Change · grief · Happiness · Life · loss · love · Thoughts · Words

The Big House.

She lived in a big house with a small mind.

She created ugliness in beauty and chaos in peace.

She lived out her days longing for what used to be while completely ignoring what was right in front of her.

She filled herself up with regrets and stopped noticing all of her blessings.

The people in the big house tried to remind her but she had closed herself off to them.

Swept up in her own ideas about life and how little she mattered, she looked the other way when they tried to convnce her how much she was loved.

As life went on, that big house stayed the same but became less and less crowded, until one day it was just her.

All alone with her small mind, with her small life in a big house.

Alone, lost and sad.

All her life she looked backwards while all the while life was moving forward, to this exact time, this exact moment.

As she sat in a chair, in that big house, with her small mind, she all too sudden became aware of how small her life really was.

It was just her.

Everyone else had moved away, moved on or passed away.

While they had been here, she had avoided them because they had reminded her of everything she wasn’t.

They reminded her of the dreams she didn’t pursue, the future she’d never have, the goals she’d never accomplished.

While she had a family, she had pushed them away with her bitterness and hate for what she had become, somehow blaming them.

Now that they had gone, now that it was too late,

she realized that all along she had, had it all.

The marriage, the family, the big house, the dream.

She had been blind to all of it, wishing for everything else.

It had destroyed her, her marriage, her family.

The real regret was now, the end of this all, what she had become.

A lonely, widowed woman whose heart had closed off all love.

Whose small mind had created a small life.

In a big house that was now empty.

 

Change · Faith · grief · Happiness · Life · Self-love · Starting over · Thoughts · Words

Pause.

Don’t let this quiet world get you down.

There is so much hope that can be found in each sunrise,

promises held in each sunset.

Don’t stay behind windows, locked inside with panic and fear.

Open your door and step outside into the beauty of everything that still remains.

Watch the birds flying freely and let go, shake loose the restrictions you have placed on yourself.

Feel the wind on your face and let it remind you to breathe, deeply and with intention.

Look up to see the clouds floating passively in the sky and look inward to find grace.

In this time of uncertainity, look around at the things that haven’t changed to find some grounding within yourself.

Hold tight to all things good: love, patience, joy, kindness, hope.

Let go of those things that serve no real purpose: fear, anxiety, control, panic.

These long days of isolation will pass, like days always do.

Time will move forward and lives will go back to normal.

Let this time of pause be a time of self-care.

Let this time of pause remind us of what really matters.

Let this time of pause open our eyes to the things we’ve been holding onto that we now can let go of.

Pausing can be a good thing because it forces us to stop.

And when we stop we have the chance to see more clearly.

We have the chance to take chances we might never of taken before.

So step back from your windows and instead of waiting,

start living the life you really want to live when we press play again.

 

Faith · grief · Life · loss · love · Relationships · Starting over · Thoughts · Words

The Downpour

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Sitting in the downpour, it felt like the world was falling apart around me.

That wet wooden bench was my foundation but it felt like it might melt into the earth and take me along with it.

How did I even get to this moment?

Once upon a time, the sun was shining and my heart was full.

The clouds were bright and the sky was the color of the ocean.

Possibilities seemed endless and hope was abundant.

Like birds flying through the air, full of freedom and grace, was my life.

Most days I felt not like I was walking but that I was dancing, floating above the ground.

Now I sit in the rain, soaking wet and completely broken.

You took with you the sun.

I raise my face to the darkening heavens and a million little tears fall upon my already wet skin.

Let this rain cleanse me so that I can be made new.

Let it fill in the cracks so that I can feel whole again.

I am tired of feeling so heavyhearted.

I shiver a little as the air around me grows colder and I take a deep breath.

I feel the weight of myself collapse so that I am lying on this bench and I give up.

I give up you. I give up us. I give up the promises and hopes we once said we had.

I give them up to whoever will take them and I let myself drown in my misery.

Like a seed that has just been planted, this water will help me grow, from something so small and buried and unnoticed to something that rises above the surface for the entire world to behold.

From this ugliness will bloom beauty.

In time I can walk away from this soaking wet, wooden bench, and start down the path to a new way, a new life, a new me.

In time, this moment will be only a memory with less feeling attached to it.

But for now, I just need to be here, in the rain, letting go.

 

 

Change · Christmas · grief · Life · loss · Relationships · Thoughts · Words

A Not So Merry Christmas

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Sometimes holidays aren’t joyous. There is no anticipation of seeing parents, relatives, family. There’s no visiting people who love you and know you because they raised you. 

Sometimes holidays aren’t households full of families, long tables set for dinner where love is emulated over food and stacks of presents await opening under a lit tree. 

