My first blog post (Four Score and Seven Gallons of Ice Cream Ago) describes the start of tumbling head over heals into the trauma of my husband's infidelity. Life is getting better.
I'm still sad. This sadness is unlike any other sadness I've experienced in my life, and I hate it. It feels like grief but we're all still alive. It feels like exhaustion, but I'm getting plenty of sleep now.
Pills. Gunshot. Hanging. In that order. One by one these three men left us to wonder and grieve. The horror is too deep and dark and bottomless to describe. Grasp frantically, with desperation into the dark, with moon-blind eyes wide open, but the space between us is cold and empty. The curtain has been drawn.... Continue Reading →
The gray clouds roll in from the distance, like a storm I can see is coming.My mind's eye watches closely, as the sun fades away to nothing.I can't outrun it. I feel guilty for not trying.I try so true to smile, while my foggy brain is lying.If you see me, please don't try to help... Continue Reading →
Sunday morning came after a fitful night of sleep. Discovering my husband's secret was beyond rationalizing or applying logic to find my way forward. Little did I know, this cold Sunday in February, would be the last day for quite some time that I'd have my poop in a group. (That's our family's way of... Continue Reading →
Four score and seven gallons of ice cream ago, it was Saturday, February 10, 2018. I didn't know when I woke up this would be a pretty big deal of a day. It was a whopper of a big deal day. This particular Saturday followed a Friday. And Friday was the day I took a... Continue Reading →