Category Archives: Memories of…

On missing, longing for, the little things

After reading the article below, it became shocking clear to me how much I miss and desperately long for the little things that make a marriage/intimate relationship so fullfilling.

In my marriage, my husband was the strong one who carried the weight of the families safety and security (as I perceived it incorrectly during the marriage, in theory more than reality due to the physical and emotional harm he actually had caused) on his shoulders. He was a very loving and nurturing partner and father and always an outstanding provider.

Whenever he would get sick, like a minor cold, or stepped on a rock that bruised his heel, or witnessed someone that was sick and sure he was coming down with something fatal like dengue fever, malaria, or west nile virus, lol, I happily and lovingly tended to my sick and on the verge of death spouse’s every need. And I did so happily and lovingly as it was one of the very few times I could be his source of comfort and his strength and backbone. I loved to care for him when he was struck with a “killer cold”. It gave me the chance to be his everything.

The other situation that I always came through for him was our Snake/Spider agreement. I handled any encounter with snakes for him as he was deathly afraid of them and he in return handled any spider encounters for me due to my insane arachnophobia. Btw, I think I may have saved him from more snake encounters as in our line of work we seemed to come across a lot. It made me feel incredible useful.

Being single now for almost two years has brought to the surface some emotions about the little things that I loved about being married. I miss that kind of closeness and long to feel and be that role for someone once again.

The bottom line is, I miss being in love. I miss have a partner to walk through life with and yes, I miss making soup for my guy who has a cold and kissing his forehead. I miss picking out the very best kleenex for him so his nose doesn’t become as red as rudolphs. I miss being tender and affectionate and have tenderness, affection, and love showed to me.

I miss the little things that create a bond between two people and sharing my life with someone. I miss love.

A Couple’s Worst Nightmare: The Common Cold – DivineCaroline

http://www.divinecaroline.com/22077/124497-couple-s-worst-nightmare-common-cold

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Facebook Status Updates From the Past

Ok, every now and again I post a status update on facebook that im particularly proud of, lol. Yes, this is me tooting my own horn but I dont do it to often so its acceptable. I happen to love the: Dear Blank, Please Blank website and have authored some of my own. Here are some of my favs from the past that I thought were a bit clever. Note: all are pertaining to frustrations i’ve encountered with using my cell phone, lol. Anywho, enjoy.

Hello Moto,

I noticed you decided to go with the “Shorter Charging Cord”. Thas cool… But really, why must you keep me on such a short leash when you already know I’m your b**ch. God, what an EGOMANIAC your turning into.

Sincerely, ♪♪Don’t want no short cord phone♪♪

This one came about from my frustration with my android phones battery life, or lack there of and how often I find myself tethered to a wall so I could use my phone.

 

Dear Cell Phone,

Yes I kiss my mother with this mouth. Key word: Mouth…not beak. I MEANT TO TYPE THAT WORD SO STOP CORRECTING MY FOUL MOUTH YOU AVIARYAPHILE.

Sincerely, I like DUCKS but not as much as you think.

I obvious have a dirty mouth (who me, never, lol) and was frustrated with my cell phone always autocorrecting my bad words for…not so bad words, lol.

 

Dear Cell Phone,

I am not nearly as fond of MILK as you’d like me to be. Ps, need I remind you that you are indeed a black cell phone. So please stop auto correcting me.

Sincerely, Commitee for Context Based Auto Corrections.

This one was because I was trying to post about MLK or Martin Luther King and everytime I wrote MLK it autocorrected to MILK and I’d have to go back and change it. lol, #whitegirlproblems

 

 

The Reality: What was actually lost

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Image by Carolyn_Sewell via Flickr

So, it’s been 621 days, or, 1 year 8 months and 12 days since my children and my world came to a crashing halt.

I keep wondering why I havent healed yet. Why am I still so profoundly damaged and why can I not integrate back into the world with even a minute amount of success. What is wrong with me. I was diagnosed with PTSD  which made me ask myself, does this mean I will never heal. And if I can recover, WHEN?

