God Bless My Broken Road

I sit today to write with a burning question in my heart.  I write not because I have the answers and I want to share my knowledge…but because I don’t.

I have been abused.  I have been emotionally abused.  I have been verbally abused. I have been physically abused.  I have been sexually abused.

I have not been abused by strangers, but men I chose to be with…and chose to stay with.

That’s a hard pill for me to swallow.

I am talking about it…and I encourage others too, as well.

Recent happenings have had the dust kicked up and has me self-reflecting, more than usual anyway.  My first husband, father to my oldest child, was arrested last week…for domestic assault, no less…and highlighted in the local news pages.  This man has been MIA for over a decade.  And even then it was a one-time encounter after many years of no contact.  He abandoned his child, physically and financially.

His arrest, and him surfacing, has me recounting the details of our past history.  My son has no recall of any events while we were married (Thank God) being that he was just over a year old when we separated.  And when I say separated…I mean that there was the final and scary act of violence.  Leaving me with some haunting memories that I haven’t visited in quite some time.  There were a few violent encounters in our relationship…the last one involving a lot of bruising, weapons, police lights at our house in the middle of the night and restraining orders…not unlike my last relationship finale.

This has me asking…how the hell…why the hell…have I had myself in relationships with people like this!!??  I find myself to be somewhat intelligent.  Emotionally grounded.  Rational.  And I wasn’t stuck.  I read a lot of articles of women who are afraid to leave.  That wasn’t me.  I was NOT afraid…I was pissed off and hurt (Well, in the moment of violence…I was afraid…but when the dust settled and I was no longer being dominated…I held my ground!).  I demanded a solution.  For them to fix the problem.

And they agreed.  I have been to more couples counseling than I would care to have…and seen people go to on their own.  Regardless of the help that was being sought…the result has been the same.

The cycle of violence that’s published on the internet is a real thing.  Even if I don’t have the answer as to how I got into those relationships yet, I understand why I stayed.  For a time anyway.  The honeymoon phase.  I remember in one relationship that was going through the intense and rocky phase…that I would just wish for it to blow-up and for the fall-out to happen so we could get to the point where he would be sorry and doting.  Totally messed up.  However, I know I am not alone.  At least I don’t think I am.

I can thankfully say that I am now in a non-violent nor abusive in any manner relationship.  It’s not perfect, nor should it be.  Two personalities coming together is bound to have some conflict and growing pains, but it’s calm and respectful and loving.  Hallelujah.

I speak openly in my relationship about my past and my hurts and questions about my decisions.  I am still trying to sift through how I got into the situations I was in…but if not for anything…I am glad my path was the way it was (I was reminded of this over the past few days by both my oldest child and my boyfriend).  I have four beautiful children (and the wisdom gained) that are the result of my road traveled.

So, while I haven’t answered my question as to why I chose some men like I did (please note…not all were abusive…my longest relationship to date, albeit high conflict at the end with husband number two, was not abusive)…I know this was the journey I was meant to have.  And I am more than okay with the family that was the product of that journey.

God bless this broken road.

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I urge those in these types of relationships to speak up, get help and get out.  Just get out.  In my experience…it gets no better.  Progressively, it gets worse.  I am lucky enough to be here to talk about it and no further damage or injury was experienced. Speak up.  Get out. ❤

 

 

 

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My balance…

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I’ve been itching to blog for a few weeks now.  I have had plenty of opportunity, however, I usually need to be spontaneously inspired and I sit and I don’t stop writing until I hit “publish”.  Sometimes it takes all of 15 minutes to blog a thought.  Sometimes hours.  It is usually sparked by something I am feeling passionately about…grief or happiness being the usual suspects (talk about one end of the spectrum to the other!).

Today brings us here by way of both…as I came across this memory this morning.

