Hello Again…

It’s Been A Few Years…And Many New Chapters

So after several years of anonymity (didn’t want anyone to know whose sad life I was writing about) and years of being away from blogging, I have decided to continue this blog again. For the longest time I have put it off because I was finding myself and trying to distance myself from all the heartache that my ex inflicted and still tries to even today. I didn’t know that I wanted to continue to write on a blog that was once so full of angst and pain when I am in such a different place than I was when I started writing this…what?…seven…maybe eight years ago. But then I decided… we grow. Life changes. And good stuff happens so it occurred to me that it might be helpful for those whose lives feel upended to realize that you will come out on the other side. Different but mostly in a way that improves your life and in ways that you didn’t even know that you needed.

 I am 63 years old now. Since my divorce my ex just took me to court again to reduce support which cost me $25,000 in legal fees. My take…try to avoid the lawyers if you can. As I write this he is in Italy living life to the fullest…but then again so am I. I am just much poorer than he is but I can honestly say that my life is much richer and unlike him… I know who I am and love who I have become. That said, because of my ex’s behavior I still find trusting men to be complex. However, I am learning that trust = consistency over time and when I view it in that manner I find that trust is easier to see and it comes out from those dark shadows. 

Since I stopped writing this blog I have had three love affairs; each lasting about a year and all teaching me lessons that I needed to learn. I don’t regret even one of them (okay, maybe one) and will always treasure this time spent in loving growth. That is not to say that these didn’t come with their own kind of heartache when they ended (the last one occurring just last week) but I can honestly say that I would do it all again for the love I received and experiences I grew from. For instance, from one of these men I learned how to fly fish. Had anyone told me that one day I would be casting while standing in the pouring rain for four hours I would have thought they were crazy. As it is, my kids are convinced that early onset dementia has kicked in but I love this new hobby. I have yet to catch a fish but I am not trying (no hook used) I just like being in nature and trying to get my body to do what I want it to do. I have also tied a few flies of my own.

Two years ago I moved to the coast of Oregon where I live on 1 1/2 acres in a house that I just painted red which is a color that I have always loved. I planted a garden and made a patio within it surrounded by a 7 1/2 foot fence that is suppose to keep my 30+ herd of elk out. I have a mountain lion that comes by at night about twice a year along with a bear that likes to raid my trashcan. I can pick wild mushrooms just by stepping outside my door and I try to walk along the ocean which is one mile from my house once a day. I have created my own little world that I am very happy and comfortable in. While not huge, my house is big enough for me and the things I hold dear. Everything in it reflects where I have been and who I am now. It is very hippie-bohemian just like me. And I am finding peace and actively creating it for myself.

I have also worked on being brave. I have written a children’s book. I also began writing songs about three years ago and thus far have written about 20 of them. Songwriting is such a joy to me and a truly different way that I now have to express myself. In forcing myself to be brave I have taken to playing at open mic night here in town. I hate every minute of it and how I play perfectly at home and bomb while on stage. But hey, that is okay because I am challenging myself and don’t just sit in complacency doing nothing. 

I have also traveled quite a bit in the five years since I left my ex. Mostly with my lovers (Australia, Europe and Norway) I also fished in British Columbia, Canada. Also during MY YEAR OF BEING BRAVE (a year that I dedicated to doing things outside of my comfort zone) I traveled alone to Qatar and the Maldives Islands. I travel cheap. I don’t stay at the best hotels, I visit off season, and I look for incredible deals in order to be able to create the life I envision for myself. Then, occasionally I write stories for magazines about my adventures. (And for those wondering… FYI-I pay my own way and don’t rely on any man) Believe me, I know that I am fortunate to be able to craft this life that I am living mostly on my own terms.

My children are all doing pretty darn well considering the extent of the family implosion. Gracie will graduate from college in May. Paul has a good job and just bought a condo. My other Korean son who has autism earned his associates degree and is now at college in Texas working on his bachelors. My oldest three are doing well as are my grandkids.

Yes, I miss having a permanent partner in my life and I would like to someday find one for I still believe that a passionate/compassionate kind of love can be found. I used to think I couldn’t live a happy life without someone standing by my side but I have come to find that I can. At times, it saddens me to think I might die alone but in reality we all do in one form or another so I am becoming more and more comfortable with that thought. And while I have found in the past few years that I still put others needs before my own I am learning to do it on my terms and in ways that bring satisfaction to me. 

