Tarot

As I walk down a road I do not know, I find myself looking for answers every step of the way. Like a sense of security in each step, I need some kind of answer. Funny, I don't even remember the last time I was like this--it probably was 13 years ago. There is such a sense of peace when one is not looking for answers down an unknown road. How quickly we forget when we are back on course--it is like that awful, crap, pot hole ridden, meandering road with no end, just falls away, and we know we will never see that road again..or so we (I) have hoped for so long. I did not think I could bear to be on that wretched road again. And here I am.

So I found myself at the book store, looking for answers. In a nice locked up case, are all the Tarot Cards. I am drawn strongly to them. My daughter and I look them over, and agree on the Mystic Faerie Tarot, they look gentle and sweet and answers I would want.

Last night I picked just one card, just to give it a whirl. I did not shuffle them, just drew a card. I got 5 of Cups. The Mourning Card. My god, how is this possible, what are the odds? Huge I guess, considering I am picking from a Tarot card deck. The card is a beautiful fragile mermaid, who holds in her head in her hands and she sobs in grief. The card acknowledged my loss in a relationship and while mourning is necessary, not to stay there too long. I think mourning is tough for me. So I put it away, and went on to have dream filled sleep of my loss.

Tonight I thought I would read a bit more, and learned there is the Past, Present and Future reading--the one I had did with one card is also a reading (I had no idea.) So this time I really shuffled the cards, and cut them, and then drew 3 at total random and spread them out--
the one on the left for Past, the middle for the Present and the right for Future. Behold, if I was not a believer yet, the Present card I pulled is AGAIN the 5 of Cups. I cannot believe this. I have spent this whole day in mourning, as I worked for hours in the yard and listened to so much music and cried as I worked in a lovely garden, and noticed how I continually feel like a ghost in my own life.

The Past card was the Four of Pentacles, which is a lovely card, with a faerie sitting admiring her harvest. The card says she cannot remember being so happy in her life. The is clearly the truth. I remember so clearly being happy. Knowing that sad road was done. I did not have to follow it anymore, so lost. It said to gather your bounty and plan for the future. To keep enough for lean times. To be grateful for my bounty. I believe I was. Except for the past couple of years, I remember being happy. Not every second, but I remember being so glad to be done with heartbreak.

My Future card was the Star. It is about serenity and peace. She is water, and refreshes and renews and gives hope. She guides us and her powers are endless. Whatever has been trying your spirit,what difficulties you have faced, whatever sadness has torn your heart, the Star brings a place to be refreshed and find hope. She will serve as your guiding star to help you find your way. But first, rest.

My Future card is unbelievable. Like the hand of god has just reached down. As I prayed this morning for direction and comfort, in the quiet of my alter space, as I seek something I don't currently have, I feel this card is a sign for me. And as my Present card has stated, stay as you must in mourning , but do not live there. And as I write this, and hang my head in my hands, not even realizing just now that I look like the mermaid on the card, I know I cannot live in mourning, but I am not ready to go. It is overwhelming and so beyond what I could have ever imagined that I would feel. Like 20 years are just crushing down on me, surrounding me on all sides, crashing again and again, like waves I cannot escape, barely able to swim through. I ask over and over, why was I not enough? Why could I not make it work? These are the things that torment me. I know I have said it before, but I so wanted this to work, with everything I have, it is so hard to not be able to live without someone, and yet you must.

Love of My Life

Today I went to see my attorney, as I sort through the various legal documents on the road to divorce. It is like this meeting each week that I just don't want to go to, because I don't want to face reality, face the music. I keep thinking I am in some sort of unending dream and one day it will be over, but one day never comes.

As part of the paperwork, she has her clients write "The Story of My Marriage." She told me today it was clear as she read it, that Evan is the love of my life. Like this amazing ton of bricks, I just broke into tears. I had not even expected to cry in the office today. But it is such a truthful statement, there is just no denying it. And again I was face to face with a reality that is no more, that just does not matter, that will not be, and I have nowhere to go with it, but just to look at it, cry and let it be.

It is quite a powerful thing to have a love of your life. That is not a title easily given to someone. I don't think anyone earns it though, if we had to earn that, most of us would never get such a title. It just has to be felt by the other person. And once the title is bestowed, somewhat like not having to earn it, it is equally as hard to take it away. The mind might want to rip it away, but the heart continues to hold on, like a total separate entity, living in another reality. I do believe in more than one Love of Your Life. I guess letting one go is a hard thing to do. But it does happen. I guess I was the love of my husband's life. At least I think I was. I did not often feel day to day as important as I would like, but I also cannot say that I did not feel loved. Maybe it was all an illusion, but none the less, it felt real to me. As the song True Companion was sung at my wedding, I always believed I would be with Evan forever, looking for him in heaven one day. As we danced to What a Wonderful World I don't think I could have been more happy than I was in those moments. I loved him to pieces.

Oh I know, one should just get on with the process of divorce. Stop with memories, the heart stuff that just crushes. I agree on some level. But to deny it, is just a lie, and fooling myself.

