Prayer/Positive thoughts anyone?.............................
With the 26 (.2) mile race fast approaching I thought I would find out if anyone would like me to run a mile for them?
Just let me know if you have a prayer request, as specific or vague as you like, or if you just want me to send you love and positive vibes for one of my miles.
The race is March 1, 2009, so let me know before then.
Monday, February 16, 2009
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
I am blessed..................................
It is always good to follow a complaining post with a gratitude post, and the last week I am encountered things that make me extremely grateful for my health. I am having an impossible time putting myself in the shoes of the people I am about to share about...
Nancy is a blogger friend that discovered a love of running in spite of it being painful for her almost from the beginning. She recently found out that her body has betrayed her with some funky OVER flexibility thing. In her own words:
I am so damn freakishly flexible that my bones rattle around in the joints and just bang the $hit out of each other. To the point of injury. This injury is usually caused by tackling or falling down, but some people that are really flexible can get it from repetitive motion.
The reality is I really am a Nonrunner. My body was never made for running. I have too much flexibility, not enough control and my bones are beating up on each other simply from running.
I can remember the freak-out I had at the thought of missing one race when I fractured my wrist. I can't imagine how I would feel being told I had to hang up my running shoes in order to save my bones.
Last night I was with a woman who has ALS. While I was visiting she received a return phone call about getting a machine that would talk for her once the time comes that her muscles deteriorate to the point that she is no longer able speak on her own. Imagine dealing with that notion. How does one even begin to get their mind around the fact that your muscles will slowly deteriorate until you are paralyzed, one body part at a time? And, as of yet their is no cure, nothing one can do to prevent it from happening.
My last example is about a woman who was diagnosed with breast cancer just before Christmas. She has already had surgery to remove the mass and is in the middle of chemo treatments. Yesterday she went to the area cancer center for a "make over." She was expecting a talk about makeup and being pampered with someone doing her makeup for her. What happen was she got (a very beneficial) talk about how to prevent infection when applying makeup because once on Chemo one has no ability what so ever to fight infections of any kind. In addition to the lecture she got the (dis) pleasure of sitting by two very scared, very angry women. One of them was there for her second go round with cancer and felt the need to tell everyone around her that "just when you think you are cured it comes back."
So here is this woman, full of hope and feeling in control of her personal situation, thinking that she is going in to be pampered and get her mind off her disease for a while, to instead have the full reality of it smashed in her face. What would you do? I imagine the least I would do is to tell the woman to shut the ___ up. This woman said she wanted to tell those woman that dealing with cancer was not the worst thing in the world. How did she know that? Because several years ago she lost a child and losing a child is far worse than losing a breast, and/or fighting for your own life. She went on to say that she chose to be quiet out of respect for their feelings. That folks is a fine example of grace!
So what do I do? I run. I run to help myself buy into the idea that I can outrun my family history of cancer, stroke, and heart attack. I run to convince myself that it is possible to live life as a healthy old person instead of a frail old person. I run because it relieves my stress and they say that stress is the number one cause of disease.
I run.
Because I can.
It is always good to follow a complaining post with a gratitude post, and the last week I am encountered things that make me extremely grateful for my health. I am having an impossible time putting myself in the shoes of the people I am about to share about...
Nancy is a blogger friend that discovered a love of running in spite of it being painful for her almost from the beginning. She recently found out that her body has betrayed her with some funky OVER flexibility thing. In her own words:
I am so damn freakishly flexible that my bones rattle around in the joints and just bang the $hit out of each other. To the point of injury. This injury is usually caused by tackling or falling down, but some people that are really flexible can get it from repetitive motion.
The reality is I really am a Nonrunner. My body was never made for running. I have too much flexibility, not enough control and my bones are beating up on each other simply from running.
I can remember the freak-out I had at the thought of missing one race when I fractured my wrist. I can't imagine how I would feel being told I had to hang up my running shoes in order to save my bones.
Last night I was with a woman who has ALS. While I was visiting she received a return phone call about getting a machine that would talk for her once the time comes that her muscles deteriorate to the point that she is no longer able speak on her own. Imagine dealing with that notion. How does one even begin to get their mind around the fact that your muscles will slowly deteriorate until you are paralyzed, one body part at a time? And, as of yet their is no cure, nothing one can do to prevent it from happening.
