She drove with the windows down that day, even though it was something she rarely did. Her hair flapped in the thick, humid air, happy to be free as it danced its way around her face.
She allowed no one to come with her to court, mainly because they were on vacation. She wanted to be able to think of them when she was on the stand- sipping drinks by the ocean or making sand castles with the baby-and, as always, she did not want to be a burden.
As she made her way to the beach house, she let her thoughts peel away from her brain, stowing them deep inside so that she would never forget the scar that burned inside her heart. There was no need to over process or to run through the “what ifs”. It was done, and all she had to do was find her way through her new life.
“New life” became her secret mantra-the words that made up the song of her life-the salve the healed her scar. “New life” sustained her and made her realize that indeed, “though no one can go back and make a brand new start, anyone can start from now and make a brand new ending.”*
It was fitting, then that her new ending would begin at the same place their love did years ago-at the beach. Sitting in the cool, damp sand, she hugged her legs to her chest and thanked God for everything she had and for giving her the strength to go on.
And God said “You’re Welcome” by setting the sun and starting a new day.
*Carl Bard
Thursday, May 11, 2006
Thursday, April 13, 2006
Part 21
A handshake. She gave him her heart, and he gave her a handshake. A business-like, we sealed the deal handshake. She didn’t know why she expected anything more, they did, after all, just get divorced.
The proceedings went rather smoothly, after they were let back into the courthouse. They were lucky enough to be 2nd on the docket and therefore had little time to wait. The first case was short and sweet and she soon found herself sitting at the witness stand, speaking into a microphone.
The privilege of being the instigator.
In 15 minutes their lives were split and the knots they fought so hard to tie years earlier were dissolved. And all she got was a handshake.
“Well, take care of yourself.” He said as he stuck out his awkward hand.
She laughed. “Yeah. You too.” And took his hand in hers. She turned then, and rushed to the elevator, eager to enter before he and his lawyer could follow.
On the way down, she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She was free now, to find the girl she once had been-the one who laughed more than cried, who made people smile, and who’s sense of adventure led her to meet strange and interesting people. But without someone to share it with, would it be as rewarding?
She smiled brightly at the people she passed on the way to her car. No one would have guessed by looking at her that 6 years of her life had just been taken away. No one would have thought that she was a woman scorned, an ex-wife who was cheated on, or a woman who did not know how she was going to pay her bills. No one knew because her eyes danced and her smile prevailed, and she held her head high, even when she wanted to cry.
And no one would have guessed that her broken heart was already mending itself.
The proceedings went rather smoothly, after they were let back into the courthouse. They were lucky enough to be 2nd on the docket and therefore had little time to wait. The first case was short and sweet and she soon found herself sitting at the witness stand, speaking into a microphone.
The privilege of being the instigator.
In 15 minutes their lives were split and the knots they fought so hard to tie years earlier were dissolved. And all she got was a handshake.
“Well, take care of yourself.” He said as he stuck out his awkward hand.
She laughed. “Yeah. You too.” And took his hand in hers. She turned then, and rushed to the elevator, eager to enter before he and his lawyer could follow.
On the way down, she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She was free now, to find the girl she once had been-the one who laughed more than cried, who made people smile, and who’s sense of adventure led her to meet strange and interesting people. But without someone to share it with, would it be as rewarding?
She smiled brightly at the people she passed on the way to her car. No one would have guessed by looking at her that 6 years of her life had just been taken away. No one would have thought that she was a woman scorned, an ex-wife who was cheated on, or a woman who did not know how she was going to pay her bills. No one knew because her eyes danced and her smile prevailed, and she held her head high, even when she wanted to cry.
And no one would have guessed that her broken heart was already mending itself.
Thursday, April 06, 2006
Part 20
She ran her shaking hand over her hair and smoothed away any strays that had come loose when she dressed. Her clothing was reserved-a knee length black tank dress with a baby pink cardigan, and sensible heals-even though nothing about this day was sensible.
D-day. The day her marriage would be officially over on paper. The day she got her name back, her hand back, and her key back.