After beating myself up for failing to get on with life, I figure it might be time to assess the gravity, the magnitude, the reality of what was actually lost.

Before I go on, Please understand, I would have it no other way. The relief I feel knowing that my daughter had the guts to stand up and protect herself by telling her secret is remarkable. I am grateful for her bravery. I’m also relieved that her suffering has come to an end. However, I’m writing this blog post to get a better understanding of why I am having such a hard time healing from what was lost.

During some of my darkest, most painful days I recall describing what I was experiencing like this…

My husband was murdered, my daughter was raped, my home was set on fire, my job was terminated, my bank account was robbed.

And all of this occurred in one day, in the blink of an eye. I went to bed one night and life was normal. I woke up to find everything I knew and loved had changed. Life from this moment forward would never be the same.

It’s funny because the above description is not exact, but for me, it’s the closest way I can describe how I feel and for the most part it’s the equivalent of the reality.

The Breakdown of what was lost

My husband was murdered

Everyone knows someone who has lost a spouse way to early. About ten years ago my husbands best friend died in a car accident.  Of course we were devastated. After all, our friends had recently married, which we celebrated as a new and exciting beginning of two friends sharing a wonderful life together. In his death, he was buried and honored with a funeral where all of his loved ones were able to pay their respects to the deceased. There was closure. Sure, it was painful to say goodbye to a friend. There was peace in knowing we could visit his grave, place flowers on such a good friends final resting space should we desire.

The bottom line is, I have spent every day since midsummer of the year 2000 with my husband. I truly loved this man with every part of me. I was still in love with him, which is quite remarkable. heck, I’ve been in relationships where the flame is snuffed out, and pretty quickly to. But this wasnt the case with us. I still looked at him with passion, still thought he was the most gorgeous man I’d ever laid eyes on.

No, in reality my husband was not actually murdered. trust me, there is a weird part of me (the part that has never actually experienced what that might be like) that feels like this would be a less painful scenario. Had he been murdered I would have been able to bury the man I loved so deeply. I could still look at him with love. Me and my children could visit his grave and place flowers. A gravestone for me has recently become something tangible that you can go to when the person you held so dear is no longer there. My husband, my children’s father is no longer there. There’s nothing. THERES NOTHING. Just an empty space in my home and in my heart. I feel his absence in the depth of my guts. There’s nothing left but the good memories that swirl around the new and bad memories. I still can’t think of him, talk about him, look at his things, go to sleep next to the spot he occupied, and yes, survive every holiday without feeling the tremendous sense of loss of this person in my life. I miss the man I thought he was. I miss my best friend. I feel like it was my husband who murdered the man I loved.

My daughter was raped

This is such a painful thought that I still have a hard time thinking about it, much less writing candidly about the feeling and emotions that are buried in my mind and heart. And for that reason I’ll simply say… this is self explanatory…and move on to the next item.

My home was set on fire

I see news stories all the time about families displaced by fire. Families that are homeless in the matter of moments. Nothing left of the comforts of home but a heap of smouldering ash. This is tragic and reported as such on the news, usually with a cry for help and where good citizens can send donations to help out the newly homeless.

For my family, our home is on fire, burning just under the surface. It feels like the Alzheimer’s disease for the exiled. without an income, saving my home, my children’s home is useless. we’re just watching it smoke, waiting for the day that it’s all gone. The saddest part is, there aren’t any nor will there ever be any distress calls from the local news media for my family. We will lose our home. My children will lose the last bit of normalcy they have left. Childhood friends, classmates, routines that provide comfort will all be gone. I cannot explain what its like to walk into your house and know that the very sights, smells, and personal space that brings peace and shelters you from the cold hard world, just outside your door will be gone. I don’t know the date but I know its coming.  My husband was ordered to pay the mortgage but he never has and my lawyer didnt push the issue. Because I was and still am absolutely broke, I’m unable to pay my lawyer. The last payment that was made on our family home was april 2010. I’m still in my home but its in foreclosure. I’m not sure how much longer before we are completely homeless.