This coming year….2025…I have decided will be spent crafting a YEAR OF OVERFLOWING ABUNDANCE. What this means at the present time… I am not sure. But somewhere in the back of my mind it means being grateful, saying yes to opportunities presented, and seeing the glass as neither half empty or half full but overflowing abundantly. I am also considering a 3 to 6 month stay in another country….something that I have always wanted to do. 

So here’s to you and me. Here’s to the all the possibilities that come our way. Here’s to finding our way out of the dark and into the light. Sometimes I cannot believe who I have become and occasionally I miss who I once was but I would not trade this life that I have created for myself. I hope you feel the same way too!

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Conversation With Paul

I had a conversation with my 17 yo son, Paul, this morning. It broke my heart. He told me that Andre and Gracie where so different since I have been gone. More isolated than usual, sadder… with no spark… but that when we were together for the diving competition last week that the spark returned…all because they were with me and because we were a family again.

He went on to tell me that I was what kept our family balanced and alive. That I was what kept the life in the family. That while I was there they always knew that I had their backs. That they can talk to me but not to their dad. That the love that was felt in our family was because of me and if they knew of love it was because of me and without me there something vital and important is missing from their lives. And that because they knew I am coming to be with them that there is life in the house again.

I cannot think of more beautiful words than what Paul said to me nor could I think of a bigger compliment to pay to a mother. In fact, the tears have arrived once more as I put his words to screen because the decision to leave my children behind to get away from the gaslighter was the hardest decision I ever made. It was so difficult that I stayed for two years after learning all the sorrid details, having $50,000 of our money go to Mistress Vietnam, and being emotionally abused while cheater decided who he wanted in his life…and then I was lied to even more. Five years of wasted time with B but obviously not with my children. Because of those five years with me they developed those qualities that they needed to be strong now, be able to love now and to have faith/hope that things will get better for them. They saw me try and give it my all and now they can do the same for themselves.

So thank you, son. Your Momma needed to hear your loving words. I can hardly wait to spend a week with all of you!

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Best Article I’ve Come Across For Women

So I have been wanting to write something all week but just haven’t had the time. Right now I am on the coast having an Open House to try and sell my house that needs to be sold due to the divorce. This is my heart and soul place. It it where I come to rest and rediscover myself. It hurts that this beautiful place will no longer be mine sometime soon. However, at the same time I do know that everything is transitory in life and it is all just on loan to us anyway while we are here on earth. Therefore, I am grateful to have had stewardship of this little slice of heaven for the past eight years and will wish the new owners as much peace and joy as I have had owning it.

The other day I read an article that literally changed my life and how I see myself. It pretty much explains why I have behaved as I have during B’s affair. After reading it it has allowed to me see myself as optimistic rather than stupid…a nice thing after four years of BS. Still, just about everyday B says he will give up HER IF I promise never to divorce him. I tell him that I already had committed myself to our relationship but had not even though I was under the impression he did. They deserve each other and I deserve better…so much better.

Anyway, here is the link. I hope it helps someone else as much as it has helped me. Also you will find a few pics from my soul’s resting place.

https://www.elephantjournal.com/2019/06/the-unexpected-reason-wonderful-women-find-themselves-in-horrible-relationships/?fbclid=IwAR3eNJH0V8TQlnLvspz67AlNnvrni8uRLH69sXhNfcVdlHzYnCzKKKXtbLE

 

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AH-HA MOMENTS

Last week I bought this sign for my kitchen.

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Today, that sign played out in my life as an all-too-rare “Ah-Ha Moment” and for that I am grateful.

It all started with a beautiful sunrise this morning which morphed into a cool afternoon devoid of rain. I decided to take a hike on one of the numerous trails that surround my home. It was a beautiful fall-like day with crisp-clean air, sweet dew laden grassy smells and wildlife galore.

 

After visiting “The Point” my son, Paul, and I started back up the trail. As we turned the corner near the visitors center where a few houses sit back of the path; I heard a Swoosh- followed by a rather loud SPLAT. Looking up I saw two 10-year-old boys lobbing lemons in my direction.

My first reaction was, “those little assholes. Why haven’t their parents taught them better.” That was obviously not the thoughts of the 70+ yo ladies who were heading up the path while I was going down.

