What about us

I haven’t posted in forever…

Life in Oklahoma is busy.

My oldest finally married his high school sweetheart this summer. It was a beautiful, sweet, fun ceremony, and I only cried tears of happiness.

Well maybe a few of sadness but a good sad, the ones because he grew up.

My other boys have grown into great young men. They are funny and kind, interesting and smart, giving and sweet.

They all make this mammas heart happy, and sometimes I give old batshit crazy the middle finger.

I wave it high in the air hoping she sees it in Alaska. Her with her comments on what kind of men my then boys would turn into with my husband as a father.

“Better than your daughter turned out,” I’d say with a smirk.

If I ever had the displeasure to run into her again, but I won’t.

Thank god.

I thank him, a lot anymore.

For making me stronger, and giving me better instead of bitter.

Today I’m slightly bitter, but sour punch straw bitter, not full on suck a lemon bitter.

I’d just make your cheeks clench a little bit.

I get two days of slightly bitter, and this my old friends is still one.

My 25th wedding anniversary is today.

I’ve told no one, not a mention.

No post on social media.

Romantic getaway.

Or even simple acknowledgement.

It’s here.

Tomorrow it will be gone.

I take comfort in knowing this too shall pass.

The ache in the scar that I run my fingers across daily, tells me what today could have been.

I feel myself touching it, mostly out of habit, to make sure it’s still healed.

Or maybe as a reminder that I’m still here and okay.

I am okay.

Mostly okay.

Some days even better than I was, I like this me.

I’m becoming someone the old Kelly would have liked.

Maybe even have admired.

She would have been a little judgmental on how little this Kelly cooks.

Or cares about her image.

And let’s the middle finger fly.

Let’s be real though, The old Kelly also thought wedding anniversaries should be celebrated.

Bad things only happened to bad people.

And that if you loved someone you didn’t hurt them.

She was sweet but naive.

I don’t know what the future hold, life has taught me that.

I do know, my family?

We are stronger than a can can whore affair.

And we are still together.

For better, or worse.

“Sticks and stones, they may break these bones
But then I’ll be ready, are you ready?
It’s the start of us, waking up, come on
Are you ready? I’ll be ready
I don’t want control, I want to let go
Are you ready? I’ll be ready
‘Cause now it’s time to let them know
We are ready, what about us?

What about us?
What about all the times you said you had the answers?
So what about us?
What about all the broken happy ever afters?
Oh, what about us?
What about all the plans that ended in disaster?
Oh, what about love? What about trust?
What about us?“

-Pink-

Walk On

I once read a book about a woman who claimed,  her husbands affair was the best thing that happened to her.

I’ve talked about it before.

Total rubbish in most regards, but I read it because finding anything about coming out of the betrayal of an affair still whole, was hard to come by.

It must still be six years later because I have way too many weekly readers.

I know we don’t see it on TV or the movies, only one that comes to mind is the Julia Roberts one.

She poisons her husband (just a little) and goes slightly crazy.

I adore that movie, it makes my husband a little paranoid as I sit giggling and cheering.

I’m sure there are self help books out there, just for surviving a broken heart.

I only read the one, then threw it in the trash.

And found my own way of healing.

I am to that point in my healing where I’m finding me.

I spent twenty years as a stay at home mom.

My world revolved around my kids, my husband and their wants and needs.

I ran from games and class parties then back to check cattle and deliver pigs.

Because it was what they loved, so I did it.

For twenty years.

After my world fell apart, I struggled to find my way back.

To juggle my days and find the perfection I tried to maintain, as a mom and wife.

Then one day I woke up and realized I couldn’t give two shits if Lou’s class party treats were homemade.

Or if the cookie jar was full of little Debbie cakes instead of fresh cookies.

My kids could hear it’s Ramen or cereal for supper and survive.

My husband and father in law would live without my daily help on the farm.

“I’ve retired,” I announced after they both stopped the weekly/daily travel with work.

I’ve watched as my now grown boys have stepped up and into the shoes I discarded.

They’ve reluctantly started splitting the chores that used to consume my life.

And what of my old life?

When I was finally well enough to reclaim it?

When the exhausting voices stopped, and the crippling depression lifted.

A funny thing happened.

I said “No thank you.”

I walked into the light, my old life, and said , “No thanks Bob.”

”You don’t want your old life back, Kelly?” Bob my inner physiatrist asked.

”Nope,” I shook my head, “ I think I’ll leave most of it there.” I point behind me where Sad Kelly, Angry Kelly, and Totally Crazy Kelly stand together over a hole, with shovels and a bag.

“What’s in the bag Kelly?” Bob asks slightly alarmed.

“My anger, and grief, “ I smile at Bob,” memories I don’t want anymore. Not to worry, Bob I didn’t kill anyone.”

”And your old life Kelly, you’re just throwing it away?” Bob looks over my shoulder,  as a tuft of bright colored Can Can costume wiggles out of the top of the bag.

Angry Kelly shoves it back in, as Crazy Kelly casually smacks it with her shovel and Sad Kelly smiles and kicks the squirming bag.

A whiney gasp is heard from inside.

”No, I’m keeping my family, and some old friends. I’m taking the parts of me I still love. “ I walk slowly back to the circle of Kelly’s, and together we push the heavy bag into the hole.

