To Love, Honor and Cherish

I feel compelled to write because the month is now over, and I have been faltering on writing, as I often don't have the words or courage to even put something down. But I don't want the month to pass without getting at least 4 entries written, as if to almost adhere to a simple goal to keep my sanity.

Where am I at? The words "I adored him and I was a good wife" ring through my ears, as my counselor told me she has heard me say this more than once. She is right. I am not sure which one I want to emphasize more. Tough call. But if a gun was held to my head, I guess I would go with "I adored him." How did I. To depths I cannot even comprehend. And it does not matter.
And I am left with that, like standing at the edge of a cliff, with the only choice to jump off, and leave it all behind. And I was a good wife. How I loved being a wife. Love it. Love the idea of being a "wife" love being someone's wife, so much. To love, honor, and cherish, until death do us part--I love those vows.

While I am quite independent and don't need a guy to take care of me, at the same time I love being part of a union, a sacred partnership, the words husband and wife portray--although there are millions of husbands and wives, each relationship is unique and special unto itself, and how I loved being part of that. Now I am alone, utterly alone in a relationship with myself, and while every single self help book and well meaning person says how important and wonderful it is to have a relationship with yourself, love yourself, and on and on and on..let's be honest, we live in a world of couples, and almost all single people are looking or hoping that they one day again will be a couple, really, it is the truth. For the most part, very few people just want to be with themself. Are we indoctrinated into this by society, or is it a deep yearning we are all born with? I can tell myself I am pretty, successful, funny, sexy, whatever, all I want, but having a partner tell me that will have 10x the weight it will if I tell myself that, it is just the way it is. So now I am alone. I yearn for my best friend.

Again, perhaps all just an illusion for so long, but does it matter, I don't know. It was my reality, and the lines between what is real to us and what is real can be quite blurred. The mind might indeed get it and everyone else sees it, but the emotional heart is always behind, like the student always a chapter or two behind, and that is the tough part. I can say all I want that I am past all of it, but it would be a lie.

Walking the Trail

I read the other day, that if everything is good in your life, be grateful, because one day it will change. If everything is bad in your life, don't despair, because one day it will change. The cycle of life I suppose. But it seems that we are only programmed and able to really accept the good times. Those are "the" times. The times that are painful, and stumbling and all encompassing grief, are times we are not really trained for. It is like everything just falls apart. Things don't fall apart when life is good. It is only when we start to fall, that we begin to fall apart, and then seemingly cannot catch ourselves and we keep falling. It seems that after the amazing amount of time man has roamed this earth, that we would cope better. People generally don't seek guidance and counseling and support when their lives are great, but watch out when their lives are going bad--they cannot find enough support, looking anywhere they can--I know this too well. .

As I write this, I see dozens of photos go across the screen on my other computer. So many of me, smiling away. These are all happy times. It is so easy when things are good. The smiles just leap from your lips. You don't need to think ahead of what will make you happy, how to side step difficult subjects, how to make it through, because there is nothing you are hiding from. But watch out when things fall apart. The day will stretch on for an endless amount of time, you will yearn for sleep and quiet and steer clear of social settings that might expose you, might expose the sadness that lives just underneath the facade of the happy face to make it through the day. The tears that will spill over if the slightest memory is invoked in the simplest conversation.

It is like this section of a trail, that is endless, with nothing to do but walk. The first part was brutal, rugged, one could barely breathe. Then it opened up to nothingness. There just is this trail, endless, and there is no way back, only forward. That is where I am at these days. I often feel lost in thought, thoughts that do not serve me or help me, but spring up all over the place. I live in kind of a place of past memories and present upset with no future around the corner. Just this endless trail. It is hard to know unless one has been on a trail like this. Even though I have, it is not like I resort back to my "survivor training." It is like doing it all over again for the first time. The mind seems to forget these things as quickly as they are over. It is like we are all alone with ourself. Helpful guides do pop up along the trail if we seek them, and they are useful, so loving and helpful, but as the day fades and the next one starts, the guides too have their own trails to attend to. At some point every day, the trail must be walked alone.