But what she really wanted to know was when would she get her heart back.
Who would schedule that appointment, what paperwork did she have to file and how long would it take to process. There was no paperwork for the re-acquiring of your heart, she knew, and so she continued somberly preparing for what would always remain as the most awkward and surreal day of her life.
Nothing was ever ‘normal’ with them. There were strange meetings with people on vacations, outlandish signs, pigeons named Susie and theatrical productions by homeless people, of which they always had front row seats.
So it did not surprise her when the courthouse was evacuated due to a bomb threat.
Had this been any other man, she would have looked at this as a sign. She would have used this time to point out that God was trying to stop them from making a mistake and plead with him to reconsider.
But the damage was done, and she saw him for who he really was all of this time when she was blinded by her love for him. And to the sirens she smirked and to her husband, she smiled, knowing this was driving him mad.
She stood in the corner of the town green, watching people mill around anxiously, listening to conversations from deadbeat Dads to uninterested lawyers, and to ex-wives screaming at their ex-husbands. And she stood in the corner of the town green, watching her husband in that sea of strangers until he became one of them.
A while later, the stranger approached, stiff and confused, over dressed in his crisp blue button down and spotted blue tie. He was too skinny, and his eyes were sunken in, he seemed to be losing his hair by the minute.
He was familiar to her, she knew his eyes well, but before they were sunken and when his face was fuller and more alive.
“Hey” said the stranger. “Funny, huh?”
“I guess.”
“My lawyer just told me that we have about 2 hours before the building is cleared and the judge is calling everyone back into court at 2:30.”
“Great. That’s fantastic. What the hell are we supposed to do until then?” She let a little of the stress of the day seep out slowly, as though it found the tiniest crack in her foundation and needed to escape. She could almost hear it hissing.
“Well…are you hungry? We can go to lunch. I’m sure there are places to eat on Main Street. Are you up to it?” He was looking over her shoulder when he asked, as if to say, “I don’t really care if you say no.”
She sighed. What’s the point, she thought? Why bother? She knew he never kept his word, and she knew that unless she initiated it, they would never again be friends.
“Sure. But you are paying.” She conceded, as she walked passed him quickly, so his legs, which were shorter, could barely keep up. She waited just around the corner in front of the restaurant she chose. When he arrived, he looked up as she pointed and chuckled.
“Nice.” Was his only response to the sign that rested high above them.
It’s name: “First and Last Café”
D-day. The day her marriage would be officially over on paper. The day she got her name back, her hand back, and her key back.
But what she really wanted to know was when would she get her heart back.
Who would schedule that appointment, what paperwork did she have to file and how long would it take to process. There was no paperwork for the re-acquiring of your heart, she knew, and so she continued somberly preparing for what would always remain as the most awkward and surreal day of her life.
Nothing was ever ‘normal’ with them. There were strange meetings with people on vacations, outlandish signs, pigeons named Susie and theatrical productions by homeless people, of which they always had front row seats.
So it did not surprise her when the courthouse was evacuated due to a bomb threat.
Had this been any other man, she would have looked at this as a sign. She would have used this time to point out that God was trying to stop them from making a mistake and plead with him to reconsider.
But the damage was done, and she saw him for who he really was all of this time when she was blinded by her love for him. And to the sirens she smirked and to her husband, she smiled, knowing this was driving him mad.
She stood in the corner of the town green, watching people mill around anxiously, listening to conversations from deadbeat Dads to uninterested lawyers, and to ex-wives screaming at their ex-husbands. And she stood in the corner of the town green, watching her husband in that sea of strangers until he became one of them.
A while later, the stranger approached, stiff and confused, over dressed in his crisp blue button down and spotted blue tie. He was too skinny, and his eyes were sunken in, he seemed to be losing his hair by the minute.
He was familiar to her, she knew his eyes well, but before they were sunken and when his face was fuller and more alive.
“Hey” said the stranger. “Funny, huh?”
“I guess.”