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Posted on Facebook 3 years ago:

Wendy Lee Auger is feeling grateful.
November 17, 2015 at 2:35 PM · Sanbornton ·
I believe Life is 10% what happens to you… And 90% what you make of it. 10% of me is pretty broken and hurting… But 90% is feeling pretty good, content and fulfilled. That’s not a bad ratio….

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It got me thinking about how I came to be able to focus on the positives.  Even during my negatives.  I know it’s a choice, but it really comes natural for me.  Like that’s how I’m wired.  It then brought me to look at my upbringing, what molded me and my sisters.  The four of us girls are really different in a lot of ways…but we are very similar in this department.  Three out of four of us have had significant losses (all of us struggles and bumps) over the past few years.  Me losing the father/father-figure to my kids from liver failure six years ago…and my next boyfriend to cancer three years later, one sister losing her husband in a car crash five years ago…and one sister losing her son to an overdose just shy of two years ago.  That’s some serious crap right there in our little family.  And you know what?  We all mourn/ed and we all grieve.  And we all will.  And we live.  We find joy in our life.  We all have done it in our own time…in our own way…and we are all working through it still.  But we do it.

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So, if there’s one thing (know there are many) I can thank my parents for…it’s instilling in us ladies to pick ourselves up and keep moving.  Not necessarily by dealing with death…but by any adversity.  I don’t recall any wise words or lessons taught with regard to this, but clearly there’s something there in each of us that made us this way.  Don’t sit there and dwell on what’s not right…what happened to you…or why your life sucks.  Feel it, deal with it and then figure out how to take the next step.

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Don’t get me wrong, I am not saying that there’s no looking back or that the pain shouldn’t be felt or visited.  My feeling is that it is a natural and healthy progression of grief to continue to feel it.  Let it be there, but eventually keep it tucked in your pocket so you can move through your days with laughter, smiles and happy tears…and take it back out when it’s time.  Yes, here and there it jumps right out at you with no warning sending you into a grief attack (that’s what I call them), however, I think if you eventually get to that 90%/10% or so ratio…you are doing better than okay in my book.

I am very blessed to have a great man in my life who is understanding when that optimum balance I strive for gets knocked off kilter.  Or that he is just seeing my 10% up close and personal.  A few weeks ago, I was getting in my own head about our relationship…Corey and I are closing in on being together for a year now.  I was doing the typical analyzing thing I do.  I started thinking of how differently we now view each other, and in which ways we still see each other the same.  It’s interesting to me as we worked together for six years prior to our fateful trivia meet up as co-worker friends…leave as something much more night.

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“What about me is the most surprising thing to you after getting to know me more, moving in together and becoming part of my family?” I asked…well, I texted it…that’s how we roll.

My thoughts ran wild before I received his response.  I figured it would be something like that I struggle with organization…or that I sleep with my socks on…or that I always have candles lit/music on…or that I suck as a housekeeper (I knew he would never ever say that to me…but I figured it may cross his mind!!).

Nope.  That wasn’t his answer.

“That you still hold on to so much pain”.

I was mind blown.  In hindsight, it makes perfect sense. But when I read that…I was really shocked.  The grief and pain are such a normal feeling for me, I rarely realize they are even there.  I was sad for the answer (albeit slightly relieved my housekeeping skills didn’t take the cake!), but the more I have thought about it…the more I get it.  He is on the inside now.  He doesn’t just see me at the grocery store, or serving a dinner or a beverage at work…or spying my dance-jam in the new Corolla at the red light.  He see’s me waking up on the “angelversaries”.  The birthdays.  The random days in-between.  He sees me after I filled the paperwork out for school and sports when on the “father” line is deceased.  He now lives with the pain by proxy.  My 10%.

So folks, here’s a few things.

I  wanna say thank you to my parents for whatever, however, you instilled it in us girls to keep trucking on and finding our joy.  Sisters…keep rocking on with your bad selves through all the adversity and what’s handed to you, you’ve got this.  To all of you reading this in your journey of pain and grief…getting it in your pocket will be attainable, please trust me on this.

