I’ve grown comfortably accustomed to my husband working out of town. Would I rather have him working locally? Of course. But we both realize sometimes sacrifices must be made in order to earn a living. We’ve been blessed in more ways than I can begin to count, this would include us both having successful careers as well as remaining gainfully employed.
For a while now, I’ve felt like my one life has been split into two different realms of existence. I don’t know quite how to describe this feeling; it’s just weird. I really had gotten used to these different realms – because at the end of every week, my husband would be back home. Each week I would morph from my single-life-working-girl realm back into my ‘whole’ realm which includes my husband on the weekends. Oh how I cherish the whole realm… I anticipate it’s arrival the entire week.
Last month Keith was given notice that his new job site was not only much further from home, but also mandated overtime hours – meaning no more coming home time for a good while. It’s so strange. Now I can see these two familiar realms being transformed into a new third existence. An existence where I just… am. Literally, I’m just there. Not sure what to really do. Yeah, it’s pretty tough to explain, obviously.
I miss him. Badly.
I do realize he could be deployed overseas for many months at a time. I am grateful that’s not the case. While I don’t whine out loud much about the situation (doesn’t do any good and no one really wants to hear about it anyway), I can and will write about it. That much at least helps.
I’m not afraid, quite the contrary. It’s the loneliness factor that comes into play… that empty hole feeling inside my gut. This is in addition to feeling like I’m thrown into this third identity. It’s not the same as living alone as I’ve done in the past. It’s quite different than living alone, because I actually know what I’m missing… and, what we both are missing out on.
My, how I’ve missed my little weblog. The last time I posted, Keith had hit a deer with his truck. He thankfully escaped injury to his self, but his truck (and the deer) was a hot mess.
What I failed to mention was the very next day was to be our 5th annual New Years beach trip. I was honestly ready to cancel any out of town plans at this point, but he seemed intent on going and rented an SUV so that we could still accommodate Mojo. Our first full day there, a small tornado touched down and ripped the roof smack off our condo. I was sitting on the couch against the wall and actually felt myself being lifted when it hit. Soon after, we discovered a large piece of the roof missed hitting our rental car by mere feet. Although it doesn’t show the extent of the damage from everything that fell (roof lights, concrete bags, etc.) here’s a photo of the aftermath.
Parts of the roof are visible on top of the adjacent restaurant and under the palms on the asphalt. Keith had just walked Mojo in this same area 10 minutes prior to it happening. What is it they say again about those silver linings?
Aside from a lot of cleanup noise including chainsaws, a crane and lots of workerbees – the rest of the trip was awesome. One of my favorite memories would be our farewell balloons. We each assigned a few private hells from our past, then sent them out to sea forever. The picture’s pretty poor, but believe me when I say it’s very therapeutic to watch these babies go until you can’t see them anymore. Then they’re just… gone.
I so enjoy watching the souls of the surfers… had to share this shot.
Flash forward to now. Other than a few sushi dinners, a winter storm, watching my fellow southerners make national news with their stupid driving, a dog that wouldn’t allow us to build a snowman, an extreme gum-popper at work, a few dozen Twilight movie reruns, a couple nice unplanned car repairs and vet visits, and a sick husband diagnosed with pneumonia at the urgent care today – life has been pretty typical since the first of the year. Aside from the temporary pneumonia bit, we’re still on our honeymoon and we don’t see that ending anytime in the near future. 😀 But I’ve definitely got my nurse Bon hat on, the poor guy.
Have I mentioned I’m stoked for full-time flip-flop wear again?
2013 – time just keeps ticking on by, doesn’t it? Jerry Garcia once wrote into a song, ‘Lately it occurs to me… what a long strange trip it’s been.’ This is surely the truth.
It’s hard for me to believe the series of events that have been jam-packed into one lone year. Honestly, I’d never have believed it even if someone had forewarned me. A lot of things stand out, too many to mention really. If you follow my blog, you know them already anyway.