“My lawyer just told me that we have about 2 hours before the building is cleared and the judge is calling everyone back into court at 2:30.”
“Great. That’s fantastic. What the hell are we supposed to do until then?” She let a little of the stress of the day seep out slowly, as though it found the tiniest crack in her foundation and needed to escape. She could almost hear it hissing.
“Well…are you hungry? We can go to lunch. I’m sure there are places to eat on Main Street. Are you up to it?” He was looking over her shoulder when he asked, as if to say, “I don’t really care if you say no.”
She sighed. What’s the point, she thought? Why bother? She knew he never kept his word, and she knew that unless she initiated it, they would never again be friends.
“Sure. But you are paying.” She conceded, as she walked passed him quickly, so his legs, which were shorter, could barely keep up. She waited just around the corner in front of the restaurant she chose. When he arrived, he looked up as she pointed and chuckled.
“Nice.” Was his only response to the sign that rested high above them.
It’s name: “First and Last Café”
Friday, March 24, 2006
Part 19
It’s hard to say how she managed to get through those last few months-the ones she foolishly held onto with the secret hope of his return. She wandered a lot, walking aimlessly through life, fluttering numbly from place to place, person to person, hoping that something would make her feel again.
But with her broken heart and shattered pride, what mattered most was that she kept walking.
Hours turned to days, and they grew to weeks, and still, she kept on walking.
Her heart said, “Stop”. Her spirit said, “Don’t you dare”.
And one day, she remembered a poem he had given her on one of his visits to Massachusetts. And it made her feel.
“After a while you learn the subtle difference
between holding a hand and chaining a soul,
and you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning,
and company doesn’t mean security.
And you learn that kisses aren’t contracts,
And presents aren’t promises,
And you being to accept your defeats,
With the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child.
And you learn to build all your roads on today,
Because tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain for plans,
And futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.
After a while you learn, that even sunshine burns if
you get too much.
So you plant your garden and decorate your own soul,
Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure…
That you really are strong…
That you really do have worth…
And you learn and learn…
With every goodbye you learn…”*
She remembered the day he gave it to her clearly. He just arrived from Florida and they sat in her dorm room, planning their short weekend. With a sheepish grin on his face, he turned to her and handed her a “barf bag” from the plane. On the back he was his hand written copy of a poem he knew she would love.
Little did she know that the goodbyes in the poem would be from him, and that she really could endure, and that she really was strong, and she really did have worth.
And with the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child, she kept on walking…
*Poem by Veronica A. Storffstall
But with her broken heart and shattered pride, what mattered most was that she kept walking.
Hours turned to days, and they grew to weeks, and still, she kept on walking.
Her heart said, “Stop”. Her spirit said, “Don’t you dare”.
And one day, she remembered a poem he had given her on one of his visits to Massachusetts. And it made her feel.
“After a while you learn the subtle difference
between holding a hand and chaining a soul,
and you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning,
and company doesn’t mean security.
And you learn that kisses aren’t contracts,
And presents aren’t promises,
And you being to accept your defeats,
With the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child.
And you learn to build all your roads on today,
Because tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain for plans,
And futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.
After a while you learn, that even sunshine burns if
you get too much.
So you plant your garden and decorate your own soul,
Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure…
That you really are strong…
That you really do have worth…
And you learn and learn…
With every goodbye you learn…”*
She remembered the day he gave it to her clearly. He just arrived from Florida and they sat in her dorm room, planning their short weekend. With a sheepish grin on his face, he turned to her and handed her a “barf bag” from the plane. On the back he was his hand written copy of a poem he knew she would love.
Little did she know that the goodbyes in the poem would be from him, and that she really could endure, and that she really was strong, and she really did have worth.
And with the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child, she kept on walking…
*Poem by Veronica A. Storffstall
Thursday, March 16, 2006
Part 18
The room was big, she knew that-but it looked even larger without furniture. When he left, he took even the lamps, and so there she sat, on the floor in the dark, wondering yet again, how this became her life.
She tried to convince herself that she would be ok, but as each minute passed, her tears grew heavier as the realization sunk in.