Grieving and Grieving

I sit here and stare at the screen. Like the mother tells the 2 year old "use your words," I find myself saying that to me. But I am overwhelmed these days of what words to choose. The other day I was outside doing some yardwork, and listening to music in my ears. I was suddenly overtaken by sorrow, just struck down, and I found myself on my knees on my patio in search of solace, as I felt my life had just passed me by, like a bus driving by that I did not catch in time. I could see myself there on the patio, and I felt sad for me. I had to go inside to catch my breath, and I was able to find my way back. I realized I am still in grief, but now I am grieving for a life I thought I had, but never really did (before I was grieving for a life I had (but did not know I did not have..if that makes sense.) So grief just engulfs me these days. It is so hard to be almost 45 and feel like life has not turned out. I cannot escape the legacy I have created for myself, or was created, whatever, it does not matter. I wish it was like school, and I could do some extra credit, and raise my grade, and erase the old grade. But not so in life. No matter what I do, I now have this legacy I do not want, that I cannot never get rid of. I have a legacy for my two children about their mom, that I do not want them to have, and it really bothers me.

If I go on to write a best seller, run a marathon, scale a mountain, make tons of money and live the life in a tropical paradise that I have always envisioned..I would give it all up, IF I could just have the life I thought I had, just have it work, not even perfectly. If I could just be with the one I loved, so much, if it was real, that is what I would do. I hate the idea of putting so much time, and effort and trust and love into something, to have it never work out, basically blow apart in a million pieces in my face, and just be nothing. This is hard for me.

I am very envious of all the married people I know, who are making it through. Who are creating these amazing legacies for themselves and their children. Who are standing the test of time. I don't want to be a 2x divorced woman of 44, I don't want that. I don't want to start over. I want what I thought I had, and see that it was all an illusion and it makes it so hard to deal with on so many levels. It just leaves me feeling so alone and lost and failing. There is just no way around these feelings. I am alone on this path, it is my lonely path for now. I am open to it leading to brighter days, but at the moment find it hard to imagine not being stuck in failure on so many levels. I never wanted to be a member of people in their 40s getting divorced.

Shattered

I have not cried so much lately, and it has been a welcome relief. But as I cry a bit now, I resent having red puffy eyes again, and it is like a whole other thing to deal with.

This past week may have been the most brutal of my life. I found things out, that I would never in my most wildest thoughts imagined. It was like being steamrolled. I could barely get to sleep the first night. I felt there was “no place to go.” Tears were not the answer. I just could not escape me and the information I had discovered.

You think you know someone, at least you hope what you knew or believed was pretty close and then you are so blown out of the water that you cannot even catch your breath.
Beyond people you cannot live without, but must let them go, there is also learning things you did not know but must find out, and that pretty much sums up last week.

And while I have been so blown away by it all and angry on some level, but also have had to remove myself from the picture without really falling apart, there is now a part blending in a bit that truly has been let down, betrayed to the highest level, and I have to say it is a pretty tough cross to bear. I wonder how someone who “loves” someone and stood up and took vows, could so crush that person, so crush them, beyond what even seems possible.

But I realized that vengeance does not serve me, it just takes me down a path I do not want to go. It almost becomes like an addiction which is so not what I want to continue to have over someone. I realize I must let so many things go. I must let them go. I must realize it is not about me, but it is a pretty hard pill to swallow. I am overwhelmed again, maybe just so much reality is so much for me, and processing it all and still keeping myself in high regard and moving towards the future, it is a lot. As I may have written before, my sister in law wrote me that people are such disappointments and she is so right. It is just so hard to get past it all. To have reality or just an illusion so crushed, like a snow globe just being crushed on the sidewalk in a million pieces, it is a lot for the human heart to handle. But we all must keep going, what else is there to do.

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.