My last example is about a woman who was diagnosed with breast cancer just before Christmas. She has already had surgery to remove the mass and is in the middle of chemo treatments. Yesterday she went to the area cancer center for a "make over." She was expecting a talk about makeup and being pampered with someone doing her makeup for her. What happen was she got (a very beneficial) talk about how to prevent infection when applying makeup because once on Chemo one has no ability what so ever to fight infections of any kind. In addition to the lecture she got the (dis) pleasure of sitting by two very scared, very angry women. One of them was there for her second go round with cancer and felt the need to tell everyone around her that "just when you think you are cured it comes back."
So here is this woman, full of hope and feeling in control of her personal situation, thinking that she is going in to be pampered and get her mind off her disease for a while, to instead have the full reality of it smashed in her face. What would you do? I imagine the least I would do is to tell the woman to shut the ___ up. This woman said she wanted to tell those woman that dealing with cancer was not the worst thing in the world. How did she know that? Because several years ago she lost a child and losing a child is far worse than losing a breast, and/or fighting for your own life. She went on to say that she chose to be quiet out of respect for their feelings. That folks is a fine example of grace!
So what do I do? I run. I run to help myself buy into the idea that I can outrun my family history of cancer, stroke, and heart attack. I run to convince myself that it is possible to live life as a healthy old person instead of a frail old person. I run because it relieves my stress and they say that stress is the number one cause of disease.
I run.
Because I can.
Friday, February 06, 2009
Confessions of a rotten wife......................................
Most people send out Christmas cards and often an update of what is happening in their family. Years ago I started sending a Valentines letter instead as it is my favorite holiday and I figured all my friends/family could use a little mid-winter cheer.
Several days back I set down and wrote my portion of our family letter. As my children have grown they have taken over writing their own updates.
In my letter I talked about my business changes, my running, and the changes in our pet population. It was at the point that I was re-reading for errors that I realized I had no mention of (my) Mister in the letter. OMG! Do I really like my cat Fred better than I like my husband? Wasn't I just kidding the time or two that I mentioned this notion?
That is the good thing about letter writing on a computer. It is really easy to insert and/or change paragraphs. What would the world think of me for putting my cat before my husband? Can't have that now can we? So, after backing up a couple of paragraphs, this is what I came up with for (my) Mister's recap:
_______ has had a fairly boring year, no big trips to build boats or fabulous camping trips. He goes to work and comes home to hang out with us. I am hopeful that he is able to cultivate some interest and activities this coming year that will lend some excitement to next years letter.
No wait a minute. He did have to have a hernia repair, that was scheduled two weeks before Christmas. We finally got ceiling lights in our living room (after twenty years of sitting in semi-darkness) and decided to paint the living room the weekend before surgery. Then six out of seven of us got the flu beginning that Friday. And we had a resident Christmas party the weekend after surgery. I think it was a full two weeks after we started painting before we finally finished the project. But it turned out nice and _____ managed to heal in spite of his rigorous schedule.
Next week we will celebrate nine years of marriage and this is the best I can do? What's worse, is that this is the best I think he could do if I ask him to write his own recap.
What I have concluded from this is that I am mad at him, and it is all ego. I am mad at him because I perceive that he has not grown in the time we have been together. He is stable as a rock, as consistent in his behaviors as the sun coming up in the morning. Who could want more than that?
The thing is I don't want these things for myself, but for him. Who am I to insist that someone else do something? Over the years, when I have made plans for him to go and or do something he has joyfully done so and reported having a good time yet if I don't make plans he does nothing. When I met him it was in a class that he was taking for fun and enjoyment. He bowled on a bowling league and rode his bike at least five days a week. He went to dinner with friends and read books. Why should it matter to me that now all he does is go to work and help with the business? Maybe that is truly has what he wants out of life and because that would never be enough for me I somehow think that he needs to want more as well.
Being totally honest (from my perspective) I think the real issue here is we are in a power struggle. He is W-A-Y over the business in his home and I continue to insist that it is a good thing not only because of the income, but because of the opportunity it allows us to help others. (my) Mister has never came right out and ask if we could close down the business, but when we talk about his lack of outside activities he in insistive that he can't do anything because of the business. Then, of course, I have to point out all of the things that I manage to do in addition to the business and (of course) he looks at me as if to say, "See. That's my point. I'm sitting here taking care of things so that you can go do all the other things you want to do." Since he doesn't ever say that, maybe it is also all in my head. My head goes on to rationalize that I might as well do things and leave him behind because the times that I do make a conscious attempt to be around so he can go do other things nothing happens on his part. Me at my most defensive!
