Divorce

How Many People

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / Leave a comment

Lately I have been contemplating the question that asks by how many people must we be loved to be happy? Is there a magic number? Is life worth living if one doesn’t have anyone to give love to or get some back? And what kind of love do we as human beings need?

For some people it appears that they are happy by themselves with no need to have someone love them. Self love is all they need. For others, it appears having a gazillion “friends” on Facebook makes them feel loved even by those they do not “know” in real life. So is there a true number like two? or six? or ten?

Or is it we only need one person because that person gives us what our soul needs for nourishment. Is it the person who takes away our fear? The person who makes life meaningful for us? The person who you know will always have your back? Or the person who cries at the end of the movie before you do?

I am not sure of the number of people that have loved me but I know that I have been fortunate enough to have been loved. Passionately. Deeply. Genuinely. Freely without expectations. Is that because I am drawn to good people or because for most of my life I have demanded to be loved in this way?

Love is a funny thing. It is the ying and yang of life. It can quench our thirst or it can make us feel parched and worn.  It is what makes live beautiful or sad, satisfying or unpleasant. At this point in my life I am looking for connectedness with those that I love and a partner whose love fills my soul. I want a love that if life-giving, refreshing and meaningful. I want love that embraces me,  that holds me, and is accepting. I think B and I had it once and in many aspects of our lives we still do. But I think we can love each other more and in doing so and lead each other gently on to ourselves so we can be free to love each other again. In a respectful, healthy way, and in a way that satisfies us both. I believe in love. I still believe in us and I am not ready to give up. Maybe that is all that is needed right now.

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Damn I’m Good-A Positive Post

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 4 Comments

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I love the color red. It’s bright, invigorating and screams out “LOOK AT ME!” like a three year-old having an intense but satisfying tantrum. Yes, red is a color that begs to be both seen and heard.

I have never had much red in my life even though I love it’s sass.I tend toward colors that live life in a predictable fashion, steady and neutral ones, which when I think about it, describe me perfectly. They are the familiar and comfortable colors. They represent things like  grilled cheese and soup on a warm winters day. Nothing fancy and nothing too far “out there.” Just reliable go-with-anything colors that you can count on to get you through life.

This week I decided that the house needed a facelift so I bought a gazillion of those cans of paint samples trying to find the perfect hue with which to paint my shutters. There were forest greens, navy blues, and soft grays. Yellow was out but black remained on the list. With the amount I spent on samples I could have bought several gallons of paint but it was important to find the “perfect” color. Just for kicks I decided to try a red on for size and surprised myself when I decided to paint those shutters a kiss-me-once-more shade of RED.

Now I think I have shared with you that I am desperately afraid of heights. Terrified. And the shutters are mostly on the second story which would necessitate crawling out on the roof to get the job done. Now B would have eventually gotten around to it if I had asked but frankly his painting sucks. Drips everywhere. Streaks galore. Whereas I am a painting pro who doesn’t even need to tape off because I have such a steady hand. I am a Leondardeschi of the da Vinci gang. But up on the roof? Heaven help me. Even I had my limits…or so I thought.

So it was with trepidation yesterday morning that I eased myself out of my daughter’s second story window and stood out on top of the roof, the sun scorching my delicate skin, while I scrapped, prepped, and painted eight shutters. And if I do say so myself the change looks great. But it is not the exterior change that is important; it is the interior one I made inside of myself that is significant as well as meaningful to me. Because once again I conquered my fears and I accomplished something that made me feel positively giddy. I did what made me happy and was not afraid to transform things just a bit. And if the truth be told, painting the shutters became symbolic of something even greater. It spoke of my belief in the longevity and eventual recovery of my relationship with B because I wouldn’t have risked life and limb on the roof of a house that I wouldn’t be living in in the future. Amen.

Looking For The Good-Positive Post #2

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 1 Comment

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The other night B and I were out taking our usual late night walk. It was a beautiful evening, cool and crisp, for this area of the country. The moon shone bright and the stars were singing the Twinkle song. Everything was perfect…except… where was the sparkle between us?

About mid-way through this jaunt we stepped into a quiet and very dark place where I told B, “I think that instead of concentrating on all the characteristics I don’t possess or all the things you feel are missing from this relationship, perhaps it would make us happier if we both looked for the good in one another.”

“That’s funny,” replied B. “That is exactly what my therapist said tonight and she gave me some homework to do in this area.”

Instantly we reached for each others hand, reemerged, and continued walking along.  Immediately I got that sense that both of us realized that by looking for the best in each other, instead of the worst, things felt immediately different. Better. For while you are in the dark there is nothing to see, but when you change perspective and step into the moonlight, the sparkle returns, and you can begin to be able to shine once more.

The Dance Lesson- A Positive Post

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 4 Comments

The other night we took our first dance lesson. We had been looking for something fun to do and this just seemed to fit the bill. We picked something that was not fast or sassy like the Rumba or Salsa. The Slide didn’t generate much interest nor did the Polka.  We decided that the only prerequisite was that the music needed to be old and slow …just like me… and most of the other students who showed up. In short that left us only one dance…the Waltz.