Sometimes holidays aren’t anything but empty days that remind you of all that you don’t have. As you look around you see and hear about other people’s plans and you feel like you have just experienced a great loss all over again. 

You envy the excitement, laughter, fullness of being loved by so many and you wonder what that would even feel like. To be surrounded so that you didn’t feel so lonely. To be noticed so that you didn’t feel so invisible. To be loved so that you didn’t feel so worthless. 

Every year, the holidays come and every year they take another piece of my heart. Especially when I see the sadness on my children’s faces as they too wonder why it is only us when others have so many.  I try to give them all of me but I know that it isn’t enough. They will grow up never knowing the love of an extended family. If I could give them one thing it would be that. 

Instead, we make do with our own little family. We put up the tree, decorate cookies, wrap presents and listen to Christmas songs. We do our best to make the best of what we do have, all the while knowing exactly what we’re missing.

Change · grief · Happiness · Life · loss · love · Poetry · Relationships · Starting over · Thoughts · Words

That Road Trip

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Our trip started off perfect.

We traveled across the world and experienced a sort of freedom I’d only dreamed about.

We stopped at state lines to pose for pictures and stayed in dingy motels to sleep away the nights.

We had our whole lives ahead of us.

We were young and had no idea what we wanted out of life.

We thought we knew but isn’t that how most young people feel?

I cared about you so much but as the miles passed, so, it seemed, did our future together.

Instead of music blaring from the radio, the sound of happiness, the car began to fill with the noise of us yelling at each other in angry, bitter tones.

I suddenly felt trapped, like I’d rather be anywhere than here, next to you, on these strange roads, in this car.

Maybe if we would’ve just stayed friends… but I guess we thought that we could have more.

We used to have so much fun together, laughing ourselves into tears.

Staying out late, not in any hurry to get home.

Our friendship suddenly caught fire.

Those times, those memories, are faraway.

They seem like a lifetime ago.

By the time we reached our final destination, we tried to smooth things over but some things can’t be ironed out.

I ended up leaving you in the cold, as the snow fell.

Taking a flight back home.

We never really spoke again, although I’ve seen through social media that you are doing well, still living in the place where we last saw each other.

You were once a giant part of my days and now I hardly know you.

It’s strange how life ends up,

Someone you knew so intimately now a total stranger.

That road trip took us downturns we never saw coming and left us at a dead-end,

but I guess that was the plan all along,

or else I wouldn’t have met him, my now-husband.

You were just a part of my life where he is now my whole life.

You were just passing through, where he will stay a lifetime.

I sometimes think about you and the good times we had.

I hope you are out there, still doing great.

And in case you didn’t know I really once, cared a lot about you.

What we had…it was once something real to me.

 

 

grief · Life · loss · love · Poetry · Self-love · Starting over · Thoughts · Words

Too Little. Too Late.

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Seeing you, so happy and free, it sets a smile on my face but in my heart, I feel a deep sorrow. We were once in pictures together, and I used to kiss those smiling lips often. Every day with you was never too much. I honestly would never have grown tired of you by my side. You filled a void in me. You shined a light into my dark places and made me glow. I honestly believed it would never end. How foolish.

All things in life have an ending – A starting point and a finish line. Why did I think we would be any different? Perhaps it’s because you forced me to believe in something I never believed in before – Love, forever, family, a future. You shaped me into someone better. Before you I was blind and with you I could see. Like a blanket perfectly stretched across soft grass, no parts unseen, my future was also perfectly laid out. For once I could imagine everlasting joy.

It’s been years now and maybe you don’t even remember me. Maybe you can hardly recall my face or what my voice sounded like, but I could never forget you. Even if I didn’t have pictures to remind me, I would still be able to picture your face, all of your soft features, and hear you’re laugh. I still do.

Do you remember what we once were, what we once shared? Was it as real to you as it was to me? It may have been only a moment in your life but it was so much longer, so much more for me. Oh’ how I loved you.

I tell myself I need to stop looking for you and searching you online to view your present life, because every time I do I’m reminded of how much I lost and it’s like saying goodbye to you over and over again. You are not mine any longer. I need this pain, that still has a rawness, to go away so that I can begin anew.

You don’t live in the past as I do because you have created a new life for yourself. One filled with all of the things I once dreamed we would have together.

You were the love of my life and you maybe didn’t even know it. I was naive enough to think I had enough time to tell you everything you meant to me. They say that ‘what’s meant to be will always find a way’ but I disagree. I sense, deep in my soul, it was supposed to turn out to be you and I. I reckon it was all the little things I didn’t do that added up to be the big things that you needed. I was young and clueless and didn’t even know what I had. I didn’t even know what regret felt like yet.

