeing her smile... gosh what fun! I hope, as she continues to grow, she can keep some of the wonderment and magic she felt last night. For me it was one more little moment to hold in my heart, one more little mental snapshot to add to the scrapbook in my mind. Parents worry about their kids - it's what we do... and I've especially worried the last few years with the divorce and the absence of her dad... worried she'll miss something, some important skill or relationship or developmental milestone... but for now... right this moment... she seems to be good - happy and content, and I'll take that. Gee, sometimes life can be really good, ya know?
9.05.2008
Cherish Is the Word
Let us expound on the word cherish - shall we? I've talked a lot with friends - fellow victims of destruction, fellow recovorees - about what a healthy relationship should be. We know there is something dysfunctional about how we've grown to view the world, we know we chose the partners we did because of some missing something in ourselves - dysfunction seeking dysfunction - and we've worked to figure that all out - worked to become aware and cognizant so we don't make some of the same mistakes again. It's interesting to me the words whole and hole, they both kinda fit in this instance. We have holes we want filled so we can become whole... It's easy to think someone else can fill some kind of hole inside us... it's easy to think a child or a car or a house or anything can fill us... but that's not really how it works. We have to make ourselves whole - fill the hole on our own - that's where the truth lies and sometimes the truth gets ugly - but hey we were never promised a rose garden either now, were we?
Life can't be perfect and that's ok - I get that.... I don't mind the inclement weather that comes with life and with a relationship - the inclement weather really is the test to it all... you either cling to one another, a mutual support, a mutual brace, or you fold. One of you - or both for that matter - doesn't do his or her part, weakens the support, and the whole (ahhh that word) thing falls apart. It can't constantly be one person carrying the load... sometimes it's one, sometimes it's the other and sometimes it's both.... It's a give and take, a ying/yang thing. It's an acknowledgement of the little things, it's an awareness of those things that make us unique and special - it's seeing more in a person than what's on the surface and it's accepting that - all of it - the good and the bad, the endearing and the annoying, it's compromising and acquiescing - it's malleable and mutable - which brings me to cherish... that pretty little word...
Words reflect feelings - I see the word cherish, I say it, I hear it and it feels light and soft and pure - it feels warm and protective - it's not ostentatious or showy... it's not placed on a shelf to be observed. It's a word to hold and touch, feel and experience - and while it has an airy feel, a perceived fragility, it's not breakable - it's just meant to be held loosely, that's all... not grasped and clutched and clung to but held calmly cupped in a relaxed palm. Cherish is a secret smile, a knowing glance, an inviting look... cherish is knowing and accepting someone even if no one else knows it or gets it.
When my ex first started behaving more depressed and detached he started spending a lot of time at his boss's house on the lake - skiing, drinking, hanging out with people - women - and I later learned they would all ride around in the boat and commiserate... and two women especially would tell him that I was the cause of all his unhappiness. I was the problem... me. I wasn't this or I wasn't that - I was too this or too that - I was the problem and as difficult as it was he had to just accept that and I had to just accept that and move on... make his own happiness, do what made him happy... because it sure wasn't me. He sat there complacent - he let them say those things about me, never defended me, never declared me off limits... he just let people trash me. He sold me out.
Since then things have come flooding back at me - like movie flashbacks... all stuff I didn't realize or see at the time... but it all has made me very aware that he never really got me, appreciated who I was, cherished me to begin with... it all came down to one sentence he spoke to his first affair partner about me - "She's a good woman." What a slap in the face - but he thought it such the compliment and the fact he saw it as such makes it just, I don't know... laughable. That's what you say about someone you don't know well, it's a surface observation... and when you cherish someone it goes to the heart... it permeates and transcends the surface. To cherish someone is to appreciate the sacredness of all that person is, in his entirety... it's not about accepting hurt or bad behavior or abuse - it's about finding and valuing the beauty and love within someone else and being grateful and feeling blessed because it's seen in you too, that's all... that's all.
Life can't be perfect and that's ok - I get that.... I don't mind the inclement weather that comes with life and with a relationship - the inclement weather really is the test to it all... you either cling to one another, a mutual support, a mutual brace, or you fold. One of you - or both for that matter - doesn't do his or her part, weakens the support, and the whole (ahhh that word) thing falls apart. It can't constantly be one person carrying the load... sometimes it's one, sometimes it's the other and sometimes it's both.... It's a give and take, a ying/yang thing. It's an acknowledgement of the little things, it's an awareness of those things that make us unique and special - it's seeing more in a person than what's on the surface and it's accepting that - all of it - the good and the bad, the endearing and the annoying, it's compromising and acquiescing - it's malleable and mutable - which brings me to cherish... that pretty little word...
Words reflect feelings - I see the word cherish, I say it, I hear it and it feels light and soft and pure - it feels warm and protective - it's not ostentatious or showy... it's not placed on a shelf to be observed. It's a word to hold and touch, feel and experience - and while it has an airy feel, a perceived fragility, it's not breakable - it's just meant to be held loosely, that's all... not grasped and clutched and clung to but held calmly cupped in a relaxed palm. Cherish is a secret smile, a knowing glance, an inviting look... cherish is knowing and accepting someone even if no one else knows it or gets it.
When my ex first started behaving more depressed and detached he started spending a lot of time at his boss's house on the lake - skiing, drinking, hanging out with people - women - and I later learned they would all ride around in the boat and commiserate... and two women especially would tell him that I was the cause of all his unhappiness. I was the problem... me. I wasn't this or I wasn't that - I was too this or too that - I was the problem and as difficult as it was he had to just accept that and I had to just accept that and move on... make his own happiness, do what made him happy... because it sure wasn't me. He sat there complacent - he let them say those things about me, never defended me, never declared me off limits... he just let people trash me. He sold me out.
Since then things have come flooding back at me - like movie flashbacks... all stuff I didn't realize or see at the time... but it all has made me very aware that he never really got me, appreciated who I was, cherished me to begin with... it all came down to one sentence he spoke to his first affair partner about me - "She's a good woman." What a slap in the face - but he thought it such the compliment and the fact he saw it as such makes it just, I don't know... laughable. That's what you say about someone you don't know well, it's a surface observation... and when you cherish someone it goes to the heart... it permeates and transcends the surface. To cherish someone is to appreciate the sacredness of all that person is, in his entirety... it's not about accepting hurt or bad behavior or abuse - it's about finding and valuing the beauty and love within someone else and being grateful and feeling blessed because it's seen in you too, that's all... that's all.
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