He was gone.
Over the last few months she rationalized with herself, her brain reminding her heart of the damage he caused, coaxing it slowly to harden so that it would never have to feel this way again. It wasn’t working.
She looked around the room they called the “family” room, knowing that the only families to fill it would belong to the new owners. Never would she watch as her children rounded the corner on Christmas morning, with their curiosity boiling over them like thick, frothy sweet cream.
Never would she know the joy of welcoming them home from school with freshly baked cookies before shooing them outside to explore the vast yard or perhaps to ride bikes up and down the hill. No, the only memories she would remember would be cold and lonely, and the only hope she had was shattered by the man who once helped write her dreams.
And now she sat in the dark, in the room they called the “family room”…alone.
She tried to convince herself that she would be ok, but as each minute passed, her tears grew heavier as the realization sunk in.
He was gone.
Over the last few months she rationalized with herself, her brain reminding her heart of the damage he caused, coaxing it slowly to harden so that it would never have to feel this way again. It wasn’t working.
She looked around the room they called the “family” room, knowing that the only families to fill it would belong to the new owners. Never would she watch as her children rounded the corner on Christmas morning, with their curiosity boiling over them like thick, frothy sweet cream.
Never would she know the joy of welcoming them home from school with freshly baked cookies before shooing them outside to explore the vast yard or perhaps to ride bikes up and down the hill. No, the only memories she would remember would be cold and lonely, and the only hope she had was shattered by the man who once helped write her dreams.
And now she sat in the dark, in the room they called the “family room”…alone.
Monday, March 13, 2006
Part 17
Today, the warm Florida sun shining through the window brought dread. They brought an emptiness and a sorrow that she’d never felt before.
Today was the day she was leaving.
Her sadness was for her new self-a person she always wanted to be, but was never allowed to introduce to the world.
She mourned for her new friends, her smile that she knew would fade and for the man she knew she wanted to marry. She mourned because she was not certain her parents would let her come back.
This life made her grow, it made her think, and it expanded her spirit in ways that she could never imagine. For the first time in her life, she felt as though she belonged-and now she had to leave. Her heart crumbled at the sound of the alarm clock.
“It’s time baby.” He nuzzled his face in her neck and breathed deeply. He felt the dread too.
“I know. I just want to lay here for a minute. I just….it’s…I’m scared.” She cried softly into her pillow as he tightened his arms around her.
“We’ll be ok. We’ll make it work. That’s what you always say, right? You have to believe it if you say it. You have to…” Though he was trying to comfort her, his tone was pleading-begging her to tell him she still had faith.
“I do. I’m just sad. I’m going to miss this place so much. I don’t want to go back-I like who I am here and I like making people smile…and I like you.” She rolled over so they were face to face and kissed his button nose. “I love you.” She cried.
“I love you too.”
****
Because they knew the goodbye would be more emotional than either of them could imagine, they planned to part ways from the hotel. She knew the way to the train station and her car was already packed.
They walked to the parking lot hand in hand, tears streaming down their faces. When they reached her car, they stopped and turned to each other, their eyes searching, not knowing what to say, not knowing what to do. They were simply lost in their despair.
“This is it. It’s time.” He took her hand again and pressed it into his cheek. Choking back her sobs, she leaned in and kissed his soft, wet lips goodbye, not knowing if they would ever share a kiss again.
She wanted to freeze time and suspend their bodies forever with their lips touching so that the sweet promise of “forever” would always be near.
After one last look and a long hug, she turned and got into her car. Her stomach turned, her head pounded, and her heart-broke. The life that she created and the love that they shared, was no longer in her reach.
As she exited the property she looked in her rearview mirror and vowed to always hold a piece of the kingdom in her heart.
Today was the day she was leaving.
Her sadness was for her new self-a person she always wanted to be, but was never allowed to introduce to the world.
She mourned for her new friends, her smile that she knew would fade and for the man she knew she wanted to marry. She mourned because she was not certain her parents would let her come back.