Every year, I pick one word in an attempt to describe the year. 2008 was Monumental. 2009 was Colorful. 2010 was Serene. 2011 was Transitional.
2012 was Disclosure. That one just looks so out of place with the others, I figured it deserved it’s own paragraph.
I hadn’t even thought about a word for this year, until my husband started monkeying around with our dog while using the word on him. Only then did it hit me – BAM… there’s my word.
My word of 2013 is Persistence. Maybe I should say it’s Keith’s word instead, since it was his own persistent efforts that played out in both our favors. In any case, I’m forced to use it just because it fits better than a glove.
Continuing firmly or obstinately in a course of action in spite of difficulty or opposition. Donning your suit of armour, setting forth a plan of action for something you feel you can’t live without, never accepting defeat – making something so worthwhile to you actually happen.
Gotta admit I admire your persistence, baby. And at least Mojo’s pronunciation of the word is considerably different than our own… Per·thith·tenth.
“I know you’ve only ever known your father and me. And I love Jack, because he is your father. But there’s another kind of love, Amanda. One that gives you the courage to be better than you are, not less than you are. One that makes you feel that anything is possible. I want you to know that you can have that. I want you to hold out for it.”
~Adrienne Willis, Nights in Rodanthe
by Nicholas Sparks
Appropriately enough, this movie was released exactly three months after the ending of my 21-year marriage. To date, it’s the only movie I saw at a theater more than once. I actually saw it on three separate occasions, taking a different girlfriend with me each time.
I related with it on so many levels. Being alone for the first time in my adult life. Having yet to find out who I really was. A product of a looming divorce. A mother of an extremely strong-willed daughter who would have her say regardless. Never to be last… a woman who fought to maintain her dream that a true unconditional love did in fact exist, somewhere out there. Hey, it might’ve been a dream – but it was my dream.
When you do find that kind of love, you want your loved ones to know that it’s out there for them as well. You want them to hold out for it.
Another kind of love.
One that gives you the courage to be better than you are, not less than you are. One that makes you feel that anything is possible.
For an enhanced viewing experience, ⬆ just click the play arrow above!
And guess what… WE DID IT!!
What started out as any other beautiful sunny September day slowly and surely graduated to rain as the evening fell. Ah, well. Thank goodness for that glorious Plan B, which is one big reason we chose this particular venue. Besides, a little rain never hurt nothin’.
The original plan was to be married by the lake in front of a beautifully draped alter adorned with hanging crystals to reflect the sun and water. As it turns out, we wed indoors in front of the fireplace – nonetheless very beautiful in it’s own unique way. (And believe me, I’ll find a fanciful DIY project with which to use the hanging crystals and reams of unused alter material!)
In addition, I’ll always have the memory of that beautiful sunset night at rehearsal.
While our real pictures are pending final edits from the photog, we’re currently depending on the ones our friends and family have so graciously supplied.
This man has made my dreams come true. Speaking of which, after the ceremony we danced back down the aisle to our chosen recessional “You Make My Dreams Come True” by Hall & Oates, with everyone behind us following suit. I consider it my very own True Romance. Hey, Tarantino… can ya top that one?
My post is simple today, though indeed thought-provoking. Below would be my number one pick of all Bob Marley’s quotes. The amount of love that erupts from this one wise paragraph has always overwhelmed me. Even so, I never could grasp the full intensity of it – just the intense yearning to someday find this beautiful kind of unconditional love. One without judgement, one that makes you want to learn new things, one that makes you feel beautiful, one where you openly invite vulnerability into your life. One Love.
Hope you enjoy.
Keith’s father’s wedding was this past weekend, and it was a beautiful ceremony centered completely around love. My future sister and her husband hosted a lovely reception at their house afterwards, which was so enjoyable. Keith’s side of the family is very kind and loving, so the time we enjoy with them is always priceless.
The older I get, the more cognizant and appreciative I am of incessant acts of selflessness. Every good thing I witness reminds me to try and be a better person. I look at it as a sort of pay-it-forward view on life, for lack of a better term.