I would give anything to be able to go back and do it all again but life just doesn’t work that way. You can’t rewind time and get years back. I have no choice but to go forward. To finally get over you, us.

I will forever remember my time with you and I will forever grieve not trying harder to keep you and my heart will always be a little bit broken. For, once someone steals a piece of it, you never truly get it back, it can’t ever be whole again. But it can be healed.

Goodbye.

 

Change · Children · grief · Happiness · Life · love · Parenting · Relationships · Thoughts · Words

I am Finally Home

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I grew up in a house, not a home.

Fighting was as normal as breathing.

Chaos ensued almost every day between my parents.

I had a father, not a dad. A woman who gave birth to me, not a mother.

I had two brothers but really I was an only child.

My childhood was not terrible but it was not wonderful.

It was marked by alcoholism, divorce, almost stepdads and lots of tears.

My mother didn’t give her love away unconditionally and my father didn’t know how to give away love unless it was attached to a dollar sign.

In fact, money was what my parents lived for. My father worked endless hours to provide a life that my mother pretty much demanded…diamonds, fur coats, nice cars, a nice house, clothes, maids, lots of “stuff”. My mother’s happiness was always tied up to things. Money was the root of everything in our home and my mother spent more than was coming in. Hence, all the fighting going on between her and my father.

It’s no wonder that growing up, I began to lack some of the tools I’d need to get through life. Life lessons were screwed up and my understanding of what love meant was blurry and confusing. I began to wonder if I was even worthy of any kind of love so I began to date the “bad boys”. I had relationships that mimicked my parents…..lots of fighting, no respect and anger. It was I who was causing all of this turmoil. I was picking fights, pointing out faults. I was saying mean things because it was what I thought this whole relationship thing was about. It was what I had seen first hand in my parent’s marriage.

It wasn’t until I met a boy that wouldn’t put up with my insanity, that I began to change. This person called me out on my crap. Left me (literally) to see if I could get it together and then came back and taught me what real love truly is and what it’s not. This man, who is now my husband, is my lifesaver. The someone who struggled with me but stood by me and has always been my rock. He came into my life at the perfect time and with him, I have become who I needed to be. Our relationship started out thorny but has blossomed over the years into something beautiful. Even though we are polar opposites we are perfect together. We are best friends. We finish each other’s sentences. Over the years we have built a home. This home is full of love, understanding, faith, and all things that a family should be. My husband gave me a gift for which I could never repay.  He saved me from all the wrong roads I most likely would’ve gone down. He saved me from repeating the pattern.

I will always have tangled, messy memories of my broken childhood, but with my husband, building a family with him, the love he gives me so freely, I have finally found my home.

 

 

 

 

 

Change · Faith · grief · Happiness · Life · loss · love · Marriage · Poetry · Relationships · Starting over · Thoughts · Words

To the man I used to know

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We were strangers.

And in all of the places we could be that night and of all of the times,

what were the odds that we should be in the exact place at the exact time?

Our eyes meeting, our hearts pounding, something inside of us stirring.

You smiled and I melted.

I didn’t know it at the time but my life would never be the same.

A handsome stranger would become the best part of my life.

You were strong and kind, mature beyond your years.

You were brave and fearless and I remember, when getting to know you, how much I envied the way you had lived your life.

Sixteen years later, I can still recall everything about that night, like it was yesterday.

Watching a boy, in a black leather jacket, steal my heart away with his infectious joy.

Looking at you now I see a man, your hair fallen away and parts turned silver.

I love you so much but we have grown so far apart.

The years have seen us through many ups and downs,

some crazy adventures and a lot of mistakes, but we are still here,

getting through this life as best we can.

As individuals and as a couple.

You are tired.

You have a sadness about you.

Your heart is like an anchor in your chest, a heaviness weighing you down.

Filled to overflowing with burdens and responsibilities.

The years have crept up on us, time has a way of doing that, doesn’t it?

One minute you are young, with the best days ahead of you and,

the next you are grown up with this full life, that sometimes just seems like a long list of to-do’s.

Loves grows from something wild and passionate to something steady and reasonable.

You pass each other in the hallway, never really seeing one another.

And as time goes by you once more return to being strangers.

The way things used to be, long forgotten.

God, I don’t want to be that far away from you.

Take my hand and let me help you remember who you used to be,

Who we used to be.

 

 

Image Credits
Creator:Pavel Talashov
Credit:Talashow – Fotolia
Copyright:Pavel Talashov

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Change · grief · Life · loss · Parenting · Relationships · Self confidence · Self-love · Thoughts · Toxic Parenting · Words

It’s Time…

I wake to the sound of music blaring. My alarm clock telling me the day has started. I steal a quick glance at the red blare that is the time and hit the snooze button. I lie back down, my head sinking once again in the soft, grey pillow. It’s still dark outside and I want to go back to sleep more than anything, but I have things to do. I have no other option but to wake up. My eyes feel groggy and my mind feels heavy. I didn’t sleep well last night. My mind kept racing over events of the day and it kept me from finding any peace in the quietness of the night. Now I am at once, thinking over things again, not even 2 minutes after I awake.