“What was that?” the woman asked.

“Lemons,” I answered.

The woman looked over at the young lads and exclaimed loudly, “LEMONS!!!! I JUST LOVE LEMONS!!! CAN YOU THROW SOME MORE MY WAY?”

The boys looked at one another with a total look of surprise on their faces. Then they smiled and gently tossed more of the yellow fruit to the two old ladies who picked them up from the ground with the delight of 10 yo girls playing baseball on a summer’s afternoon.

AH-HA MOMENT…the sign…when life gives you lemons make something sweet…or funny… lighthearted and enjoyable. Why, I wondered, do I use the lemons life throws my way to leave a sour taste in my mouth instead of finding the sweet that is embedded in the moment? Why go to negative first instead of finding and embracing the positive? Why not ask, “Can you throw some more my way?” and be pleased to have them land at your feet?  Yes, I could definitely infuse many parts of my life with more sweet and less sour.

I thought about this as I walked home…tired but enlightened. And later, as I was munching on some of the best lemon bars I have ever made, I was grateful to realize that making something sweet was much more satisfying than being an old sourpuss.

 

Resisting Your Impulses

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Throughout my life I have gone through periods of impulsivity. During my teenage years impulsivity reined supreme as I cast off my life as a teenage daughter and tried on a new set of clothes as a 15-year-old “adult” making her own way through the world alone. Sure,  it all turned out okay in the end… BUT… was it the really the best way to go about things? Did impulsiveness help me to embrace myself and my talents, love myself more, while not inflicting unnecessary pain upon my soul as I journeyed? I suspect not. As the years have gone by, I have come to believe that there was a kinder gentler way of leading me towards myself and I suspect I would have found it sooner had I had been less impulsive.

During the past three years,  the “almost divorce” period, I found that impulsivity tried to rear its ugly head once again. Repeatedly.  My thoughts became dominated by:

  1. The things I should do
  2. How I SHOULD react
  3. What I needed to do to not look foolish to myself and others
  4. The steps I needed to take in order to “feel better” again (can you really in this type of situation?) and take back my life from a husband in the midst of a full-blown mid-life crisis.

Yet, ultimately what I discovered was that impulsivity did not allow me to “feel better” again. In fact, it produced the opposite effect. It created both physical and mental chaos. Slowly I came to comprehend that by acting impulsively instead of mindfully, I inflicted deep wounds upon my soul. Over time, I realized if I did not “rope it and rein it in” my suffering would increase exponentially, and God knows, I didn’t need anymore of that!

When I think back to the number of times I almost walked out or threw B out over the past three years…well, it was almost a daily occurrence. But thankfully, during these times I would hear my therapist reminding me (over and over again) how now was the time for mindfulness, discovery and curiosity. It was not a time for impulsivity.  She showed me how “sitting with things” and “seeing what comes naturally” instead of forcing things allowed me to examine my fears and act in ways that I am now extremely thankful for. This is true especially in regards to learning how to let fear pass through me without acting impulsively because of those real/or imagined doubts and anxieties that were hiding in my mental closet.

While I am still working diligently on seeing impulsivity for what it is and reacting appropriately; I have discovered that there is great power and joy in just letting sudden impulses pass by me without acting on them. By observing and not reacting to impulses, I don’t stop the flow of what I need to know from occurring naturally without the roadblocks that impulsivity puts in the way. I can truly say that I have found a greater sense of peace by not bending to fleeting/momentary “desires” or “fears” which I have discovered are actually often only transitory thoughts.  Dismissing impulsivity gives me the ability to postpone the immediate gratification of “action” and instead look ahead to find those things that fulfills me more or improve my life in ways I never dreamed possible had I given into the impulse.

In nine days it will be the one year anniversary of finding out about the affair. I am grateful that I have not let impulsivity direct these past 365 days.  For if it had I would be in a far different place than I am now and while things are not perfect they are much better than I imagined that they would ever have been just one short year ago.

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Coming Home

Make no mistake about it. We are the lucky ones. With so many families displaced by the Camp Fire (over 45,000 people, and over 13,000 homes burned to the ground) I am lucky that the only thing we have to worry about is a slight stench of smoke which has permeated our home.