The priest officiating the ceremony spoke about the sanctity of marriage and how you wake up each morning with the goal of putting your spouse’s needs before your own. Just because of that thing called Love. Because that’s what real love does, you want to give as much as possible when you love someone that much. It’s a mutual respect between each other that is never ending – it’s not something that changes with passing time.
When dinner time came, we stood back and waited on others to get theirs. I’ve always preferred to get my plate after everyone else has gotten theirs, never first or even middle. Keith attempted to hand me an empty plate and usher me in line. I politely refused, telling him I’d rather wait. He went on about midway through and filled his plate, while I stood conversing with a few family members. A few moments later Keith stood smiling in front of me, presenting me with a large plate of food. What he had just gotten was for me.
Now I know this might not sound like a monumental act of kindness to some, but to me it speaks volumes as to the type of man he is. This is Keith, every day. Even after four years, he’s constantly putting my needs above his own, as I do his. When I wake up every morning, he’s the first thing I think about. He’s the last thing I think about before I fall asleep. We both hold a strong mutual respect for each other. Our time apart at the beginning of the year only served to make us stronger, resulting in deeper devotion to each other as one whole. As it should be. As it always will be…
Have I mentioned we can’t wait for September to roll around?
I’m well past the time I normally post this little entry as I do at every year’s end. With each coming year, I pick a new word to try and sum up the prior year in a nutshell.
In case you missed it in priors years’ posts, here’s the rundown. 2008 was Monumental. 2009 was Colorful. 2010 was Serene, and 2011 was Transitional. The word I picked for 2012 was Disclosure.
I guess I was dead wrong in last year’s post when I said ‘this butterfly has completed her journey’. I have not. In fact, it would appear the journey never ended, and indeed is far from over.
I wanted the fairy tale ending. Can’t blame a girl for that, can ya? Even though fairy tales rarely if ever come to fruition.
The commitment I so yearned for is not to be. Over the last year I’ve heard a spectrum of excuses ranging from the somewhat believable to the absolutely ridiculous. You may remember I didn’t want to open my mouth to begin with, but with year after swift year passing, what else is there left to do? Just as I thought, as soon as I allowed those sweet thoughts to pass my lips, I felt less-than. Less than the woman I’d worked so hard to uncover – the woman who’d previously remained unknown, even to myself. I, as a whole, had immediately been lessened.
He just wasn’t ready. His job security was unforeseeable. He’d set a (silent) 5-year mark for himself before ever contemplating a commitment to anyone. He’d known all along about my wishes but avoided the issue. Why is it so important to you – it’s just a piece of paper, after all. Our exes names still remain on both our mortgages. You’re like a kid wanting candy. My credit didn’t go through. I was gonna wait until your birthday.
Like a kid wanting candy. Gotta admit that one burned.
I have to take blame where blame is due. I should never have given up my home and moved in with a man, in his house, in hopes for a commitment. I didn’t and don’t approve of living this way, and I know right from wrong. I went with my heart instead of my gut instinct, and we all know love is blind. That’s my bad.
I will have a home of my own again soon, planned for the beginning of February. After 3 1/2 years I have much healing to do and feel the need to once again find and complete my inner Bon. Being single isn’t so bad. Being in a relationship with someone who has no desire to make you a permanent fixture in their life is a bad feeling.
Here’s to 2013 and the goodness it may bring to us all. And always remember change can often be a good thing.
When is the right time to bring up a subject that means everything to you? Is there ever really an optimal moment? Perhaps it’s an instance when you’ve both had an easy day, are feeling great, and possess an entirely open mind? I don’t think that perfect moment exists.
What the hey… my life is all but a damn open book anyway. There aren’t many secrets I actually have. Don’t get me wrong, I’m good at keeping secrets – just not my own.
That word – Marriage. I finally said it out loud.