And finally to my guy, Corey.  Thank you for being you…and letting me be me.  Disorganized me, socks on at night me, lighting candles and singing off-key me, messy me.  And in pain me…sometimes.  Happy me…most times.

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Time to Heal…My Own Way.

Healing is a process.  It doesn’t look the same for any two people.  There are “stages” that are outlined for how people usually deal with loss…and I agree with that.  But it’s not an even flow from one to the next.  And sometimes you get stuck in a stage.

I feel like that I am genuinely happy…but even still, I am stuck in the anger.  I am very angry about the closing, and content, of my last relationship.  Not with every waking breath, but it’s there.  I can easily feel pleasure and I smile almost all the time.  That doesn’t mean that right under the surface I am not enraged.

At the risk of pissing off a few people…I am choosing to write about it.  I am getting more and more angry as the days go by instead of it dissipating.  While I am settling into a very amazing new relationship, I am still reeling about the former one.  It’s not keeping me from enjoying one ounce of romance and excitement…but in those quiet moments…I slip to where I just came from.

The letter came in the mail this week dictating to me the outcome of the hearing from the County House of Corrections from last month…the last incident.   The sentence he should have served is suspended with two years good behavior, but the fact that there’s Domestic Violence charges read loud and clear to me and just resonates.  It has snapped me into a bad place.

Shhhhh…..

Right?  I am not supposed to talk about it?

I am supposed to move on and heal…but just don’t say out loud what happened.  It’s not fair to him.  He was wronged growing up.  He’s not a monster.

Guess what?  I think differently.

I think I let a man into my life hesitantly.  One who gave, gave, gave.  “Too good to be true” is what I kept saying about the way my needs were tended to.  Of course, the immaturity here and there and what I considered obnoxiousness at times were smoothed over with the constant doting…for me and the family.  I always worried, though, about the wolf in sheep’s clothing.  Sadly, I was correct.

I gave him me.  An already wounded me.  And the biggest part of me.  My family.

My family was treated well by him.  No denying that.   I gave him this family that has been through a ton.  Kids that have lost their father figure.  A little boy that lost his one and only father.  That looked to this guy as his potential Step-Dad.  The only living Dad he would have.  I gave him that.

I am so unbelievably angry that he was so careless with this gift.  That because he had a crappy upbringing, he used that to excuse his violent outbursts.  He used that to excuse laying his hands on me.  Slamming me into the dashboard of his truck. He used that to excuse biting…yes, biting me…like an animal in a fit of rage.  I am still marked from that incident…from over a year and a half ago.

Shhhhh…

It’s not fair to speak of these things.  It’s not fair to him.  He’s not a monster.

Guess what?  I still think differently.

If those things were okay to do to me at the time, I feel they are okay to speak of today.

Why the hell do people think it’s better for me to keep it quiet to protect him?  Protect his feelings.  His honor.  Where the hell were you at two a.m. when he was in a rage and I was doing everything I could to de-escalate a situation that I had no idea how the outcome would be…fearing the worse.   The last one ultimately damaging a lot of people.

Just SHHHHHH!

Right?  I should just be silent and deal with it quietly?  We don’t want to embarrass anyone?

I am not trying to piss anyone off, but I am the one that is pissed off now.  Pissed off and hurt.  Pissed off and trying to heal…

I speak in hopes to heal some of this resentment.  I refuse to purse my lips to protect those that were so careless with me and mine.  I speak to let some of you that are stuck in a shitty situation, whether like the one I speak of or something different…that although there’s this process to go through…and sometimes you get stuck in for a bit…there’s another side to that life.  A decent one. A happy one.

I am holding tight to the hope that this is another step in my healing and I release some of this hostility by opening up more.  I honestly hope that the person that caused me this anger is finding their own way of healing to help them get healthy so they don’t do this to another family, and themselves, again.  I hope his family finds their way to forgiving him for doing and me for sharing.  I hope that if you are reading and you relate and you hurt…you find your path to safety and mending.