Most people send out Christmas cards and often an update of what is happening in their family. Years ago I started sending a Valentines letter instead as it is my favorite holiday and I figured all my friends/family could use a little mid-winter cheer.
Several days back I set down and wrote my portion of our family letter. As my children have grown they have taken over writing their own updates.
In my letter I talked about my business changes, my running, and the changes in our pet population. It was at the point that I was re-reading for errors that I realized I had no mention of (my) Mister in the letter. OMG! Do I really like my cat Fred better than I like my husband? Wasn't I just kidding the time or two that I mentioned this notion?
That is the good thing about letter writing on a computer. It is really easy to insert and/or change paragraphs. What would the world think of me for putting my cat before my husband? Can't have that now can we? So, after backing up a couple of paragraphs, this is what I came up with for (my) Mister's recap:
_______ has had a fairly boring year, no big trips to build boats or fabulous camping trips. He goes to work and comes home to hang out with us. I am hopeful that he is able to cultivate some interest and activities this coming year that will lend some excitement to next years letter.
No wait a minute. He did have to have a hernia repair, that was scheduled two weeks before Christmas. We finally got ceiling lights in our living room (after twenty years of sitting in semi-darkness) and decided to paint the living room the weekend before surgery. Then six out of seven of us got the flu beginning that Friday. And we had a resident Christmas party the weekend after surgery. I think it was a full two weeks after we started painting before we finally finished the project. But it turned out nice and _____ managed to heal in spite of his rigorous schedule.
Next week we will celebrate nine years of marriage and this is the best I can do? What's worse, is that this is the best I think he could do if I ask him to write his own recap.
What I have concluded from this is that I am mad at him, and it is all ego. I am mad at him because I perceive that he has not grown in the time we have been together. He is stable as a rock, as consistent in his behaviors as the sun coming up in the morning. Who could want more than that?
The thing is I don't want these things for myself, but for him. Who am I to insist that someone else do something? Over the years, when I have made plans for him to go and or do something he has joyfully done so and reported having a good time yet if I don't make plans he does nothing. When I met him it was in a class that he was taking for fun and enjoyment. He bowled on a bowling league and rode his bike at least five days a week. He went to dinner with friends and read books. Why should it matter to me that now all he does is go to work and help with the business? Maybe that is truly has what he wants out of life and because that would never be enough for me I somehow think that he needs to want more as well.
Being totally honest (from my perspective) I think the real issue here is we are in a power struggle. He is W-A-Y over the business in his home and I continue to insist that it is a good thing not only because of the income, but because of the opportunity it allows us to help others. (my) Mister has never came right out and ask if we could close down the business, but when we talk about his lack of outside activities he in insistive that he can't do anything because of the business. Then, of course, I have to point out all of the things that I manage to do in addition to the business and (of course) he looks at me as if to say, "See. That's my point. I'm sitting here taking care of things so that you can go do all the other things you want to do." Since he doesn't ever say that, maybe it is also all in my head. My head goes on to rationalize that I might as well do things and leave him behind because the times that I do make a conscious attempt to be around so he can go do other things nothing happens on his part. Me at my most defensive!
So the plan now is to make sure (my) Mister reads this post and then give him the option of leaving the V letter as is or writing up his own version. Anniversaries are a great time to make renewed commitments and take stock of how things are going. Maybe this coming year will be the one in which I am able to allow things to unfold without so much interference from my ego. I have been working under the premise that I am usually right for so many years (with tons of agreement from others) that this is going to take a lot of conscious focus. But a girl can learn, and a girl can grow. Maybe a boy will want to too.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
I am not the victim of the world I see.............................
The Course in Miracles is a system set up with a daily lesson for each day of the year. After December 31 you start over with lesson one. Last year I did a poor to fair job of keeping up with the daily lessons. It is a desire to do a better job this year.
Today's lesson is the title of this post, I am not the victim of the world I see. When I was reading it it called to mind the pouting, temper tantrums that I have been having over the past two days.
I have been TOTALLY feeling victimized by the snow (of all things).