But if you remember, I sure didn’t want to. I fought broaching the subject – with good reason. What can I say, except the timing just never seemed right. I couldn’t even fathom starting up the conversation, and resented being the starter anyway. What if the response was negative? Was I really prepared for that? So I waited. I put it off as long as I could, which wasn’t very smart. Hindsight strikes again.
Question of the Day: would you consider yourself honest if you admitted knowing your partner wanted to get married, but completely withheld the fact that you don’t? My own answer would be no, it’s far from being honest. Realizing communication is an integral part of any relationship, the fact that I didn’t want to communicate it in no way exonerates me from any blame. Fact is, I should have bit the bullet and said something a long time ago. So my bad there.
The phrases ‘I’m just not ready’ and a silent ‘five-year mark’ set for himself whenever he is ready are still ringing in my head from this weekend, I guess they will for a while. For the record, I consider both naturally-born cop-out statements. It would’ve been nice to know about this five-year mark, that’s assuming it even holds water. The last time I checked, I wasn’t growing any younger.
It’s neither how he feels nor his view on marriage that I have a problem with. The pill that’s hard to swallow is him admitting to know how I felt all this time while keeping his own agenda hidden. All the hints, writings (guess he really does read my blog, at least certain ones) and printed ideas were actually seen and heard – just never addressed. The ghost subject was always skirted and left to hang suspended in mid-air. Prior occasions, day trips and vacations continually evolved into me thinking “could this be it?” – each time ending in disappointment. I realize now he ultimately had no intention of addressing or even acknowledging the subject of marriage, much less doing the deed. It was simply never an option. This has killed a portion of me inside.
“Blessed is he who expects nothing… for he shall never be disappointed.”
**Note: I have closed comments off this post, guys – just needed to vent. Love to you all.
If I have to say it out loud, it’s going to change us. It’s something that’s been in open sight for a long time now. I’ve written, hinted, and black & white printed. How much this actually means to me is well-known… though still it goes ignored and unacknowledged.
Silence is not always golden.
If I have to say it out loud, it will become clear that my aspirations are one-sided. Because saying it out loud will abolish any real chance in experiencing the joy of that profound moment – the moment when I realize that I am wanted. Really wanted.
If I have to say it out loud, it could indeed serve to confirm my deepest and darkest fears. Fears such as I’m not the one, I’m not good enough, I’m not worth the risk – perhaps even that I’m not deserving of the life I’ve yearned for so long.
If I have to say it out loud, know that will forever change our dynamics. Once it’s done, it’s done. After it’s said, we can never go back to our old life as we knew it to be before…
I had to say it out loud.
~Life of Bon, 2012
Right before bedtime last night, I found out another friend of mine had gotten engaged. I’m uber-happy for her because, well, because she’s a wonderful person and she deserves it. She has three years invested with this man, and they both know full well what they’re getting into. Isn’t her ring absolutely gorgeous??
Which got me thinking (uh-oh). Three years. That’s almost how long I have invested. Don’t worry, I’m not going there again. Oops… guess I just did.
That dreaded Kenny Rogers song has been ringing in my head all morning, so I thought I’d do you all a favor and put it in your heads too.
“You gotta know when to hold ’em… know when to fold ’em… know when to walk away, and know when to run. You never count your money… when you’re sittin’ at the table – they’ll be time enough for countin’… when the dealin’s done.”
Since my separation and divorce, the word has never passed my lips with regard to myself. I just don’t believe a woman should the first one to speak it, and I have my own personal reasons for feeling that way.
A long long time ago, I did utter it and lived to regret it. I became a prisoner of the word; listening intently to expressions of regret for the next twenty-plus years. ‘The whole thing was your idea”, I was told. Other times, “Your mother might as well have held the shotgun”. Great – my own little shotgun marriage, standing in front of a judge in a courthouse on that hot August day. How lovely. How endearing. How very valued those words made me feel.