Bring on the next stage…

 

 

 

 

 

I’ll Do Me, You Do You.

I have so many emotions swimming around my being today.  I don’t really know where to start.  First, I guess…let’s summarize where I am.

I’m nearly 4 months distanced from the end of my previous relationship.  As I have written about, it was an abrupt and explosive ending…resulting in him going before a judge just this morning.  I haven’t seen him since, besides a chance sighting at the grocery store a few weeks back. And if he heeds what the courts have ordered, it’ll stay that way for a few more years.  It was an adjustment for the whole family.  I am still working on the guilt for exposing my children to another loss, and I am still processing everything…trying to take as many lessons with me so history does not repeat itself.  I am mildly comforted with the fact that I know I tried to always do the right thing.  I tried to be as understanding as I could of a troubled person.  Perfect? No.  But, I was not jealous, condescending or abusive at any time.  So, I actually mildly resent that someone close to the situation said that “it takes two” to me soon after.   It doesn’t take two to make an abusive and controlling relationship.  I tried to help and support as long as I could.  Hindsight is 20/20.  I would have walked at three months in, knowing what I know now.  So, the only truth in the “it takes two”…in this case, is that I stayed and allowed it to get worse.

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An odd thing, for me, happened a few days after he was removed.  As a typical procrastinator, it takes me sometime to get motivated to clean, purge…whatever.  Once I get going, I will be on a roll.  Getting going is the challenge.  So, I surprised myself by waking and walking into the kitchen and went straight for the trash bags.  I headed back to the bedroom and I started ridding the room of any and all of his belongings.  It was sad, but a freeing feeling came over me.  Almost relieved.  I knew I was never looking back unless I was looking for a lesson.  My healing was jumpstarted.

As the weeks and months have gone on, I have felt like I have claimed my life back.  It’s a struggle sometimes to keep up with everything, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.  I have done a lot of self help reading to try and fully understand where I have been.  I have done endless processing of all my past relationships and have been dissecting them, the partners I have had…and myself.  My goal has been to just stay single, for at least a year.   I was thinking maybe forever!  Not swearing off men, but I just knew that I would be a bit guarded and apprehensive to let someone in.  It’s not often that someone can come in and just connect with you in a way that makes you want more.  Trust me.  I dated for years doing the online thing.  Never. Ever. Again.

Well, that was my plan.  Anyone that knows me knows…my life doesn’t go as planned.

A Trivia Tuesday a few weeks back had me at the restaurant I work at meeting a few friends/co-workers for a fun night out.  The three of us were having a good time, and at some point through the night, the feelings shifted and the connection began.  Taking both of us by surprise.  This person I have known for six years or so and never was looked at romantically by me, and me him, was suddenly somebody I wanted to be near and to know everything about.  The two of closed the bar that night.  Since, we have seen each other countless times.  And we plan to countless more.

Cohabitating is obviously not even close to being on the table.  The kids are the priority and for the foreseeable future, keeping our family dynamic as is, is best for them.  We are just getting to know each other on a different level than we had before.  I still am left conflicted at times that it’s too soon.  Three months isn’t a whole lotta time for healing considering what I’ve gone through.  I am not shy about sharing that with him.  Or anything, for that matter.  I am digging the easygoing vibe that’s going on and I am in the driver’s seat to go as fast or slow as I need.  I am taking it one day at a time.  The easy going and one day at a time mentality, however, does not stop the fear from creeping in now and then.  Doesn’t stop me from being  hyper-focused at times that I might be missing a clue that would give away that this person is actually a wolf in sheep’s clothing.  As the days go on, I am sure that will subside.  Or, I will see what I don’t want to and that will be that.

I know people pass judgement, they’ve told me, they think I shouldn’t be dating so soon or I should “date around” and not focus on just one guy.  First, they may be right about it being soon, but it’s up to me to decide and figure that out.  I have an open dialogue with my children and talked to them about everything.  They are still grieving past losses and they know I am, too…but at the end of the day I have their blessing to do what I think is right.  Second, I am a monogamous being by nature.  I can’t “date around”, it’s not how I am wired.