We have lived out of boxes for two weeks and I feel incredibly lucky to have had those boxes with us at so many points during this crisis. So many people did not even have time to grab their valuables much less simple things like toothbrushes and a change of clothes. They literally ran with the clothes on their back into the thick black smoke to get away from the flames that were whipping from tree to tree above them.

Today, I started unpacking the car. What I realized was that everything I had packed had deep meaning for me and most were old family things belonging to relatives I had and had not met during my lifetime.

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I saved that 1893 stamp, worthless to anyone but me. It is the one that was taped together by my grandfather and I down in his basement after an epic failure at removing it from an envelope destroyed its purity. Along with it,  came my fifth GGrandmother’s lace sleeping cap and the christening dress that was my 4th GGrandmother’s wedding dress repurposed.

I took my kids adoption records and their citizenship papers, my third great grandmothers carnival glass salt and pepper shakers, and the pot we bought at the souk in Morocco; the one where we almost lost our daughter, probably never to be seen again.

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I took as much artwork as I could fit into the car. Pieces that we have collected during our travels like the deity from Argentina, part of the collection of Japanese woodblock prints and the breastplate we bought from the potter in my husband’s town of origin in Ireland on our 25th Anniversary holiday.

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I took old photographs, the Civil War Sugar bowl belonging to my 3rd maternal grandmother and my GG grandmothers white calling card bowl. The Buddha rode shotgun guarding the collection of celadon pottery that I bought while in my children’s country of origin.

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Everything I took had deep personal meanings and connections to the past. Everything had historical/familiar significance to me and to those who came before my time. And while these items are only “things” and I can’t take them with me when I die; they bring meaning to my life now and I am grateful to have them.

I am glad to be back home. In a home lucky enough to remain untouched by a fire that killed so many. I can’t imagine having nothing left of my life but ashes and soot. I can’t even wrap my head around how that must feel. But this I know…it isn’t the collection of things that we have that are the most meaningful, it is the collection of people, our tribe, that we call our own that bring us our greatest joy.

Now go and give someone you love a hug. Then look around you and think about what you would take if you had to flee. It only takes a minute to determine what is of value to you and unfortunately sometimes a minute is all you have. So be prepared.

The Good That We Can Learn From The Bad

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Believe it or not sometimes I am beginning to see light shining on the path I have been forced down due to my husband’s infidelity. I am beginning to see a little clearer how I contributed to this debacle. NO, it does not mean that he was just in doing what he did. It just means that sometimes we unwittingly do things that help shift the tide of events to a road that was never meant to be traveled. For it is often NEVER just one persons fault when a relationship unravels. Let me explain.

Before B’s affair came to light I had not been enjoying my life for quite a long time. Sometimes autism took its toll. Sometimes my own negative thinking. Sometimes it was just situations involving me in things I shouldn’t have let myself get involved in in the first place. Other times is was a very low level depression and large amounts of stress that contributed to my thinking that life had somehow become a struggle. And while I recognized that life was never meant to be a struggle somehow it was turning into that very thing it was not meant to be. Often I felt I had lost control of my own life.

Recently, I have come to see that this pain of my husband’s betrayal  has brought good things to my life. When I came close to divorcing I was distraught and depressed. If I thought life had been a struggle before, now it felt like a 1000 pound weight had been added to the backpack that I carry on my life’s journey. All my self doubts rose like a tsunami and smashed my ego into smithereens like wooden boats thrown against giant breaker walls. I was a mess.

Yet, slowly I have come to see many positives that have come my way after this experience, one of which I would like to share with you. You see, in almost losing myself and my life as I knew it all of a sudden I realized what a good life I had. For the most part I have loved it and when taken as a whole it had made me happy and has brought me much more joy than sorrow. I had just forgotten the good parts and was concentrating on the bad. Trying to fix things that were not mine to fix or living for the future and not in the present which created suffering and unhappiness; discontent and anger.

And so, in almost losing everything, I have gained a new and positive perspective on my life…and when I got that back I realized that my remaining years are meant to savored, grabbed, and spent looking for the first buds on a tree. So now I stop and listen and look, recognizing and appreciating the pure joy I hear in the laughter around me, all the while enjoying brilliant sunsets that are best viewed when still and contemplative. For life was never meant to be a struggle and I am trying not to make it so.