My job was terminated

My husband and I started our own business in 2006. I took pride in working both with him outside of the home and as the accountant in the home. I wont lie, ive never loved doing receipts. I kinda despised getting all the paperwork prepared for taxes. But I did it, for years I did it. I did love the physical work though. It wasnt to difficult and I really loved going to work with my husband everyday. We were a team. We were business partners. We were best friends who got to hang out every day. I look back on these times fondly and unfortunately so. If I hated the daily grind than maybe that’d be one less good memory to grieve the loss of. Now my everyday is a struggle just to get to the end. Our business was and is a fairly profitable business. We did well for ourselves, making enough to live on and have a bit left over for the fun things in life. We enjoyed entertaining friends at our house, hosting the occasional get-together. He took the business. He was the only one we listed on the LLC. We never paid ourselves paychecks so I couldn’t file for unemployment. It’s as if I havent had a job since 2006. I miss enjoying my day-to-day life. I miss working and I miss the motivation I once enjoyed as a small business owner.

My bank account was robbed

Within the first week after the discovery and while I was still in shock at my mothers house, my husband cleared out our bank account. I had not a dollar to my name and three kids to support. This has not changed and I don’t expect that it will. He took every dime that we together made and saved and left me with nothing. I went to sleep one night with a certain degree of financial security and woke up to find I couldn’t even buy toilet paper. “I couldn’t even buy toilet paper” it’s what everyone who is running low on cash says…I had to steal toilet paper from a gas station bathroom. It’s not an exaggeration, it was our reality and it was humiliating. As something ive kept a secret from everyone I know including my children, its something I still cringe privately over.

So, what’s next

When I look at the list above it reads like the Holmes and Rahe stress scale, seriously. How much stress can one person suffer before they break? I’ll paste a link I found to a site where you can do a quick assessment. I don’t need to do the assessment to know that I’ve had a multitude of stressful life changing events happen in a short amount of time but after reading over it ive decided I need to get myself back into therapy. Heres the list:

Choose Life Events In the last 2 years, did any of the following happen in your life?

  • Minor violations of the law
  • Major holidays
  • Vacation
  • Major change in number of family get-togethers
  • Change in eating habits
  • Major change in sleeping habits (a lot more or a lot less than usual)
  • Taking on a loan (car,etc.,)
  • Major change in social activities (clubs,movies,visiting,etc.)
  • Major change in usual type and/or amount of recreation
  • Major change in church or temple activity (i.e.. a lot more or less than usual)
  • Major changes in working hours or conditions
  • Changes in residence
  • Changing to a new school
  • Trouble with boss
  • Revision of personal habits (dress manners, associations, quitting smoking)
  • Major change in living condition
  • Spouse beginning or ceasing work outside the home
  • Beginning or ceasing formal schooling
  • Outstanding personal achievement
  • Major change in responsibilities at work
  • Son or daughter leaving home
  • Trouble with in-laws
  • Foreclosure on a mortgage or loan
  • Taking on a mortgage (for home, business, etc.)
  • Change in number of arguments with spouse
  • Change to a different line of work
  • Death of close friend
  • Change in financial state
  • Sexual Difficulties
  • Gaining a new family member(ie.,birth,adoption)
  • Major business readjustment
  • Older adult moving in
  • Pregnancy
  • Change in the health/behavior of a family member
  • Marital reconciliation with mate
  • Retirement from work
  • Being fired at work
  • Marriage
  • Personal injury or illness
  • Detention in jail or other institution
  • Death of close family member
  • Marital Separation from mate
  • Divorce
  • Death of spouse

Read more: Life Stressors Chart http://www.medindia.net/patients/calculators/life_stressor.asp#ixzz1gZweOThD

I don’t know how long my pain will be so raw but I pray that it wont be forever.

Time lost…

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The image is of the exact amount of time my youngest daughter has suffered without seeing her daddy. She loves him very much. I can only pray he gets his issues worked out, for her sake.