In some ways, I think being made aware of this bitter regret only served to make me stronger. I’ve come to the realization the path to real love and commitment will never be found on a one-way street. That the word compromise actually exists for non-selfish reasons. That the amazing feeling of total and complete trust creates an airtight bond that is impenetrable.
I won’t even go so far as to throw out a hint. As far as writing about it, I’m not really concerned with who reads this. I know K doesn’t read my blog – he reminded me of that little factoid just last week. Besides, as dear old Dr. Suess once said…
Those who mind don’t matter, and those who matter don’t mind.
Amidst the daily life struggles, including controversy, drama and in-general mean and miserable people – there is a bright spot I have looked forward to for some time now. An event in which I’ve taken the entire day off from work to enjoy watching.
I’ve always enjoyed reading other people’s comments when it comes to a subject of interest. Over the past few days, a good many comments astound me. The British Monarchy’s facebook page created an event for the Royal Wedding. How about such negative comments on that as “I’ll bet 79% couldn’t give a toss about the wedding” or “So sick of hearing about this, move on to something else already.”
Seriously? You’re sick of hearing about it but you’re going to take initiative to write about how sick of it you are? That takes precious time, my friend! Newsflash – you liked the British Monarchy’s facebook page to begin with… what do you expect to read about?? The news channels are the absolute worst. Every time something is posted about the Royal Wedding, negative comments come flooding in. Have the majority of these les miserables really become so curmudgeoned to the daily routine of life that they are unable to appreciate a good love story anymore?
Maybe it’s just me, but that’s how I see it – and such is life. As for me, this old romantic shall remain upbeat and continue to appreciate a monumentally happy event. After all, who couldn’t use a little happiness?
Recently I came across a video that made quite an impression on me, and I’d like to share it with you this morning. Most of you already know that I’m one of the world’s biggest romantics. In fact, I thought I might be the biggest – up until now.
If you haven’t seen this… please take a few quiet minutes and check it out. It’s filled my heart with such joy. The story of Danny and Annie Perasa — how they met, and how they stayed in love for twenty-seven years — continues to inspire those who hear it. You can read more about them here.
And yes, this kind of love is still out there. Amazing.
I had a meaningful conversation with a coworker this morning. This guy is good as gold – case in point, he initially came in offering a bunch of cans of Progresso soup that he’d gotten in a terrific sale for a buck each. I’m thinking he must’ve bought the entire store out yesterday. I jokingly told him that with the fifty dollars worth he brought in this morning alone, his trunk must’ve been dragging the asphalt! After work today, he’s going back to buy more, and he’s planning to stock it here for other’s lunches that might be without.
While in the kitchen fixing up the morning caffeine, he talked about his kids and how they were doing in school, and how hard math was for his son. He asked if my daughter was my only one and I told him yes. He asked if it was hard for me and my husband while she was in school, when she started dating, etc., to which I replied extremely – but that I had tremendous respect for others like his self who had two and three kids in school simultaneously. Looking back on that time in life, I guess we had it pretty easy.
He asked me how long I’d been married and that it must have been hard for it to end. I agreed and said it was the absolute hardest thing EVER. That it’s easy for someone to say they understand – but it’s a pain that can only be understood by someone who has been through it their own self. That I used to be that person on the other side, saying I understood. That I’m ashamed of the fact I used to think ‘gosh, why don’t they snap out of it already?’. That because you left doesn’t always mean you wanted it to end. That it can take literally years of work to get through it. That if you were truly emotionally invested in a long-term marriage, then working through the ending of it probably will take years.
After hearing all this, he was probably sorry he’d even asked. But he always has been a good listener. 🙂
In the years we’ve all known him here, it’s always been obvious how much this guy loves his family – his wife and kids are his world. When he speaks of his wife, he does so with a gleam in his eye. The level of appreciation and respect they have together is very apparent. As we started back to work, I told him to never lose that love and respect – to hold on to it… cherish it. To which he replied with a smile, ‘I tell my wife I love her ten times a day, or more. I won’t lose it.’ Hearing that put a smile on my face the whole walk back to my desk.