I actually looked out the window yesterday morning, stomped my foot, and wailed. For the last two days I refused to shovel the driveway (the OCDer in me still had to do the walk and the area of the drive into the house). My childish excuse: "There is no where to put the snow anymore. It can just sit there until it melts." Like I was going to hurt its feelings, or punish it somehow by letting it set there!
Thursday I went for my scheduled 8 mile run. It was somewhere around 8 degrees, the roads were snow covered and it was windy. About an hour into the run my leg muscles started to ache. Not from the run, but from the cold. They could not get warmed up enough to work properly. Did I take responsibility for being crazy for running in low temperatures? Nope. I blamed it on mother nature. Doesn't she know that I have already signed up for the marathon and bought the non-refundable tickets to fly to Tampa in a month? How can she get in my way by having winter this week? Don't I play the victim quite well?
So today, I have a 16 mile run planned. I have wised up that most of it needs to be inside because I really will be screwed if I pull something because my muscles can't warm up in the cold. Currently the temp is -4 with the wind chill. They are thinking it might get to 28 by 4 this afternoon which would be plenty warm to run outside, but if I wait until them I will be running in the dark by the time I complete the full 16. The plan is to try and sneak into the school track to do the biggest share, do a short portion outside, and finish up on the dreaded treadmill.
Hopefully, as I practice today's lesson, "I am not the victim of the world I see" I will be able to complete the run with some dignity, and gratitude, and turn it into an adventure rather than simply another reason to bitch about how bad I have things.
The Course in Miracles is a system set up with a daily lesson for each day of the year. After December 31 you start over with lesson one. Last year I did a poor to fair job of keeping up with the daily lessons. It is a desire to do a better job this year.
Today's lesson is the title of this post, I am not the victim of the world I see. When I was reading it it called to mind the pouting, temper tantrums that I have been having over the past two days.
I have been TOTALLY feeling victimized by the snow (of all things).
I actually looked out the window yesterday morning, stomped my foot, and wailed. For the last two days I refused to shovel the driveway (the OCDer in me still had to do the walk and the area of the drive into the house). My childish excuse: "There is no where to put the snow anymore. It can just sit there until it melts." Like I was going to hurt its feelings, or punish it somehow by letting it set there!
Thursday I went for my scheduled 8 mile run. It was somewhere around 8 degrees, the roads were snow covered and it was windy. About an hour into the run my leg muscles started to ache. Not from the run, but from the cold. They could not get warmed up enough to work properly. Did I take responsibility for being crazy for running in low temperatures? Nope. I blamed it on mother nature. Doesn't she know that I have already signed up for the marathon and bought the non-refundable tickets to fly to Tampa in a month? How can she get in my way by having winter this week? Don't I play the victim quite well?
So today, I have a 16 mile run planned. I have wised up that most of it needs to be inside because I really will be screwed if I pull something because my muscles can't warm up in the cold. Currently the temp is -4 with the wind chill. They are thinking it might get to 28 by 4 this afternoon which would be plenty warm to run outside, but if I wait until them I will be running in the dark by the time I complete the full 16. The plan is to try and sneak into the school track to do the biggest share, do a short portion outside, and finish up on the dreaded treadmill.
Hopefully, as I practice today's lesson, "I am not the victim of the world I see" I will be able to complete the run with some dignity, and gratitude, and turn it into an adventure rather than simply another reason to bitch about how bad I have things.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Race update.......................
I don't have much time but I am sure you are all holding your breath waiting for the results of my winter run so here it is.
In a (three words) IT WAS FABULOUS!
As we were getting ready to start the race director said the course this year was "treacherous" and his recommendation was if anyone was doubtful about finishing it they sit it out this year and stay and have a beer instead. I thought to myself, "since you don't drink beer you might as well give it a shot" so out the door we went.
It snowed the entire time and was totally and completely pitch black except for the small area my headlight lite up. About twenty minutes into the run I had fallen into last place and was having a good time slip sliding down the road. And then I hit the trail... They had said it was knee deep in parts, but for a shorty like me it was more like mid-thigh deep. No way could I perform my pseudo running so I relaxed and walked through those parts.
Needless to say in these conditions one tired out rather quickly. I began to explore the notion of not finishing the fifteen miles. But you know what? Try as I may I could not talk myself into giving up. The guys following me ask once and I told them I just wanted to know how much farther. One nice fellow must have been psychic because he said "about two miles." In my mind, anyone can run two miles so that was all I needed to keep going (I think at the time it was more like three but he "knew" what I needed to hear).
