I Don't want a Strap-on

There's another thing that happens when I am having a bad day. (such as today) I start missing my husband with a terrible ache. I imagine a patient who has lost a limb in some terrible trauma waking from a coma to find that their life, their very selves are irrevocably changed. The arm is gone, they scream, they cry, they get angry, they grieve. After a while they accept, a prosthesis is created, a strap on, semblance of what used to be. Skills are re-learned and eventually life goes on. They learn to live this new one armed existence, but, each morning when they first awaken- reality stings. They expect their arm to be there, reaching to shut the blaring alarm, but nothing it seems is where it is supposed to be.

I want to call my husband, text him, e-mail him. I want to say:

I love you.

I am sorry.

So sorry.

Please come home. Please let's fix this.

Please, I love you.

I want to wrap my arms around him, I want to burrow my head in his chest. I want to feel his lips on mine. I want to wake up with two arms, damn it!

Today is a cold rainy day. It reminds me of a day we shared thirteen years ago when we were young, in love and relatively unencumbered by responsibility. We were in college. Separate colleges, but mine was on the way to his and so he would drive me. On this particular morning we got ready for school and climbed into his cold ugly gold mazda pick-up truck and headed on our way. Well, we only got to the first exit on the parkway before we decided that it would be a much better idea to turn around and go back home to cuddle under the covers - just skip school altogether and spend the day instead wrapped in the warmth of each other's arms. That was the day that a family tradition was born..the "shnuggle". An early morning, still under the covers, warm and cuddly hug that lasts half a day or more. Our children love to shnuggle.

Today is a day like that. Only, I have woken up once again to find that my arm is missing. I must start the process all over.

I have said it all. I have begged. I have pleaded, I have bargained. I have said I love you through tears, and with calm, steely resolve. I am gifted with words, and I have used them. Every combination I can think of. I keep thinking that there must be some way to get through to him. If I could just figure out the riddle, unlock the code. Sometimes I get discouraged. I feel like I have tried everything, and I am exhausted. Emotionally exhausted. Physically exhausted. Bent. Broken.

It is frustrating, but the truth is that there is nothing I can say. He has to want to be here, and right now he doesn't.

I love you. I miss you. I want to make things right. I want to fix our family. Please. Come home. It is a cold, rainy day. Let's go back to bed

Breathless

You are right. I must start writing again.

I feel like I have started writing this post a hundred times in my head. I just can't settle on an angle. It is so heavy, so laden with gut wrenching emotion, and I fear whether or not I will even be able to finish typing the words without short circuiting my laptop with torrential tears. There is so much going on, and I really should be writing about it, if only for therapy (though I kind of loathe the self-therapizing blogs that are out there and shudder to think that mine may become one. And, yes, I do realize that "therapy" is not a verb, thank you very much.) On the other hand I know there are many of you who are thinking about me, worrying about me and let's face it, miss reading my blog. So here I am. I am back. I must warn you though, it may not be pretty.

I do not know where to begin. I don't know how to sugar coat it, or make it humorous (though I am sure on the latter, I will find a way). My life has fallen apart. I feel like I am living a nightmare. I have never cried so much or prayed so hard - and believe me, I have cried and I have prayed before. My heart is broken. Shattered. I am changed forever.

A little over ten years ago, actually ten years and two weeks ago to be exact, I put on an exquisite white gown, elbow length gloves and a glittery tiara. My father walked me down the aisle in the most beautiful church named after our Blessed Mother, and gave me away to be married to my best friend. My husband and I took vows. We promised to be true to each other no matter what. In good times and bad. We walked out of that church hand in hand to start a new life together. I thanked my Lord God for sending this wonderful man to me, for I truly believed that he was the answer to a prayer. A gift from God, my husband.

Twenty days ago my husband left.

My husband packed a suitcase and went to go live in his mother's basement. We have four children. Four. Small. Children. He broke my heart, he broke their hearts. He broke his mother's heart and his father's heart. My sisters cry with me. My neighbors cry with me. Moms in the carpool lane and at the PTA meetings, they cry with me. My friends call me and text me and come over and sweep my kitchen floor for me. My niece has been here almost everyday it seems. There are angels watching over me, crying with me.

It is like someone died, only he didn't. He walked away. (WTF?)

I... can... not... breathe.



Here's the thing. I don't have that option. I can't crawl under the covers and pretend it is not happening. I can't decide that this life of mine just isn't what I thought I had signed up for and go run off and start over. I am not a coward. I am strong and I am courageous. I am a woman and, I am a MOTHER.

The English language is so inadequate. There are no words that can fully convey what I am or how I feel (I can think of a few that describe him though - see? it's coming back). I am angry. SO ANGRY. I am sad. Lonely. Frustrated. Resentful. Fragile. I feel helpless. I feel like a failure. I feel like an idiot. I feel like I am being called on to be super-human right now. Sometimes it is all just too much. I also feel grateful. I feel loved. I have so many friends and my great big family. I have my Lord and Savior, without whom I literally would not be able to pull myself out of bed in the morning.

I am bewildered. Devastated. I just do not understand. I can't grasp what is happening to me, to my family. We had a life. A family. I do not understand how you decide to throw that away. Our marriage was never perfect.(what is perfect?) It was also never hopeless. I can not "respect your decision" - because it is not respectable. I have values, we had values - and this goes against all of them.