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For those of us who know me and before you howl in laughter let me assure you that this waltzing stuff is hard work. YOU HAVE TO REMEMBER:

Eyes up..keep looking over your partner’s left ear.

Left hand held high…but not too high…not too low either.

And keep in mind that your right hand must be seen at all times in order to prove you are not goosing your partner.

And those feet…keep them out from under your partner.

Make your steps smaller.

Make your steps bigger.

Go slower

Now faster

And ladies, to make this dancing stuff even harder… you will be moving BACKWARDS!

“Okay, I’ve got this,” I thought after doing the box step about a dozen times. By then, B and I had stopped fighting about who got to lead. But then, horrors of horrors, we were told to switch partners! It had the effect on me that an orgy would…get me the heck out of here!!!

Now I know I said for the next week I would only write positive things. So here goes: I am positive I have two left feet and should be banned for dancing forever. By the time we were done I think my other partners believed so too. I looked like a teenage boy at his first boy-girl dance in Junior High. Graceful was not in the cards but stress induced acne was.

My first partner smiled big as I slipped into his arms. His smiled disappeared the first of the seven times that I stepped on his toes. “Stop trying to lead,” was his helpful advice.

When I arrived before partner #2 I laughed wickedly and said, “I was a teenager of the 70’s. I either danced alone or did the BUMP.” I saw “CHALLENGE” flash through the man’s eyes. We had only gotten three steps into the box when he said in a superior and slightly uptight manner “Stop trying to lead.”

Partner #3 was obviously a professional dancer. I tried the BUMP conversation again at which point he said, “Hogwash, I can make any dancer look good.” Turns out he was wrong. He waved me on to the next man with a “Stop trying to lead” tripping off his tongue as I inadvertently did the same over my own foot.

Partners 4, 5,6, and 7 all had the same thoughts and “stop trying to lead” became the mantra of the day.  This dancing stuff was tough and not necessarily because of the movements and coordination that was involved. Truth be told it was the fighting each man to lead that was doing me in.

I think at this point I should confess that  I do like to lead in all areas of my life. Frankly, I am a natural born leader and a forward thinking kind of girl. I try not to look back in life with too many regrets and apparently this going backwards stuff while doing the waltz  didn’t leave me without regrets either.  I soon began to ask myself, “What am I doing here?”

Finally after being paired with so many different partners, I arrived back into B’s arms. It felt good and comforting to be held by someone so familiar and suddenly I found myself moving backwards with ease. In retrospect, I think it has something to do with trust and for those few moments I had an abundance of it as B waltzed me across the ancient hardwood floor.

I wish it was that easy in real life. It must be amazing to just let go and get swept up in the moment, gracefully put one foot in front of the other, and in time to whatever life throws your way. It must feel marvelous being able to trust your partner and to know without a doubt that they won’t bang you into any walls or waltz you right off the stage. To know that your back is covered and your feet are too. And it must be awesome to move with your partner to life’s beat without constraint and without a care in the world.

I hope dancing will teach me all of those things and more. I am even more hopeful that dancing will allow me to finally recognize something even more important:

That following doesn’t mean giving up the lead…it only means you’ll tread on fewer toes!

 

 

 

You Are Your Own Images

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 2 Comments

So yesterday I went to see my therapist and read her yesterday’s piece titled Parolee. She responded that the images we see in these scenes are all us and that we often put those images on our significant others. In other words, I am both the Parolee and the Parole Officer. And that the harsh officer in that scene… is really me… for I am so harsh with myself and my own worst critic. In addition, I am my own jailer and am angry at myself for being that.

This is going to take some time to digest but I think she may be on to something.

In the meantime my therapist has urged me to spend the next week writing positive pieces about myself and my life. No divorce pieces. No negativity. Just happiness, butterflies, and unicorns. So I have decided to try.

I hope I have the imagination and stomach for it. Hope you do too!

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Parolee

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 3 Comments

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Sometimes I this “maybe divorce” makes me feel like a convicted felon out on parol. It isn’t a comfortable feeling and makes me feel jumpy in my own skin. And if the truth be told sometimes I feel as if B is the Parol Officer which sometimes makes me resentful and angry at the system that I have allowed myself to be incarcerated within.

It must be hard for real life parolees. Living in the shadow of an officer who in the blink of an eye has the power and absolute authority to send them back to prison. One false move and their life changes whether they want it to or not. You can’t help but wonder if they are constantly looking behind them and in front, unable to live in the present, due to the stress of staying vigilant like I am. Not being able to let your guard down is a terrible way to live.

Frankly, I just want to be let out on good behavior. I have served my sentence and have made major changes in myself along the way and while serving this sentence has made me be more mindful and has helped me not to yell (which has been a good thing for both me and my family) I am tired of being under watch. I just want to be free to be me again without the fear of separation hanging over my head.

 

*After I wrote this piece I told B that this was how I was feeling. With tears in his eyes he said, “I’m sorry. That must feel awful to feel you are having to live that way.How can we change this?”