So I kept going, the guys kept checking on me, and I victoriously crossed the finish line at 4:53:10.
Afterwards, the race director commented on the fact that anyone that finished that race could consider they had ran a marathon. So that is what we are going to do on March first, in Tampa. Not sure what the weather will be there, but I doubt they will have as much snow.
I don't have much time but I am sure you are all holding your breath waiting for the results of my winter run so here it is.
In a (three words) IT WAS FABULOUS!
As we were getting ready to start the race director said the course this year was "treacherous" and his recommendation was if anyone was doubtful about finishing it they sit it out this year and stay and have a beer instead. I thought to myself, "since you don't drink beer you might as well give it a shot" so out the door we went.
It snowed the entire time and was totally and completely pitch black except for the small area my headlight lite up. About twenty minutes into the run I had fallen into last place and was having a good time slip sliding down the road. And then I hit the trail... They had said it was knee deep in parts, but for a shorty like me it was more like mid-thigh deep. No way could I perform my pseudo running so I relaxed and walked through those parts.
Needless to say in these conditions one tired out rather quickly. I began to explore the notion of not finishing the fifteen miles. But you know what? Try as I may I could not talk myself into giving up. The guys following me ask once and I told them I just wanted to know how much farther. One nice fellow must have been psychic because he said "about two miles." In my mind, anyone can run two miles so that was all I needed to keep going (I think at the time it was more like three but he "knew" what I needed to hear).
So I kept going, the guys kept checking on me, and I victoriously crossed the finish line at 4:53:10.
Afterwards, the race director commented on the fact that anyone that finished that race could consider they had ran a marathon. So that is what we are going to do on March first, in Tampa. Not sure what the weather will be there, but I doubt they will have as much snow.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
I have been training again. Next weekend we (my youngest and I) are planning to do a 15 mile trail race that begins at six in the evening. Last year it was about eight degrees out when the race started. If the fifteen miles go well we are going to do the full 26.2 in Tampa (where it will be MUCH warmer than eight degrees I hope) on March first.
Today there are plans for an eleven mile run. I am very grateful that we only got a few inches of snow rather than the massive amounts predicted. Now if the wind cooperates it will be a good time.
I mention the running because some of my best ever ideas form into consciousness during my long runs. It is either that what they say about exercise endorphins is correct, or simply that besides sleeping, my runs are the only times when someone isn't interrupting my thoughts every few minutes needing something from me.
But anyway, a day or so ago, around mile four or five, the question came into my mind as to whether or not I was happily married. As I pondered this notion I decided that no I was not happily married. I was much more than that. (Had you scared for a minute didn't I?)
I am not happily married because I determined years ago (and discussed the fact) that my partner was not responsible for my happiness. That was my job. And I have reached a place of personal happiness even when things are not necessarily running smoothly. Happiness is a choice of how I perceive events as they pass through my life. It really is that simple.
Back to my marriage... Out there on the cold snow covered roads I decided that I was contentedly married. A few posts ago on her blog Maria had a question about dating services on the web, and in that context wrote:
And while I will never use it, being happily married and all that (well, lately...okay..we have been treading water, but the vibe will return, it always does)...
That sums up perfectly my idea of being contentedly married. Are there days when I want to strangle/stab/suffocate (and that is just the S words that came to mind) (my) Mister? Sometimes it seems like weeks on end that the man irritates the _____ out of me. We could communicate (W-A-Y) better about certain things. I would give most anything if he listened to what I was saying rather than what I was saying (and you guys out there don't worry; I know that that last sentence won't make any sense to you). But even on our worst days together I have no thoughts of wanting to be in a different relationship. To a great degree this goes back to the notion that my happiness is not my partners responsibility. As I ride the wave of emotions that are part of any relationship I am in charge of how I view things. Maybe it was (my) Mister that didn't do something I ask him to do, but it is up to me to decide if it means the sky is falling or the world is ending. If I determine it is then it becomes my responsibility to fix and or change my perception of the problem and move forward in the relationship.
That sounds pretty great on paper. I guess we will just have to wait and see how I do the next time (my) Mister commits an infraction. Wish me luck!
Today there are plans for an eleven mile run. I am very grateful that we only got a few inches of snow rather than the massive amounts predicted. Now if the wind cooperates it will be a good time.