I am not hopeless, that is, I have hope. I have faith. Thank God Almighty, I have help. There are tremendous betrayals that have been perpetrated, and yet I have hope and faith that trust can one day be restored. I do not believe in divorce. I will sign nothing. Ten years and two weeks ago I took vows, and I took them seriously. I am not giving up. Let me put that out there for all the world to hear and see: I AM NOT GIVING UP.

So, anyway, here I am. I am back in the "blogosphere". I am battered and I am bruised. You told me to write, if you think you can handle it, I'd love to have you read it. and, please, leave a comment. Thanks.

Perchance to dream...

Lately I am just so darned tired. It is sometimes hard for me to fall asleep at night because my joints hurt, and I have to wake up early each day to get First Son off to school and tend to Paddy boy (Curly would sleep till noon most days if I let her, and even if she does wake up she's a pro with the remote control!). So, I look forward to Saturday morning as if it were a giant ribbon wrapped box under the Christmas tree. Hubby is home, and I don't have to wake up!! I am entirely too optimistic about this premise though, because both my dear Hubby and my dear First Son were born without the ability to be quiet unless they are themselves asleep, and lately sleeping late for either of them means 6:30AM.

This past Saturday I was so frustrated with the level of noise that I actually rose out of bed at approx. 7:45 to tell the entire brood how ridiculously rude and unfair they were all being. It was not pretty. Hubby tried in vain to defend himself with some lame excuse that went "I keep telling them...." but, I shot him a look of death and then wondered aloud about exactly who thought it was a good idea to turn the washing machine on at 6AM, and then run it unbalanced so that it sounds as if a Mack Truck is barrelling through the house? Hmmmm?

I went back to bed and thought with pleasure about the days coming soon when I will be sedated in a hospital bed, having just undergone major surgery, when I will actually get a chance to sleep! I mean, is that sick or what? I am looking forward to the hospital as a place of peace and quiet?? Does anyone else think something is wrong with that idea?

Well, today came a state of bliss that I thought I would never see. Since I spent 14 hours away from home yesterday travelling to and from the Papal mass at Yankee Stadium, my dear Hubby and MIL worked it out for me to be able to sleep as long as I needed in total peace and quiet! I LOVE THEM! Hubby went into work a little bit late today, and brought the cherubs to MIL at about 7:30 this morning! Except for a random door bell ring at about 7:45 (someone looking for my tenant), which wasn't even that bad as I needed to get up to use the facilities and have a drink of water anyway, I slept uninterrupted until...11AM! Wow. It felt so good. I then brewed myself a nice cup of tea and baked up some fresh cinnamon rolls while watching The View! I can't remember the last time I have been so indulgent! (for that matter, I can't imagine the next time it might even be a possibility to be so indulgent) It really made such a huge difference in my life. Just to be able to rest my tired bones and body was so refreshing to my soul!

Saturday morning I woke up snarling and snorting, Sunday I spent a day with the Pope, and next thing you know today I am sleeping like a...really tired, 9 months pregnant mother of three ( ...well, we know how babies sleep, and I certainly slept better than that!). My 14 hour pilgrimage to the Bronx yields miracles in under 24 hours! Amazing.

Seriously, thank you SO MUCH to MIL - you were a Godsend today, and everyday!

Reflections on 8 years

Tuesday was our wedding anniversary. It's hard to believe, but it has been 8 years since I made the long walk down the aisle with Hubby. Sometimes it feels like yesterday. We celebrated the day quietly, but perfectly. First, Hubby took the day off of work which was great. We got First son off on the school bus and then dropped the remaining cherubs at their grandparents house. We went to breakfast and then headed down to the beach. It was a beautiful day, and it was such a luxury to be able to go to the beach and not have to lug a million things. All we brought was a blanket and some sweatshirts. We lazed on the beach for a while, listening to the waves crash and actually having a conversation! It was pure indulgence. We took a long walk along the shore, till just before the nude beach (yuck). Then we went shopping for ingredients to make a nice dinner. We bought the kids TV dinners - a treat, since they've never had them ever before, and hubby even let them have ice cream for dessert! Then he tucked them away in bed while I set to creating a masterpiece menu. We had arugula with herbed goat cheese for a first course, then chicken saltimbocca and asparagus risotto for dinner. For dessert, a lovely peanut butter and chocolate tart that we picked up at the local bakery. All in all it was a heavenly day.

Reflecting on the past eight years, I realize that I am one lucky girl. I am still very much in love, with my very best friend. Hubby and I have been through a lot, much of it good, but some of it very bad. The thing is that we made it through together. We can take on anything at this point. My Hubby is funny (he especially thinks so); and he's smart; he's an incredible Dad (no, really - he has been known to take all three cherubs to the beach - by himself!); he is always there for me, whether I need a weather report, a bug extermination, or a recipe conversion; he is strong for me when I can't be for myself, and he always offers up some perspective when I think I've gotten myself into a corner. We share the same dreams (some people think we're building a soccer team, actually, it's a restaurant staff!). I don't know where I'd be without him. (Hollywood?, Broadway?) I look forward to the next eight years. I love you Hubby!