"It is clear, he is the love of your life" just sits in my ears. I knew it, but hearing it aloud was like a statement I could just not avoid. It makes the whole thing of ending this so much harder for me. I so wanted to age with him. I just had this vision, like the song 100 years. Maybe I live too much in a unrealistic world, full of hope and dreams, and then sometimes tempered by reality and I cannot juggle both. I don't know. 20 years. The love of my life. Gone. Almost in the blink of an eye. I feel so forgotten.

Sandy

I must write something for Sandy, while the memories are so real. Sandy, one of our dogs, died a week ago Sunday night. We knew it was coming. He was sick, failing fast. In his last days I found so much compassion for him, and I kick myself for not being so much more so for longer. I feel like I somewhat failed as a pet owner in the last part of his life. I was so consumed with my marriage and watching it ebb out to sea, that the dogs, at times, were just so much for me to even deal with, which is awful to say.

Sandy and his brother, Shelly, Australian Blue Healers, were with us for 14 years. Shelly is still here. Sandy was the "baby" of the two. He always needed so much attention. Would bark at you until he got it. We had such a journey with them over the years. The last couple of years it was like they aged decades all at once, becoming much more feeble, unable to take long walks, getting sick (throwing up) losing their hearing, not even hearing the door bell any longer. I have had the pleasure the last year or so, that while I worked they sat on the couch next to me. Sometimes they were so asleep, I worried they had died. Often when I would go downstairs to lunch, Sandy would follow. He would sit and wait for his treats. Treats, it is what their life is about. If they went outside and came in, a treat was in order. The last couple of months Sandy did not follow me downstairs all the time, often either did Shelly. I would bring biscuits up to them, and sometimes could not even wake them to get them to eat it. I could see them falling away before my eyes.

The last month with Sandy was achingly sad, as I saw him falter so much, almost overnight he became a shadow of his former self, unable to walk far, panting for air, his backbone starting to show. It became really obvious he was not long for this world. And my marriage was falling away, so I was just so confronted with grief it was so hard to watch it. I am happy to say that in his last week, I made him chicken and eggs with cheese, and was delighted to see him gobble it up, and up, and brought him water right to him. I felt like for a few days I was giving hospice care to him. I knew these were the last days. It was beyond hard for me to have my husband move away, and then two days later to learn that Sandy died at the vet on a Sunday night, he did not even need to be put to sleep, he just went on his own, he was gone.

I recall him as a puppy, cute beyond words. He and Shelly were even "show and tell" for my daughter Megan when she was in the 5th grade. They were so small, they could both curl up on the front seat of my mustang. They shook with fear in the classroom.

Sandy loved frisbee and ball, and was a bit obsessed with it in his younger years. He always was jealous of Shelly, if you noticed Shelly, Sandy would come running over. He had to have attention. He would bark incessantly when my husband came home, like he was like a little kid who had to talk about his day. I miss him so much now. When I saw Marley and Me this past December, it made me so sad. I wished I had been a better pet owner. I felt like I had failed them in some ways. I always thought my husband was the better pet owner. I mean he adored them. He loved to cuddle with them, talk to them, kiss them, it was inspiring, always.

I did see Sandy two days before he died, almost comatose on his pillow in the truck, looking like he was at death's door. It was sobering and certainly the ending. Endings, they are brutal.

It is said you see your pets when you die, they come running. I hope so. Now Shelly lingers on, so lost and alone and I wonder when his time will be. So the end of an era.

Cancelled

I have missed my blog. I have been so awash in grief and uncertainty that there have been days I can barely get through. I should have been blogging, it would be good to look back on and see my steps, but I could not, it was like another door had shut on me. There was no access to me.

The other day I thought about my breakup of my marriage and my divorce that is just waiting out there, and felt like I had booked a wonderful trip to Europe but somewhere in route ended up in a third world country on the street, alone and afraid. How did my plans get so changed? But I suppose that I am in that third world country right now on the street, and alone and afraid, so I may as well start walking and see what I come to. Maybe around a corner, or somewhere down the road there will be something astounding that I had not expected. One thing for sure, the trip to Europe has been cancelled, not rescheduled, cancelled.

I have felt like a ghost in my own life, floating through the days. It is totally surreal to me and there is no safety zone, at any moment, anything could totally disrupt me and cause me to fall apart, if only inside, or at least until I am back to the safety of my 4 walls. Every day is different than the one before, but not in a good way but more so in a way that is completely undependable and without instructions on how to handle.

I am just rambling tonight as I am exhausted from the past few weeks of turning a huge ship around and taking a course that I really have no idea where it is going. What a terribly unsettling feeling. And the world goes on. No one really stops for you, they cannot.

In the midst of it all, one of our dogs died. His death to me was such a metaphor for our life, ending in its final days, in pain, slowly slipping away, but the end was right there, staring at one in the face. He may have died at the end of it all from his own broken heart beyond being old and sick and feeble. He left his brother behind who is now alone and lonely and I am sure so confused about it all, having moved away from his home.

And the snow and the rain just keep coming and winter seems to be endless this year, and there is a part of me that does not want it to end, does not want to see long sunny beautiful days, as I feel I will have to use them and be part of them, where with winter it is so much easier to hide.

I search for meaning, am looking for new paths, and read the other day that sometimes we cannot live without someone, but that we have to let them go anyway, and that is how I feel, and what a tough thought that is, I can hardly get my arms around it.