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Home Alone Horror

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Home Alone is one of the most seen movies in the world. Although it was made years ago, you can always find it on one channel or another because it is a family favorite. It is funny and it makes you laugh out loud…unless it comes to roost in our own life. Then it ain’t so funny!

B and I were heading home from New York the other day after a wonderful weekend anniversary trip. Though we had been through two years of a “maybe” divorce, this weekend felt like we were in love again. That is when the sitter texted me.

I JUST LOOKED AT MY WORK SCHEDULE AND I HAVE TO WORK TONIGHT. I WILL NEED TO LEAVE AT 10 p.m.

“THAT IS FINE,” I texted back. “WE WILL BE HOME FROM THE AIRPORT AROUND 10:15 .SO IT ISN’T REALLY A PROBLEM”…until it was.

Standing in the crappy line with a GROUP 6 boarding ticket while annoying, is not a problem. Usually. Unless, you step on everyone’s toes and piss them off, while trying to maneuver yourself  back to the cockpit to get your suitcase checked because all the overhead bin space is taken. Placing your belongs in the overhead bin…no problem…for the GROUP 1-5 passengers. GROUP 6…FORGET IT! Fastening my seatbelt was easy as pie as my anti-anxiety “fear of flying” pill kicked in.  Everything was going as expected until these words were uttered by the cute and spunky stewardess whom everyone suddenly looked like they wanted to slap:

” PLEASE RETRIEVE YOUR BELONGINGS AS EVERYONE WILL NEED TO DEPLANE. THERE IS A PROBLEM WITH THE EMERGENCY SLIDE AND GROUND MAINTENANCE HAS TO BE CALLED TO FIX THE ISSUE.”

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Now I will confess I try to keep positive in these types of situations. I mean, after all, it is better to be riding on a “fixed” plane than a “broken” one. But an emergency slide? Really? I mean how often are they used anyway?. Hell, I thought, if there turns out to be an issue, I will gladly stand at the open slide-less door and just toss people out onto the ground below. Problem fixed. Now, let’s get this freaking show on the road!

A collective groan so loud it nearly popped the rivets holding the plane together ensued. This was followed by a sound reminiscent of a herd of lumbering and pissed-off elephants starting back up the gangway.

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Faces that had been smiling only 5 minutes previous were now pinched and drawn. The variety of cuss words I overheard was astounding and during the race to the customer service center several people nearly lost there lives. Frankly, there was not enough free alcohol in the entire terminal that could cheer up this downcast and angry crowd.

As B and I stood in the wrap-around line waiting to talk to that poor unlucky agent who had been plucked by the previous 50 ticket holders; it finally dawned on us that we had a problem. A serious one.  We only had an hour layover after we landed before we were to catch our final plane home. Unfortunately, this was the last plane for the night we were soon to discover.  Suddenly, were having our own HOME ALONE moment and nothing about it was the least bit entertaining.

Now being home alone is okay in our household during the day but certainly not overnight. We knew that Andre wouldn’t care as long as he could lay around in his underwear eating chips without being bothered by anyone. Change is hard for kids with autism but as long as there is food available and no one around to boss him around; Andre was happy.

Paul started crying over the telephone. The unknown is difficult for him but an unexpected change of plans is a catastrophe. . Let’s just say this didn’t fit into his scheme of things and the breakdown started.

Gracie…well, she isn’t one for being away from her Mommy and Daddy…especially at night. But we knew she would suck it up if she had to.

And so we started calling everyone we knew as the minutes started ticking away. 10 minutes late. 20 minutes. 40 minutes. 50 minutes…which was the point of no return. We were now officially screwed. Finally, an hour and 40 minutes later we lifted off unsure of what the future held…except that most likely Children’s Protective Services might be giving us a visit in the near future.

As nicely as I could I explained our situation to the stewardess. HOME ALONE.  TWO WITH AUTISM. MELTDOWN.

“Would you like a beverage?” she responded cheerfully.

I was tempted to ask for a double scotch on the rocks but decided that a drunk absentee parent was most certainly worse than a sober one when talking to government officials. Therefore, I took my seat,  bought the WI-FI service for $29.95 and sent out a plea for help on Facebook. I am happy to report that by the time we landed, I had three friends offer to help and a neighbor who informed me that she would take the kids to school. These are the times in life when “do unto others as you would have them do onto you” suddenly takes on a whole new meaning.