I mention the running because some of my best ever ideas form into consciousness during my long runs. It is either that what they say about exercise endorphins is correct, or simply that besides sleeping, my runs are the only times when someone isn't interrupting my thoughts every few minutes needing something from me.
But anyway, a day or so ago, around mile four or five, the question came into my mind as to whether or not I was happily married. As I pondered this notion I decided that no I was not happily married. I was much more than that. (Had you scared for a minute didn't I?)
I am not happily married because I determined years ago (and discussed the fact) that my partner was not responsible for my happiness. That was my job. And I have reached a place of personal happiness even when things are not necessarily running smoothly. Happiness is a choice of how I perceive events as they pass through my life. It really is that simple.
Back to my marriage... Out there on the cold snow covered roads I decided that I was contentedly married. A few posts ago on her blog Maria had a question about dating services on the web, and in that context wrote:
And while I will never use it, being happily married and all that (well, lately...okay..we have been treading water, but the vibe will return, it always does)...
That sums up perfectly my idea of being contentedly married. Are there days when I want to strangle/stab/suffocate (and that is just the S words that came to mind) (my) Mister? Sometimes it seems like weeks on end that the man irritates the _____ out of me. We could communicate (W-A-Y) better about certain things. I would give most anything if he listened to what I was saying rather than what I was saying (and you guys out there don't worry; I know that that last sentence won't make any sense to you). But even on our worst days together I have no thoughts of wanting to be in a different relationship. To a great degree this goes back to the notion that my happiness is not my partners responsibility. As I ride the wave of emotions that are part of any relationship I am in charge of how I view things. Maybe it was (my) Mister that didn't do something I ask him to do, but it is up to me to decide if it means the sky is falling or the world is ending. If I determine it is then it becomes my responsibility to fix and or change my perception of the problem and move forward in the relationship.
That sounds pretty great on paper. I guess we will just have to wait and see how I do the next time (my) Mister commits an infraction. Wish me luck!
Monday, January 05, 2009
My tragic first love.........................
Maria suggest it would get all of our creative juices flowing to share stories of our first love(s). Not sure how creative the old story will be re-hashed. Some of you might already know the tales about to be shared, and others of you might just get a kick of out reading about it and/or possibly (what I am truly hoping for) be jolted back into a memory or two of your own. That is what Maria did for me and why I decided to share with you all. Thanks Maria!
The story of my first love goes all the way back to 1974, when I was a junior in high school. Like many kids today, our "going out" really amounted to us walking the halls, holding hands between classes. We had one group date, a treasure hunt, and he took me to my junior prom. What an innocent, bliss filled night I remember that to be.
A week or so before school got out for the year I was allowed (No, allowed is no where near a Strong enough word for use with the authority figures I lived with) to go out to the movies with him. Arriving back to my driveway a few minutes before curfew we spent the time doing some exploring kissing (no lower than the neck) and I went in for the night. I might not be today, but back then I was a true innocent. When I went inside I was "inspected" apparently, because my brother-in-law (the father figure in my life at the time) noted that one of my buttons on the back of my blouse was unbuttoned and I had a hickey on my neck that was so small that one either needed to be looking for one or use a magnifying glass to discover it. That man was liable to do both if need be. Having mashed passionately enough to give and receive hickeys since that night I know it was a fluke as barely any suction occurred during our few minutes of making out.
Long story short I was grounded until the end of the school year, and when I went back to school in the fall my first love was dating another girl. By Christmas vacation senior year they were pregnant and he and I never talked about our brief relationship, or the connection that was established between us.
Fast forward to our five year class reunion. I went over to say hi and ask to see his kids pictures (He had three by this time. That's a lot of responsibility). As he showed me the snap shot he remarked, "They were suppose to be yours you know?" Even if one happens to want to agree with him, what does a girl say to that kind of thing? I honestly can't remember if I said anything at all. I know I was flattered, and I also knew that there was stuff that we still needed to hash over. A few minutes later I went back to my friends and went home that evening with my husband and conceived my second child.
Ten year class reunion this time. I had grown up enough that I decided it was time to put an ending to our relationship. I was also divorced. Did I want the guy back, now that I was single? Not a chance. I just wanted to put some kind of closure on what we did share because, at the time, that was the way I functioned. Control was really important to me and unfinished business (even perceived unfinished business) got in the way of that control.