My head and heart can fall fast if the recipe is right.  I am trying to be careful, aware and methodical.  Sometimes I have little control of this.  But, what I do have control of is my actions.  So, that being said, I will take baby steps with eyes wide open and try to enjoy the ride…wherever that takes me.  I still welcome the view and advice from those around me.  But know that I would hate to pass on the chance at true happiness in a relationship because it’s not the right number of weeks or months after a break-up…and even more so based on what others outside of this home think.

I am doing my best to keep my healing going.  I really don’t think it’s ever going to be completely finished.  My goal is to just keep being me.  If someone comes along, as they have now, and is willing to allow my healing to continue, let me be me, and encourage me to grow and put my kids first…and give me butterflies by their mere presence at the same time?? I don’t want to pass it by.

I’ll do me, you do you.

My Purpose

I have grown into believing that in every situation there is a lesson…and all that happens to us has a purpose.  Actually, if I think back…maybe I am just wired like that. I do distinctively recall a lot of eye rolling from my best friend through high school on when I would sputter “everything happens for a reason” whenever something adverse happened to her.  It drove her crazy!  Maybe it’s that those of us believing in this theory are just eternal optimists that are spinning each situation into having a silver lining to make ourselves feel better…but either way, it works for me that bad things don’t just happen for no reason at all.  I get to learn and evolve as I go.

Well, when someone you love dies it makes you question this theory.  Especially when it is someone who hasn’t lived a full life yet.  Someone who has children…and small ones at that.  Someone who was loved by all and fought as hard as he could and that made no difference.  He went through a hell of a year fighting and being sick for no difference in outcome than if he didn’t fight at all and just gave up.  He is gone.  It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.  He had plans, WE had plans.

This isn’t an “Everything happens for a reason” situation here.  If that was said to me a month ago…you’d get far more than an eye roll!!  However, I am beginning to look at things a bit differently as time marches on and I get further into the healing process.

I am beginning to believe that we all weren’t meant to be on this earth for 90 or 100 years.  I believe we all have a purpose…some have many purposes. Babies right through to those living 100+ years. When we are taken…our purpose(s) were served.  I’m sure Matt, over his 38 years and especially in his last year, inspired, motivated, healed, loved and impacted many.  I can’t say that there was a reason for him dying, but I can certainly say there was a reason for him living.

So many said to me over the year I was with Matt that I was an angel sent to him and then even more so just after he passed.  It made me uncomfortable because I wasn’t with him to be a saint, out of pity or for whatever reason some people thought (it was nastily said to me by a certain someone after he passed that I liked the “show” of being with Matt!!  I say prayers for that person!!).  I actually fell in love with him and he helped me more than I could have ever imagined in my own grieving process at the time.  Odd that I am left in albeit another time of grief by the one who helped me heal!

I, now that I am moving through my stages of grief and through starting a new relationship, am actually embracing being told that I was his angel.  That was MY purpose for him.  It wasn’t a cruel twist of the universe…as I first felt when he died…to give me love, healing and hope and then snatch it away like a greedy crook.  I look back and know how many times alone we spent cracking each other up.  Rides to the hospital flew by and I swear people thought we were nuts at the laughing and goofing off in the waiting rooms when everyone there was in the midst of a dire situation.  I brought him smiles, laughter and love.  And he brought me the same.  He was my angel, too.  My tears of grief that would arrive in those alone times (especially in the car!) lessened and finally disappeared because of him. The pain in my chest that I held for so long that I didn’t even realize was there…was replaced by feelings of love from and for him.  The grief never goes away, but Matt helped me live happily with it there.  A purpose he had was to help heal me and show me I was able to love again.