Flying five hours across the country we still had hope that we would make our flight but it was not to be. So we took our food vouchers and ate dinner in the airport, then took the shuttle bus to our hotel and finally settled in to watch a movie. When we turned on the t.v, guess what was being shown? Yep, you’re right… it just happened to be HOME ALONE. That apparently is the way we roll.

 

 

 

Pitter Patter of Little Feet

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Today after a wonderful day in the Florida Keys I arrived back at the hotel and saw my sweet grand babies. My daughter, Noele, drove 10 hours with a three-year-old and an almost two-year-old in the back of her car. She endured much crying, fighting, and a MAJOR puking incident just so she could see us again. Somehow, with all the mistakes we made as parents she turned out just right despite our good intentions. How that happened I will never know.

From the time she was a tween this mother/daughter team could always find something to argue about. Things like… which side of the toast is the correct side to butter, whether being a strict vegan was taking things to the extreme, and if boys were allowed to be in her room. Much to my dismay while I knew I loved her deeply, I didn’t like her  much and our relationship didn’t match the Brady Bunch ideal swimming around in my head.  I would see mothers (Carol) and daughters (Marcia) walking the malls together and it would pull at my heart. Seeing teens and their mothers enjoying a movie together hurt like hell. And those mothers who ran the Booster Club with their kids helping along side them…I knew it was never going to happen.

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B hunkered down. As a man who avoids conflict at all costs, having two of the women he loved most in the world living in a war zone with him serving as a NATO soldier trying to broker a peace deal was not an easy task. He never could understand all the slammed doors and word grenades being flung from one side of the house to the other and he visibly cringed when skirmishes erupted.

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When Noele was fifteen I never envisioned that we would have any sort of relationship until she kicked my casket into the ground. In fact, my biggest hope was that she would graduate early so she could move out of the house sooner and after a year away as an international exchange student, she returned home more stubborn and determined to ignore anything thing we had to say. And who could blame her? She tasted freedom for a year and wanted even more. The parental role I once relished became a nightmare and a battle of wills ensued in which both of us suffered heavy losses. Recovery seemed remote.

But then it happened. One day she grew up and into her own woman. It took a while and a first child for that to happen. The birth of my granddaughter brought several miracles along with her. No longer at odds with each other our commonalities soon surfaced and within those we found mutual respect and a deep well filled with love that was once bone dry.

These days we live at opposite ends of the country. We SKYPE almost daily so we can share tidbits of our daily lives and so that her kids “know” their Grammy and Papa. Noele willingly comes and takes care of her own children plus her brothers and sister so B and I can travel to far-flung places. I can’t imagine someone I would rather invest in a friendship with than my daughter. She values family, is generous with her time and is a good all-around person who has made me proud.

Tomorrow I will wake up with little ones running into my arms again. Squishy hugs and wet kisses will fill my day. We will squirm together, laugh together, and make real- life memories together. And its all because of her…my daughter…a once formidable foe who is now one of my best friends.

 

Sparkle

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Several months ago I wrote about the chandelier that has been sitting in my garage for the past year.  You can read about it here Assigning Meaning To Things

The fact that B knew the emotional significance to me about having this hung and it never was done still stings a little but for the most part I have let it go. He is busy. We are busy and he hates doing electrical. I am giving him the benefit of the doubt that not hanging the chandelier is not an indication as to the depth of his love for me or how he feels about our relationship. It is all I can do.

All this week B has been up at Boy Scout Camp with the boys. He takes a week off of work every year to make sure that they have that experience. It is hot. It is dusty and he has to work very hard to make sure that Andre’s autism does not get in the way of him having fun and building memories. It is a fun week but an emotionally tough one too. Sleeping on cots in tents is no longer my idea of fun so I am grateful that he does this because he loves our kids and wants them to experience all that they can.

While B has been gone this week, I decided to make myself happy. I decided to take a chance on the goodness I see in our relationship and where I think it is headed. So I called out an electrician and…HAD THE DAMN CHANDELIER HUNG!. It looks beautiful. It is shiny and looks perfect in the room. And it makes me happy which is the best reason of all to have hung it. IMG_9903

So there you go…happiness in a box; happiness within me.  May it inspire me to sparkle and shine everyday as it does. For it no longer matters to me who put it up; I am just happy that it is there.

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