I will admit that I looked pretty darn hot that night. I had on this dress that had fringe all of the way down it (like a roaring twenties flapper dress) and EVERYONE was talking about it. Regardless of how I looked I behaved like a perfect lady. We shared one dance in which I ask him if we might get together sometime and talk about the ending of our relationship. He had had a little to drink and told me that he didn't trust himself to be alone with me. I told him that was ridiculous I trusted me enough for the both of us. He then shared that he had had an affair and refused to put himself in that situation again. Since he continued to have feelings for me he would be tempted. Enough said. The song ended, he went outside and I never saw him again.
He didn't attend our fifteen year class reunion and for some reason I have been dropped from the guest list ever since then.
All these years later, I know that the very fact that we have led separate lives is plenty of closure. I no longer feel the need to talk things over with him. He was important, I wish him well, and occasionally pray that he is at peace and happy.
Still, if he called he up and invited me to have coffee I'd do it in a heart beat.
Difference is now, I am not holding my breath at the thought.
I consider that progress.
Maria suggest it would get all of our creative juices flowing to share stories of our first love(s). Not sure how creative the old story will be re-hashed. Some of you might already know the tales about to be shared, and others of you might just get a kick of out reading about it and/or possibly (what I am truly hoping for) be jolted back into a memory or two of your own. That is what Maria did for me and why I decided to share with you all. Thanks Maria!
The story of my first love goes all the way back to 1974, when I was a junior in high school. Like many kids today, our "going out" really amounted to us walking the halls, holding hands between classes. We had one group date, a treasure hunt, and he took me to my junior prom. What an innocent, bliss filled night I remember that to be.
A week or so before school got out for the year I was allowed (No, allowed is no where near a Strong enough word for use with the authority figures I lived with) to go out to the movies with him. Arriving back to my driveway a few minutes before curfew we spent the time doing some exploring kissing (no lower than the neck) and I went in for the night. I might not be today, but back then I was a true innocent. When I went inside I was "inspected" apparently, because my brother-in-law (the father figure in my life at the time) noted that one of my buttons on the back of my blouse was unbuttoned and I had a hickey on my neck that was so small that one either needed to be looking for one or use a magnifying glass to discover it. That man was liable to do both if need be. Having mashed passionately enough to give and receive hickeys since that night I know it was a fluke as barely any suction occurred during our few minutes of making out.
Long story short I was grounded until the end of the school year, and when I went back to school in the fall my first love was dating another girl. By Christmas vacation senior year they were pregnant and he and I never talked about our brief relationship, or the connection that was established between us.
Fast forward to our five year class reunion. I went over to say hi and ask to see his kids pictures (He had three by this time. That's a lot of responsibility). As he showed me the snap shot he remarked, "They were suppose to be yours you know?" Even if one happens to want to agree with him, what does a girl say to that kind of thing? I honestly can't remember if I said anything at all. I know I was flattered, and I also knew that there was stuff that we still needed to hash over. A few minutes later I went back to my friends and went home that evening with my husband and conceived my second child.
Ten year class reunion this time. I had grown up enough that I decided it was time to put an ending to our relationship. I was also divorced. Did I want the guy back, now that I was single? Not a chance. I just wanted to put some kind of closure on what we did share because, at the time, that was the way I functioned. Control was really important to me and unfinished business (even perceived unfinished business) got in the way of that control.
I will admit that I looked pretty darn hot that night. I had on this dress that had fringe all of the way down it (like a roaring twenties flapper dress) and EVERYONE was talking about it. Regardless of how I looked I behaved like a perfect lady. We shared one dance in which I ask him if we might get together sometime and talk about the ending of our relationship. He had had a little to drink and told me that he didn't trust himself to be alone with me. I told him that was ridiculous I trusted me enough for the both of us. He then shared that he had had an affair and refused to put himself in that situation again. Since he continued to have feelings for me he would be tempted. Enough said. The song ended, he went outside and I never saw him again.
He didn't attend our fifteen year class reunion and for some reason I have been dropped from the guest list ever since then.
All these years later, I know that the very fact that we have led separate lives is plenty of closure. I no longer feel the need to talk things over with him. He was important, I wish him well, and occasionally pray that he is at peace and happy.
Still, if he called he up and invited me to have coffee I'd do it in a heart beat.
Difference is now, I am not holding my breath at the thought.
I consider that progress.
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