It’s nearing five months since he’s been gone.  I am lucky enough, and unlucky enough, to have met someone new to care for so soon.  Grief and a new partner has it’s own set of challenges for both parties.  But I see when starting a relationship without a sickness…which is all I have really known in the past decade…I was missing out on so much…even though I didn’t realize it then.   I didn’t feel like it was lacking anything…it was perfect for what it was at the time.  We were fulfilling a purpose for each other.  Just as this new man in my life is in a role of helping me heal, he is serving a purpose.  I am not sure if this is his only purpose with me and we will part ways tomorrow or next month or next year…or never…or how I am helping him, but he is making me smile and drying my tears (like literally drying them…hence the “unlucky enough” said previously).

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I am now taking comfort in all the roles people past and present have played in my life.  I am embracing all the lessons, love and healing and trying to let that take precedence over what’s been lost and gone wrong.  Eye roll all you want.

My Wish

Last night at work I was propositioned by a patron.  Not in the way that it sounds, but she had a request of me.  I am not sure what initiated the question, why she wants to know or why she chose me to ask.

This customer is one of my many favorites that comes into the restaurant.  She is a very particular woman. She likes what she likes, how she likes it.  I know the glass she prefers, when to refill her and that she likes me to pack her leftovers for her.  She makes sure she tells me just how much she appreciates my service and me as a person.  She compliments me endlessly while I work.  As I go about my duties I like to observe her and her relationship with her life partner, another woman I really like.  The respect they show for each other is heartwarming.  Our conversations are always insightful.  About the restaurant business and occasionally personal life.

“What is your wish for your children?” was her question.

She didn’t need me to answer it right then…she asked me to write it down and I am to share it with her at a later date.  She asked me not to think of the general “world peace” and “end hunger” type of wish…but what I wanted for each of the children individually.  She guessed that it would vary from child to child based on their personalities…and she was right.

I shared with her that I thought it was ironic that “My Wish” was the song I chose for the Mother/Son dance at my eldest’s wedding 2 years ago.  I told her to listen to those words…and that would say it all. But after I got to thinking, I realized that I had more specific wishes for each of them…all very different.

Here they are my special hat wearing, whiskey drinking, fancy glass wielding, song singing, thought provoking conversationalist.

For James, now 23. My wish for him is that he continue to be the God fearing man that he has grown into.  That he continues to be the husband every girl deserves. That he continues to be the adoring and smitten Daddy with just the right amount of faith, love, worry and keeping-it-real to raise an amazing daughter.  See, my wishes seem to have come true with this man.  I couldn’t have hand picked a better wife for him or to be the mother of his child.  I couldn’t be more proud of how he takes care of his family (Insert a shout out to my Dad for being a wonderful role model in that department!). My future wish is for him is continued love between him and his wife and that they grow together through the years and not apart.  To always have that friend by his side loving him, supporting him and encouraging him to be a just little bit better than he was the day before.

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For DJ, now 16.  In this day and age it is very scary to have a teenager.  The demons that are out there and are readily available to our children is frightening.  My wish for DJ is that he sees and recognizes a bad path when it’s in front of him and turns and chooses one that is best for him.  I wish that on that path he gains self confidence in himself and recognizes what his talents and strengths are and uses them to make his living in adulthood.  That he understands the importance of putting in hard work and the benefits you reap because of it.  Mainly pride and self worth. That he deletes “can’t” and “won’t” from his vocabulary and that he believes in himself enough to know that he is as capable of just about anything. My wish is for him not to let fear deter him from pursuing anything, but for him to feel the accomplishment of pushing through it…whether it be asking a girl out or going for a promotion or moving to a faraway land. My wish is for him to always respect the female he will be with.  To know her boundaries and to make sure she respects his.  For him to fall madly and deeply and dizzily in love.