Insurance Salesmen: Fear the Reaper

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“There are worse things in life than death. Have you ever spent an evening with an insurance salesman?”

~Woody Allen~

Btw, my husband was an insurance salesman when we first started dating. Lol, where was this ingenious quote then. I sure could have used a bit of Woody Allen wisdom as well as some relationship redirection.

This brings me back to a previous post http://wp.me/p1hqVQ-uZ

The story behind the image:

One crazy and emotion filled night me and my bff were  going through some boxes of my husbands old junk that he never unpacked when we moved into our house. The goal was to sort the junk, trash unecessary crap, condense the keepables and rebox it up labeled.

We get into a pile of some of the stuff he’d kept from his days as an insurance salesman. There where pages and pages and piles of leads (really, why would he keep that crap for 12 years) and pay check stubs.

Then we seen it. Laying there like a treasure of hilarity waiting patiently for the day it would be found and appreciated to the asurdity it was.

WHO THE HELL NEEDS A MINITURE BRIEFCASE!?!?

We laughed for hours, making up and acting out scenarios in which one would use such a small briefcase. Mocking and laughing at the complete rediculousness of our find.

We still laugh about it when we think about it.

http://www.quotationspage.com/quote/489.html

Woody Allen – http://tinyurl.com/2ef474m

TRASH NIGHT part 1

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THURSDAY=THRASH(ed) NIGHT

For twelve plus years, Thursdays in my home have been handled in a very specific way. Thursdays have been what our family called ” TRASH DAY for the family and/or TRASH NIGHT for the adults”. Not because the city collected the trash in my neighborhood on Thursdays, it didn’t, trash collection in my neighborhood has always occurred on Friday mornings…very, very, very early. So every week on Thursday night in my home the radio was on and turned up enough to dance if we wanted and sing if we dared while we collected all the trash from the bathroom and bedroom pails. This alone was no huge task, typically done to completion in a matter of minutes. The objective was to not only remove the trash from the bathroom and bedroom trash pails but more like miniature weekly sping cleanout sessions.

Trash night was a night that we cleaned the fridge of the leftovers no longer an edible option. Dumping expired milk, tossing eggs overdue, disposing any dish that had not been consumed in a timely fashion during the past week. And yes, any and all expired food that couldn’t be dumped down the drain or disposed by the sink disposal indeed remained safely in the fridge until trash night, so to not attract any bugs to an outside trash can. This would be like a neon light blinking a welcome message and smells of stale pizza and the like would be the latest greatest bug buffet in town.

Really, it was a solid and well thought out and multipurposed plan of pest control, odor obliterator, full property protection. God knows I can’t stand bugs and flies, wow, flies are a bothersome bug only trumped by the mosquitoe, spider and roach. (Yes, for me, in that exact order). These are in fact the most suicidal and ballsiest of all insects, who will take full advantage of a door left cracked open by kids who have no less than thirtyish trips in and out a front door on any given summer evening to make their rounds around the culdesac via bike or scooter, and preteen and teens who’s rounds where not on a bike but on a go-kart. should something slip through the cracks of trash night and make its way early to the can could be a pain in the ass. It means a fly, interestingly not weighed down by his brass balls, would be Mr Martyr. Always a dive bomber born to bother (Really, flies have some kinda nerve the way they make a point to fly directly at you, eye level, just to veer off before they hit you in the face).

More often than not the tv was turned off so it was also like a Sunday for spongebob who only got one night (Thursday) off a week, tirelessly working round the clock everyother night of the week for my children. Specifically my youngest who oddly had full control of the tv and the remote for several years, flying just below the radar of all the other family members. For a time, me and my husband would take time out to watch The Office on the bedroom tv while we folded laundry that was fresh out the dryer on our bed. The laundry during that time always seemed so warm and smelled so crisp and clean. Laundry hasn’t ever felt or smelled so wonderful as it did back then. Eventually we discovered this wonderous invention called DVR. (Side note: DVR is a whole story of happiness in and of itself. One to be shared on another day.)

To be cont…