To my surprise, and relief, last night was a good night. Despite what some might say, I’m a firm believer in the notion that “absence does make the heart grow fonder.” Time apart had given both Ken and I some perspective.
The weekend gave Ken and I the time, and energy, to reconnect over an evening game of chess. Afterwards, we reminisced over old times --before we knew one another-- on subject of life in the military: Ken having served in the Army (to pay for his college) and me growing up in an Air Force military family, perpetually on the move. We shared how these experiences had shaped our lives for better and worse. I can’t honestly remember the last time that we had truly talked, about more than the upcoming college football season or what was going on with the kids, or at work. I can't remember the last time that we talked about us. It was good to laugh, to listen and to be heard. (Ken’s not much of talker, but I so need that – to converse with others -- to connect to something outside of me, something larger than me.)
Despite having to get up afterwards to do the dishes and chase the kids into bed, I felt refreshed. As I was washing the dishes, my middle daughter came to me with a complaint about how her wrist hurt when she bent it a funny way. I laughed, and with soapy hands I gave her a kiss upon the forehead. Then, I simply said – as all parents have at some point: “Well if it hurts, stop doing that?!” Reassured that she would, in fact, be alright, Bethany walked away with a silly smile. As I plunged my hands back into the dish water, I thought to myself: “Now, how would the advice that I just gave Bethany apply to my life, right here and now?”
I don’t know if you have noticed? But I haven’t been happy lately and “peace has eluded me”, as I said just yesterday. So for a brief moment, I thought: “I haven’t been happy lately, doing what I’ve been doing, so why shouldn’t I just stop doing it?!” It felt good to express that thought for a brief moment, but then I thought: “But, I’m not a child. I’m a grow woman, a grown-up, and sometimes in life, being a grown-up means making hard choices and working through some hard stuff"– really hard!
I’m living proof of the fact that that which does not kill you, does actually make you stronger – a little quirkier, perhaps, but stronger nonetheless. So I thought to myself: “If I just give up now, throw in the towel and walk away, how does that make me stronger, and more importantly: who else gets hurt in the process?” Now, if I had asked myself this same question yesterday, or even earlier in the day today, I would most certainly not have been as objective ( I had not slept well in over two nights and sadness was weighing me down). But a day of relative “peace and quiet”, at home with family, and reconnecting with Ken – on some level – had renewed me and improved my perspective.
From this new perspective, I concluded that -- allowing myself some slack to go ahead and not just cry, but to be angry or sad, without feeling guilty -- I could be bent a little and grow from this experience, but more importantly, I realized that I could do this because this is truly where my heart needs to be right now. That my life and my marriage were worth fighting for. A new friend said it well, “These days, I shy away from giving specific advice. I believe that 99% of the time, people know, deep down, what they really WANT to do.” I didn’t quite get the full meaning of his words, as I read them early this morning, but upon reflecting upon them now, in the still hours of the night, I see how his words ring true. (Thanks Paul!)
Ken fought for me in a way that no one else in my life ever has or probably ever will. It is because of him that I now have a life that has been filled with love and laughter, much of which to my surprise has been my own – which I never would have believed was possible in my twenties (see my July entry, titled ‘What’s the Hardest Thing in Life’). The idea of finding solace elsewhere, I will have to admit, did appeal to me for a brief time. The idea of something new and different, something simpler, always seems appealing in our time of pain and trial – that’s human nature, I suppose. But the novelty, once pursued, I’m confident would have quickly worn off.
So I have a plan now. I no longer feel as if I am floundering around anymore, like a wounded fish caught on a fisherman’s line, frantically trying any, and everything, to escape the pain. I’ve used my time of reflection somewhat purposefully. I’ve gotten some things off of my chest and set them free. Now, I think that I am, at last, ready to put my stake in the ground, with resolve. Knowing what I want to do is the important half of the battle. And I think that just knowing will, at long last, put me back on the path to peace once again.
And on that note, I’m off to try to get some much needed sleep. I haven’t felt much like being at church these past few weeks, but I have been having conversations with God. Perhaps tomorrow, I will feel like walking back into our church again.
Peace to you, who happen to wonder by this way.
God Bless!
M
Song: Far Away, By Nickelback
Song: If Everyone Cared, By Nickelback
"Sometimes we have to embrace the mundane in order to be present to bear witness to the magnificent; for one never knows when nor where the magnificent may strike." ~ me today, Aug. 2009
"I delight in my imperfection; For without it: there would be no point in making this journey." ~ me today, Aug. 2009
1 comment:
When I was first going through my divorce, a dear friend gave me some advice that was life changing. It caught me off guard, as it illuminated one of my tendencies that I had previously been ignorant of. He said, "Just feel, it, man. Just let yourself feel the pain. Don't do anything to run from it or avoid it. Just let it course it's way through you". I spent countless nights just staring at the wall in my office, crying, just allowing my whole being to hurt. I was saturated with pain. I don't claim to be the most well adjusted divorced person, but I do credit any mental health I do have to that time. There is something about giving yourself permission to let feelings run thier course that is healing. On the other hand, purposefully avoiding your feelings always leads to an exacerbation of the problem.
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