Life sometimes feels so heavy and burdensome. I feel like I’m given way more than I can handle and not the proper tools to handle them with. There is this life I want, the one I am trying to build and then there is the life I have, my past, that I can’t seem to shake. I think maybe because I keep revisiting what already happened and I keep trying to fix it, make it different now, in the future. Why can’t I realize that I can’t change things, it’s not within my power. I’m tired of feeling a lack of worth. I’m tired of having this hole inside of me that I keep trying to fill. I’m tired of punishing myself with what I did, what I should’ve done and a thousand regrets.

Often I look at my age and wonder how I got to be this old already and things are still going on like this. I want to make you love me like I needed all these years. I want to help you see how you wronged me and I want you to apologize. I want to be able to have a relationship with you that is healthy and good. I reach out to you, I try to talk to you, I let you back in again and again and again but still you are unchanged. I love you because you raised me and there are some good parts of you I remember but I can’t keep subjecting myself to you. Every time we try, the pieces of me I have built, all the hard work I have done, start crumbling down. These years we have been apart I have become someone else, a person that is stronger, more confident, less angry. I have discovered things about myself I never knew before. I have bloomed and grown into a life I love. I have no room for toxic people, negativity, manipulation, guilt, and lies. You can choose to not see the truth and create your own reality but I want no part of it. I know what happened, I know the truth. For most of my life, I have been dragging you along, hoping to change you, now I see how much of a burden that has been and how impossible a feat. I am tired and my life is not being lived the way it should. You are older. You may not have a lot of years left on this earth and I hate to think of years going by, with us not speaking, and one day getting the call that you have passed. I wish more than anything, we could have a relationship. I will miss you like I have been. I will grieve for the mother I never had but always wanted. This is the last time I will try. This is the last time I will say goodbye. I will always love you but, from afar and quietly.

Blaring music once again fills the room and I quickly shut it off. I can do this. I need to do this. It is time once again to let you go. This time for good. So I rise up, out of bed, and begin to take back my life. Little by little. Piece by piece. 

Faith · grief · Life · loss · love · Relationships · Starting over · Words

What Remains

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I wake to the sound of birds chirping, the suns light washing over everything. The first thing I see when I roll over is the framed picture of us.

A small oak frame that holds the memory of a moment once alive but now only a snapshot.

The way you are looking at me, your smile as wide as it ever was, reaching ear to ear. The look of love so evident.

We had the kind of love that some people never even know exists. I didn’t even know it existed until I met you. Oh it was magical.

Staring at that picture, I have proof that it existed. You were once real. You were once here, a living, breathing man that stole my heart on a cold November day.

I sit all the way up and plant my feet on the floor, taking hold of the frame as I do every morning.

I feel the wood, the softness of it between my fingers. I stare at who I used to be. I hardly recognize that woman anymore.

When you left, you took most of me too. You were my heart, my soul, my other half. It felt like, at times, you were even the air I breathed.

I try to hold back my saddness but a single tear flows down my cheek and I can’t help but feel my heart breaking all over again. I still need you. I don’t think I can do this without you.

I take a few minutes to compose myself and rise, setting the frame back in it’s resting place.

A new day is here, I cannot force the night to stay no matter how much I beg. The sun always rises and forces me to wake.

Like yesterday, and the day before that, I will try to get through these hours of daylight. I have to live, for you, for me, for us. I know that is what you would want because while you were here, you lived life to the fullest and thought of each new day as an adventure.

You taught me how to stop being only alive. You showed me how to open each new day as a gift. You did not waste a single second of an hour. Maybe somehow you knew that you had a short life, or maybe you just knew how precious life was.

You were truly magic and you made life magical.

I am not sure I can do this today, lie you to rest and say goodbye. I always hated goodbyes but knowing this one is so permenant, that I will never see that smile again or hear your voice…how can I ever say goodbye?

In a few hours I will be glancing at your face, touching you for the last time. You will become a memory of what once was. A man that once existed and was the love of my life.

I will wear black and I will mourn you but I won’t let go. Not yet, maybe not ever.

Then I will return to a life without you and learn all over again how to be alone. Knowing that without you, my life, forever changed, can never be whole again.

You are irreplaceable. 

Even though you are gone, our love will remain through me, and this child that grows inside me. A part of you that will live on, a part of us that will forever be ours.

Living, breathing proof of our love and what we created.