Tag Archives: love

And so—-

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For the last 3 years I have enjoyed a wonderful man. We’ve laughed and cried, argued and loved, given and taken, gone through sickness and health. And then on May 10th, he informed me that I should move on, find someone who would marry me and be the man of my dreams because it wasn’t going to be him.

Needless to say, my heart is broken. I’m lost. I thought I had found “the One”….but I think back and realize there were so many signs. I remember sitting on the couch and telling him I knew I wasn’t his true love and never would be.
in my guest bedroom. We haven’t told anyone. We still do things together, like shopping and such. He is sudde
And so now I feel like the fool. I’m letting him continue to live here, nly doing things I asked him to do long ago.

And now I’m 52 and once again alone. Rebuilding. Trying to figure out who I am once again.

Or maybe I just need to be alone.

3 years….1 co-owned car since he rather destroyed mine. 5 bank accounts shared with him. Credit cards. All of these things need to be untangled. Settled. Divided.

I’m not happy…but of course he is. He has already moved on. And I’m sure he had started long before he told me. Was it really wrong of me to tell him he had 3 weeks (his 3 year anniversary of being here–with me) to decide marriage or leave?

As the song says—if you don’t know me by now, you will never ever know me…..

So now what? I have my master bedroom back. I have my dogs to keep me company—oh yes, and the one he adopted. Somehow that poor thing doesn’t get taken care of by him. But then again, I’m still taking him to work–mainly because I need him working to pay his share of the bills. And I wake him up. Maybe I’m just a mom type to him.

Oh well….that’s essentially the latest in my sorry life. I’m just better off alone I think. It was fun while it lasted.

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MOTHER’S DAY 2012

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ImageMoms….especially mine

Fifty years ago today, my mother celebrated her 1st Mother’s Day.

I was 8 months old and still needed to be carried and fed and changed.  I was a babbling baby

of needs and wants.  And she was pregnant with my sister.

By the next Mother’s Day, i was a walking, talking toddler with a baby sister who needed

all the attention of being carried and fed and changed.

Many Mother’s Days have come and gone since then.  In total my mother had 4 children,

of which, i am the oldest.

Mom saw us through childhood shots and diseases, broken bones, scrapes, bruises and boo-boos.

She saw us through kindergarten, grade schools, high schools, colleges, and/or tech schools.

She dressed us for church, for school, and for graduations.

She fed us, our friends, and planned parties for celebrations.

She baked for birthdays, Christmases and bake sales.

She taught us to cook, to clean, to think, and to imagine.

She became a Camp Fire Girl leader.

She sewed clothes and costumes, and made impromptu instruments.

She played piano for us to sing or dance to.

She taught us Catholic catechism.

She helped with homework.

She read us books.

She took us shopping.

She taught us how to love and how to forgive.

She taught us the values of family and friendship.

And in time, she saw us through boyfriends and dating.

And then, of course, weddings and pregnancies and miscarriages.

She was there for births, first baths and all the firsts for not only her daughter as mother,

but for her grandchildren’s firsts.

And in all these things, she talked with us.  She was part of our lives.

She instilled values and morals in us to guide us throughout our lives–

whether she was there or not.

As I have told many people throughout my adult life:

My mother raised 4 very independent strong women.

And she is grandmother to 27 men and women, boys and girls.

So today, on Mother’s Day 2012, as my mother celebrates her 50th Mother’s Day–

I want to say, thank you Mom.

For everything you have done,

and all you still do

for your girls,

for your family

Thank You!

and most importantly,

I love you!

God bless and keep you always!

Storage Rooms and Closets vs Vacation

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It’s that time of year when the boss flies off to go skiing amidst gaining CME’s for her license and we, the workers, get a week off over spring break.  And so great ideas abounded before and some actually happened.

Monday:  I opened the storage room door.  I closed it.  I just couldn’t…not now. Let’s do laundry and dishes.  Yes, that’s much easier.

Tuesday:  OK, can’t wait any longer, I opened the storage room door again.  Grabbed a couple boxes and started going through them.  I smiled. I laughed.  I shook my head.  And at times, held back a tear.  Those boxes held the memories of my life spanning a good 20 years. I started saving tidbits and things when I was about 14-15 and in high school, thinking that someday I would pass things on to my daughter or son.  But here I am at 50 with no children and no hopes of anyone to pass them on to.

There were letters and do-dads, and fun and sadness.  But most of all, I found bits and pieces of me from long ago.  I found ticket stubs from games gone by and ribbons from flowers and gifts long received.  I found my Sierra’s rabies dog tags from all of her life.  I found letters and cards from birthdays and holidays long ago sent by friends and family. I found letters from the many many prisoners I used to write and visit.  I found newspapers and clippings of stories and comics that were sent to me from places I used to live.  I found memories and thoughts of a me that has changed and moved on. I relocated key chains and baubles, wedding invitations and bubbles, funeral programs and prayer cards.

And a few hours later I had a handful of things to keep and full boxes of things that could be let go.  I realized that I had carried these memories in paper and glass and plastic and metal form for years.  I have moved many many times over the last 30 years and each time I carried some of these things with me.  Filing memories in a box that never got reopened unless it was in the hopes of finding a picture.  By storage room is a mess of things that I will never look at again and no longer need.

I tried to think of why I saved these things anyhow.  Was it to make me feel as though I mattered to someone at some point in my life?  Or perhaps that I just didn’t want to let go of the past?  Or could it be that right now, I am loved by a wonderful man and no longer need these things?  Or could it be something as mundane as I have no more room to put things and something must go?  Perhaps a bit of all of the above.

I am also in the process of creating my family tree.  And I see how important some pictures and papers and certificates can be.  So I did try to find as much as I could that could help in that…and then perhaps those will find their way to the garbage can as well (after being digitally preserved, of course).

It  was a tad hard to really give up all of the tangible evidence of my existence in those boxes, but in another way it was refreshing.  Like scabs being removed…it hurts, but then healing can begin.

So have you looked in your closets and storage areas lately?  What will you find?  A bit of yourself? Perhaps.  Or perhaps you’ll find a life well lived and well cherished.  You might even find old friends and long ago loves.  I did.