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For Mackenzie, now 13. This is a tough age for a girl. Tween and teen girls, well, can be pure evil.  This is a time that self esteem dictates a lot of decision making.  My wish for her now is that she does not underestimate her self worth. That she not only surrounds herself with people that build her up, but she do the same for those she’s near.  A few small words can make or break someone, my hope is that she understands this.  My wish is that she respect her body and her mind and to not let anyone touch either one in a way she does not want or like. That she listen to her inner voice and let that guide her through her teen years and not be swayed by peers or others that she may encounter that will try and violate any part of her being. My wish is that she learn to enjoy where she is and what she has while still maintaining that healthy thirst for better or more.  That she continues to use the tools she is learning through her competitive cheer of hard work and determination and how it pays off and let it carry on into all areas of her life.  That when she’s grown she finds a man to treat her like she truly deserves, that he loves her and dotes on her and respects her and she does the same for him, both while never taking it for granted.

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For Brayden, now 4. Only having four years to get to know Bray…his personality traits aren’t as well defined as the others, so my wishes for him aren’t as exact.  My wish is that the energy he has gets channeled into positive outlets as he grows.  That he puts it on the field or court or gym or wherever he feels he is comfortable.  My wish is that nothing touches his kind nature to harden him.  My wish is that his bright little mind continues to flourish and that he keeps his quest for knowing everything about anything going.  My wish is that he continues to get loved on by his older siblings and they remain a constant in his life as he trails them into adulthood.  That he not feel a void of having his Daddy gone, but to be reminded by those that knew and loved him of all his positive qualities and funny stories.  That alcohol and drugs do not play any role in his life.  My wish is that he is guided by positive male role models along the way, that he is shown how to respect himself and others.  Not just how I show him, but how a man is to do it.  How to provide and be present for his family.  That he finds and holds onto love.

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For all of my children.  Show compassion and respect, even when it’s not deserved. Own your mistakes. Never show up to a gathering empty handed. Hygiene is mandatory. Keep laughter in your life. And don’t ever forget your Mom loves you with everything that she is, you are her world…she is there for you no matter what.  She has been adoring you since the first second she saw you.  And she always will.

My realization in writing this blog today and answering my friend’s question is that it took a bit of soul searching to write.  What did I wish that I had for myself at those ages…what would’ve bettered me…kept me safer…protected me from harm.   What was it that did impact me in a positive way.  It was a nice way to reflect and to maybe help me choose some actions or words to share with my kids along the way to help the wishes I have for them come true.

Thanks K.

“Give Sorrow Words”

“Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak whispers the o’er-fraught heart and bids it break.” ~ Shakespeare

This insightful quote…and the encouragement of my kids…leaves me opening up a blank page and continue writing.  Keeping grief locked up keeps the pain locked up.  I’ll give my sorrow words…

Three years ago, I came to learn about real grief for the first time in my life.  I had lost numerous people…but when it is someone so close…someone you let into your heart…it’s far different.  This first experience was with my son’s father.  I guess it’s probably the same feeling as when you lose a best friend, parent, sibling, or even worse…God forbid a child.  I guess I was lucky making it 41 years escaping that pain.

So, this time around, losing Matt a week ago, it doesn’t hurt any less.  However, this time around I have some hope that I won’t always be stuck where I am.  That feeling where I just want it to be bed time so I can sleep (well, lie there and try and sleep), having that walking around in a fog type of feeling, just plain being non-functional.  Like not remembering how to even tie your shoes type of non-functional.

This time, I am able to see the milestones and know that I am headed in the right direction.  Today, for instance, I made my cup of coffee this morning and came to the computer rather than back to bed.  Baby steps.  I clicked on the website for the grocery store circular armed with paper and pen.   The goal was  to make a list and plan dinners judging on the sales and get myself out to the store…eventually. I clicked on the site.  I haven’t looked at it and the paper and pen sit in front of me untouched.  But it’s still baby steps.

Right now, I am going to put on my Pandora music stations and attempt to get some cleaning done.  Then get back to my grocery list.  I don’t know how far I will get, but getting the music on and out of this chair (and avoiding my bed) will be steps in the right direction.  Moving forward…