Unexpected reminders...

It's funny how you can feel like you're past something so certainly. You can feel yourself moving on, and you give thanks for that. You even start to get excited about the possibility of the future. That's when you know you have grown and healed from the hurt of a love that was lost.

Then, unexpectedly, one thing can hit you so squarely in the jaw that you find your mind spinning all over again as if it were the first day you knew it was over.

By the light of morning, I can reason it away. I can see that maybe it was God's way of showing me something that I can look forward to in the future. But, in the moment I read his letter, I felt devastated all over again.

My first love after divorce, may have been my truly first experience with that heart-racing thing that most think of as new love. It may sound sad to have not experienced this, because I was married for almost two decades to someone who cared for me deeply. But, it isn't that there wasn't love there. It just wasn't THIS kind of love.

Things ended poorly with this one, unfortunately. In comparison, I am good friends with my ex-husband and we work daily to support our kids together. He is moving on and about to be remarried to the woman he began dating just weeks after I'd moved out. And, I am truly happy for him and have told him as much. No, this most recent love ended abruptly with hurt, mean words thrown back and forth like weapons leaving marks as they passed through us. I was left very jaded and confused as to whether this man ever really loved me at all.

Last night, I found a letter he wrote me and gave me the first time we met in person. You see, we met online and talked for months before we ever saw one another in person. And, it was a strange and amazing thing that happened there....the connection we had just from words on a phone, texts, and shared photos. I had forgotten about how powerful the connection had been--until I read that letter that had been tucked in the back of a nightstand in a plain white envelope for me to stumble across one day.

The letter was an explanation of a CD he'd made me of love songs and songs that reminded him of me or that meant something powerful to him. Each song, introduced and explained in his amazing way. And, at the end, he spoke about this rare connection we had, and how excited he was about our future together. I could feel his happiness and anticipation in the words. A rush of what it was like came back to me, like a gust of wind that takes you by surprise on a fall day.

I took my breath in as I read the ending that I'd long since forgotten. He told me he loved me, even though he'd never laid eyes on me in person before. And, I remembered distinctly how it felt to read that--to feel so unconditionally loved for who I was as a human being. My marriage had not been like that. I'd spend most of our relationship feeling like my ex was never happy with who I was, always trying to change me into what he thought I should be. But, this had been different. I had been truly adored and loved for my heart and my mind, before a kiss had ever been placed on my lips by this dear man.

I wish I could have felt last night what I feel this morning---the sentimental realization that maybe that feeling will come to me again in a new relationship. Maybe THAT relationship will last forever and I will be able to read a letter like that to him as we laugh and remember how we met.

But, I didn't feel that way. I felt sucker-punched. I felt cheated and angry and confused all over again. I felt panicked about my future and wondered if I'd made a mistake by ending that relationship when the problems became bigger than the love. Today, I know that it was the right thing to do. Last night, I was desperate and heart-broken all over again, cursing myself for not putting the letter away with other memories I'd stored of our experience together.

This morning, when I awoke, I took in a ragged deep breath and realized that maybe I needed to find that letter right now. Maybe instead of leveling me, I should let it remind me of how it can be when you first fall in love. Maybe it is my reminder of what I deserve in a relationship, so that as I make my way through life as a single woman, I will be selective and not settle for less than knock-your-socks-off, simply amazing love...

Surviving Christmas

I planned it all ahead. Knowing my kids would be with their Dad, and I would not be able to go be with my family, I made sure I had lots going on this Christmas.

I had a big project (cleaning out my closet), I had social invitations and plans (a massage, church, then dinner on Christmas Eve, movie/lunch plans Christmas Day), and I had back-up ideas (work, work on a presentation, more home projects). It was all very well thought out, down to the wine I made sure I had ready, just in case I needed it.

It really didn't matter. I could have booked every hour, every minute, and every second out. But, the second my mind went to them, I'd have the same feeling no matter what. I miss my children this Christmas. And, things don't seem right.

The wonderful thing is, I'm one neighborhood away from them, and their Dad has offered to let me come by briefly this morning so I can hug and kiss them and see what Santa brought.

It's not the same. I won't kid you.

Last night, when Santa came for my darlings, it was probably delivered by their Dad and his girfriend. I sat and drank wine and watched a movie and tried to not think about what I was missing. As my head hit the pillow, I let myself feel it for just a minute and I cried and prayed. I considered that I just did that once, and only for a few minutes, a huge accomplishment for the day.

This morning, I woke up at 5:30 a.m. I am not a morning person, but the past two days that I have had to sleep in, I have been up by 6 a.m. I'm not sure why. I guess my body feels something is off. Something is not right in the universe. Every bit of my being wants to be with them right now.

I know that I'm not the first person in the world to deal with this, and my situation is actually much better than a lot of divorced parents. Last night, I was thankful for what might seem like very small things to some people. A friend saved me a seat at church, so I didn't have to sit alone as I typically do. I met two friends for dinner after and we laughed and talked about our futures (we are all newly divorced).

Then, I drove home and instantly noticed all the cars on my normally empty street. Families celebrating. Once home, my eyes went to my Christmas card pictures people had sent. I always set them out and enjoy them throughout December. Every single one of them was of a family this year. The whole family. Together. This would be the first year that I didn't spent Christmas with any family whatsoever. That was one thing I hadn't thought about, actually...

I have learned a lot this year. I have had validation that what happened in my marriage needed to happen--we were not good for one another and our kids have happier parents now.