This life made her grow, it made her think, and it expanded her spirit in ways that she could never imagine. For the first time in her life, she felt as though she belonged-and now she had to leave. Her heart crumbled at the sound of the alarm clock.
“It’s time baby.” He nuzzled his face in her neck and breathed deeply. He felt the dread too.
“I know. I just want to lay here for a minute. I just….it’s…I’m scared.” She cried softly into her pillow as he tightened his arms around her.
“We’ll be ok. We’ll make it work. That’s what you always say, right? You have to believe it if you say it. You have to…” Though he was trying to comfort her, his tone was pleading-begging her to tell him she still had faith.
“I do. I’m just sad. I’m going to miss this place so much. I don’t want to go back-I like who I am here and I like making people smile…and I like you.” She rolled over so they were face to face and kissed his button nose. “I love you.” She cried.
“I love you too.”
****
Because they knew the goodbye would be more emotional than either of them could imagine, they planned to part ways from the hotel. She knew the way to the train station and her car was already packed.
They walked to the parking lot hand in hand, tears streaming down their faces. When they reached her car, they stopped and turned to each other, their eyes searching, not knowing what to say, not knowing what to do. They were simply lost in their despair.
“This is it. It’s time.” He took her hand again and pressed it into his cheek. Choking back her sobs, she leaned in and kissed his soft, wet lips goodbye, not knowing if they would ever share a kiss again.
She wanted to freeze time and suspend their bodies forever with their lips touching so that the sweet promise of “forever” would always be near.
After one last look and a long hug, she turned and got into her car. Her stomach turned, her head pounded, and her heart-broke. The life that she created and the love that they shared, was no longer in her reach.
As she exited the property she looked in her rearview mirror and vowed to always hold a piece of the kingdom in her heart.
Thursday, February 16, 2006
Part 16
She looked around the room, at the ceiling, the lamp, and wondered if the feeling she had at that moment would last. Would they make it and would she get to experience this love in another time and another place?
She’d forever remember the set up of the hotel room-the first they shared together. She’d remember the round table in the corner and the bouquet of iris’s he had delivered for her before they checked in, and the lamp-she’d remember the lamp and the way it cast a shadow on his half of the bed.
While he showered, she dreamed of a day she did not even know might exist-a day when they were married.
Would their room look like this, or would their furniture be more practical? Would they have a place to read, a place to reflect, and would they have a bathroom, so that she could fall asleep to the sound of the shower replenishing her lovers’ skin, like raindrops in the spring.
She thought of their unborn children, and whether or not he would let them cuddle in bed with them when they had a nightmare, there bodies curled softly in their safety, their sweet breath rising and falling to the beating of her heart.
She wondered if he’d lose his hair, or if by some miracle she would get to see him gray. Would he acquire laugh lines or liver spots, or both?
She wondered if, when she went blind, if he would read to her, and if he went deaf, if he would remember the sound of her voice.
And then she fell asleep alone in the bed-her only companion, the shadow from the lamp near the round table in the corner.
She’d forever remember the set up of the hotel room-the first they shared together. She’d remember the round table in the corner and the bouquet of iris’s he had delivered for her before they checked in, and the lamp-she’d remember the lamp and the way it cast a shadow on his half of the bed.
While he showered, she dreamed of a day she did not even know might exist-a day when they were married.
Would their room look like this, or would their furniture be more practical? Would they have a place to read, a place to reflect, and would they have a bathroom, so that she could fall asleep to the sound of the shower replenishing her lovers’ skin, like raindrops in the spring.
She thought of their unborn children, and whether or not he would let them cuddle in bed with them when they had a nightmare, there bodies curled softly in their safety, their sweet breath rising and falling to the beating of her heart.
She wondered if he’d lose his hair, or if by some miracle she would get to see him gray. Would he acquire laugh lines or liver spots, or both?
She wondered if, when she went blind, if he would read to her, and if he went deaf, if he would remember the sound of her voice.
And then she fell asleep alone in the bed-her only companion, the shadow from the lamp near the round table in the corner.
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