 

Shut Down

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 2 Comments

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I have noticed at the therapists office lately whenever I say something and the therapist asks how B feels about what I said, he replies “It makes me shut down when she says that, talks that way, responds that way, etc.” Frankly, its getting old. Put on your big boy jock strap and get over it for goodness sake!

You shut down years ago and now you use me as your excuse. You actually started shutting down when you were a kid. Now you are a middle aged man who is mad at himself for keeping in his feelings and not saying what was on your mind to your mother, to your family, and to me because we all “shut you down.”

But instead of being the scapegoat I think you need to put this one directly on your own shoulders for it seems to me that you “shut down” when you don’t want to deal with conflict or emotions or whenever something makes you uncomfortable.  You use “shut down” as an excuse to avoid…me, your feelings, or anything that makes you have to think in a way you do not want to. This then gives you the excuse to be righteous in your misplaced anger.

Your first response may be to shut down. You are not responsible for that first response but you are responsible for how long you choose to live with it.

So, in essence, shutting down is a really just a bad habit and it is a choice. Stop making that choice. PLEASE.

 

 

Four Men Give The Same Answer

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 6 Comments

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In the past week or so I have talked to four different men who all concurred that when your husband says: “I want to feel the feeling of loving you like you can do no wrong…the way I used to feel but I am  unsure that I ever can again. I want to feel once again like I worship the ground you walk on…which I am is not sure that I ever can again, etc.”

IT MEANS ITS OVER. DONE. KA-PUT.

When four men tell you the same thing its a difficult thing to hear because when do four men ever agree on anything except the fact that they all want more sex. If four men agree on something as basic as this what are you suppose to do with this information? Do you take it as gospel or do you put it into the Place of Mysteries and wait for more information? Or do you, as I did, tell your husband who replied, “Well, what do you think?”

I’m not even sure where to go with that response except maybe back to college to protect myself when the inevitable happens.

So there it is…another non answer from the hubby but an agreement from four of the males species and I don’t like their answer. Maybe I will just float down DeNile and find other four men to ask….couldn’t hurt…or could it?

 

 

 

My Husband’s Body-10 Minute Poem Challenge

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / Leave a comment

I know your body like I know my own

I think of that scar on your left arm and how it got there

I know the lines in your hands and around your eyes

I feel the softness of your palm before your fingers touch me

I see your eyes light up when I get you in the mood

I watch you as your hips sway and tip to the left as you climb into bed

And I know how quickly you arise to the occasion

When your body is touched lightly in that spot between your belly and nipples

Which harden instantly even at the most inappropriate times

I know just how long you can last before getting to the point of no return

And see you close your eyes  and open your mouth softly as you reach your peak

Only to come down making sure to pleasure me

And I miss you and me coming together

To make our bodies unite as one

For I know your body like my own

And mine is aching for yours

 

I just ran out of batteries

And left that orgasm behind

I just ran out of batteries

How could life be so unkind?

Right in the middle

Of a sweet little diddle

That orgasm got up and went

So where’s my keys?

And where’s my wallet?

If I hurry really fast

Perhaps I can restore it

I just ran out of batteries

Life is just so unfair

I just ran out of batteries

But I ain’t going anywhere

Whats done is done

Whats over is over

The store is closed

Off went my motor

I just ran out of batteries

So I’ll just say goodnight

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Why Now?

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 14 Comments

There were several times in our marriage that we might have broken up.  When your family refused to meet me not because I was me but because no girl that your mother had not picked out for you would be the “right” one. And in our early marriage in my total immaturity I would say, “Okay, let’s get a divorce” when we had an argument.There was that time in 1989. And when we found out we could not have biological children together. And when the IVF failed. When over a period of several months I could not reach you in your hotel room at 2 am…four different times at four different hotels. I counted. I remember. When I found those not quite dirty but not quite innocent texts between you and Gweniffer. So many times we could have just walked away… so why now?

Why now when we have six children depending on us? Why now when I have hit middle age? Why now when I have been out of the job market for many years raising our children together? Why now when we have created something that so many would die to have/experience what we have? Why now when we still have amazing sex… or does doing it for the 5,687 time bore you? Why now when you have  seven years until retirement? Why now when I have done what you have asked? Why now… even though I am not perfect, I have been a good wife moving so many times for your career and always cheering you on?

Sometimes I wonder how you could be so selfish and so harsh. Is that how you see me?

Sometimes I wonder how you could be so blind. Is that how you see me?

Sometimes I wonder how you could be so disconnected. Is that how you see me?

Sometimes I wonder how you can have sex with me when you no longer love me the way you want to?

Sometimes I wonder how we could have unraveled so far?

So why now? After over 30 years of togetherness? Can you just not stand me that much that you will sacrifice our family and our life together? Do you think it will be easier with the kids by yourself? Do you think you will find someone younger, prettier and better than me? Maybe so but maybe not, yet this I know… I no longer know what to think. I no longer know what to feel. I no longer know what to do. I am at a complete and utter loss…and you have put me there.