I have learned what it is like to have someone adore you and how it feels to be swept-off-your-feet and giddy in love. I have learned how hard a break-up can be when your kids become attached and also when you have to recognize something that isn't good for you even if you want it to be.

I have learned how cruel a person can be when he/she is  confused and angry. I learned that, at some point, things are over and you can't love things back to normalcy--even in friendships.

I have learned to sit in a quiet home and just be. I have learned how to sleep and sleep well at night for the first time since probably my early 20s. I have learned that once I give myself a break on working out and eating right, I eventually return to missing being fit and eating right and I start trying to live right again.

I've learned things balance themselves out. A good glass of wine can really help during difficult times, but more than one is definitely too much. That having a sweet kitty crawl on you as you veg on the couch can make your heart smile, especially when he purrs. You heart can break and you can never think it will heal, but slowly it does.

Most of all, I know that all of this was part of God's plan for me. I wish that made this easier, but I have to have faith that better days are ahead and that I will find true contentment and peace. For the most part, I am happier today than I was a year ago. And, I truly hope that next year I can say the same.

Surviving Christmas without your family will change you, even if you plan it out to a "t." But maybe, just maybe, it will change you in good ways that make you never take things for granted ever again. God bless you and yours this Christmas!

Pardon me, but I have to get this out.

I know, I know. I have all but abandoned this blog. But, I think I need an outlet. So, here goes:
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People are weird. These are my notes for the world today. There are things that I find kind of obvious, but apparently others do not:

• If you organize a complex outing, please send out a coherent list of “things to bring” to attendees please—not a series of text-heavy rambling emails that people will have to disect like a science experiment to get the information needed. I mean, seriously!
• If someone makes a joke, laugh. It’s OK to laugh in the workplace. REALLY. We all know you are still working. We're just trying to make work a little less...well worky.
• Replying back to a text is common courtesy. It does not signify that you are madly infatuated and can’t live without someone. Really. Just answer the damn text. It’s not some kind of a test. Also? Get over yourself already...
• If you don't work, please recognize that some people do. I stayed home and worked out of my home for a decade and didn't forget this. Why do you? While I'm at it--PTO presidents and neighborhood association nazis who schedule their meetings mid-morning? Good luck finding volunteers for your events this year or getting elected again next year. KAZOWWWW!

And, I'm done...

Two sets of eyes

I went to a movie with the kids today. What movie really makes little difference to this post, but I'll say it was Mall Cop with animals--only not as funny in my book. I sat in the movie and was thinking that very thing: This kid movie isn't boring, because I am not asleep right now, but it is not that great either.

And, then I felt two sets of eyes on me. Four eyes kept watching. When I smiled, I saw smiling eyes in my peripheral vision. As the movie went on, I felt the eyes move on to me several times, guardedly watching to see if I was enjoying the movie too. I sensed them hanging on to see if I smiled or laughed at the funny parts, and so I made sure that I did. Even if they weren't that funny. And, like clockwork, the four eyes would rotate back to the screen--almost as if synchronized.

I realized in that moment, that my happiness really does matter to my children. I put my arm around my youngest girl and a hand on my son's knee. I let my son lean his head on me and soaked in a wonderful moment of his pre-teen self letting go of being embarrassed of Mom long enough to show he loved me. And, my heart soaked it up like a great piece of bread soaks up the gravy--saving the feeling of that for the angst-ridden teen years ahead when I will need it most.

Later, on the drive home, my kids were playing an animated round of Texas Hold-Em in the back seat, completely enjoying the game with one another. So, I made a phone call to my boyfriend. The conversation turned to serious things, then a quick misunderstanding of words, and several more serious exchanges. During all of this, I became absorbed in the call and stopped paying attention to the card playing in the back.

I didn't notice at all when they stopped playing and started listening.

Our phone conversation grew more tense. And, eventually, I managed to frustrate the heck out of my guy--a gift I seem to have a knack for that I wish I could somehow lose. I can say at this point we were in pre-argument or perhaps mini-argument mode.

That's when I felt the four eyes again. Watching. Listening quietly. Hanging on my words. I caught a few concerned looks in the rear-view mirror, their eyes quickly darting away as soon as they met my glance.

I got off the phone, but unfortunately I selfishly let my hurt and frustration continue to show on my face. I popped out of the car to grab the mail, and when I popped back in, my sweet girl was handing me a card she'd quickly made from a scrap of construction paper in the back seat and an old marker.

"This is for you," she said sweetly. Distracted, I quickly opened it, my mind on other things. That's when the words jumped out at me:

"Mom, I love you. Thank you for all the nice things you do for us."

Again, I felt two sets of eyes watching my expression. My son added,

"We really had fun today, Mom."

Today, more than ever, I realized two very important things.

First, that my happiness does really matter to my kids and it can directly affect their happiness. All the years I had growing up in a home with a mother who was chronically depressed and anxious, came flooding back. The way I somehow subconsciously felt that my own mother's happiness relied upon my own worth and accomplishments. How could I lose sight of this very important thing? The very thing, in fact, that helped me made my final decision to divorce just under a year ago.

And, secondly, that no matter how I like to think that my children do not notice when my mood dips, they really do. And, they really need to know that their Mom is OK right now, after all that we've been through.

I am left tonight with a feeling of such completely gratitude for my loving children, coupled with a serious determination to not let those two sets of eyes show worry for me like that, as much as I can help it, in the months and years to come.