”But all the pieces of everyone else’s lives? Their needs and wants that I always placed before my own? The person who made her life about everyone else? Who cares how everyone saw her? That part of my life can stay here, I’m going to find what makes me happy. “ I look around at the Kelly’s and take their hands.

Bob walks forward and softly takes my free hand.

“I have learned in this journey, that I’m more than a wife. As much as I love my kids, I’m more than a mom. And Bob, I’m more than my husbands mistakes, and a once broken family. I’ve only started figuring out what I am.”

We slowly drop hands and pick up our shovels. The bag stops wiggling as we cover it with dirt.

Crazy Kelly smiles and starts packing the dirt down with a  dance 💃 full of leg kicks.

We all collapse in a pile of hugs and giggles.

Bob reaches down shaking his head and helps us up.

He brushes us off one by one.

And stands over the silent now filled in hole, watching as the Kelly’s walk off into the sunset holding hands, laughing.

Bob smiles, looks at the dirt one more time, and as I look back in amazement he shrugs his shoulder and spits on the ground.

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” he confesses softly with a wink, as he walks off by himself.

It wasn’t fun.

It sure as Hell wasn’t pretty.

But when it was done, my sweet friends, I found myself.

A new job.

New hobbies.

New friends.

A new, maybe not better, but just as good Kelly.

And you can too.

The other day I was told I should start a blog, for my photography I’ve began.

I replied I might try that.

The whole blogging thing.

One with pictures.

Maybe song lyrics to go with the post.

Maybe a recipe or two.

Who knows what the future holds?

Now that parts of the past have been laid to rest.

• It’s almost exciting to see what I become in this next chapter.

“And love is not the easy thing
The only baggage that you can bring
Love is not the easy thing
The only baggage you can bring
Is all that you can’t leave behind…

And if the darkness is to keep us apart
And if the daylight feels like it’s a long way off
And if your glass heart should crack
And for a second you turn back
Oh no, be strong

Oh, oh
Walk on, walk on
What you got, they can’t steal it
No, they can’t even feel it
Walk on, walk on
Stay safe tonight

You’re packing a suitcase for a place none of us has been
A place that has to be believed, to be seen
You could have flown away
A singing bird in an open cage
Who will only fly, only fly, for freedom” -U2

Read more: U2 – Walk On Lyrics | MetroLyrics “

 

Try

I’ve had four major appliances go out the last couple months.

My washing machine, dryer, oven and microwave.

We fixed the first three.

Threw out the microwave.

All three of our other appliances?

The parts and effort were worth the investment.

It reminded me of my marriage.

Maybe of yours too?

Think about it.

Dating for a couple months, he/she cheats?

They’re an ass?

You throw them out and move on, they aren’t worth the time and effort to make the relationship work.

Kids.

Home.

Love.

Those are investment pieces.

You take it apart and see if you can fix it.

Find the problem and look into repairing it.

Sometimes it works again.

Maybe when it’s all said and done you still have to throw it away.

And that’s okay.

Just remember my advice.

Upgrade ;-))

Do you research and don’t pick one with bigger problems than your old model.

But don’t be afraid of trying to fix it.

Be Brave my sweet friends.

Just my thoughts, over five years out, on this Sunday morning.

Ever wonder about what he’s doing?

How it all turned to lies?

Sometimes I think that it’s better to never ask why

Where there is desire

There is gonna be a flame

Where there is a flame

Someone’s bound to get burned

But just because it burns

Doesn’t mean you’re gonna die

You’ve gotta get up and try, and try, and try

-Pink

Hello

Wow it’s been awhile…

i still write.

I just don’t push post.

I think maybe I’ve gotten to the point where I don’t need an audience for my thoughts.

It is nice though.

Knowing if I need friends and voices other than the ones still here in my head? You are all still here.

Waiting and reading.

Some of you old friends.

A few of you new.

A thousand views last week on this old blog.

Makes me wonder who stumbled across it.

What sadness and anger consumed them as they typed in a search word and up popped my words.

I remember my frenzied reading days of D-Day.

Five years ago last week? That was me…

Crying and desperate for help.

For anyone and anything that could help explain the pain.

This year it wasn’t mentioned, the anniversary of one of the worst days of my life.

Except in a brief text, from a young friend.

She remembers everything, she’s our families walking talking planner.

I didn’t respond.

I think because response meant peeking under my scar, rubbing it? Acknowledging it? Seeing if it was still there?

It was.

But it wasn’t as ugly as I remember.

I do remember.

Still every single day.

I still cringe when people mention people cheating.

Or when they make a joke about it.

Most the time I just awkwardly nod my head or smile, hoping they don’t notice my first reaction.

The brief moment I go back, and I’m there reliving it all.

Alice in the rabbit hole that is infidelity.

I don’t know if that will ever go away.

What does five years out look like?

My family is still here.

They are all older.

Lou turns eight.

My oldest is out of college.

My middle one back from Texas.

And the baby boy off to college.

We laugh.

We yell.

We cuss and fight.

We are happy.

And healthy.

And have almost found, the happiness that used to live here.

Thanks for still being here my sweet friends.

 

 

 

Rose Garden

My knockout roses have died…

If you remember, I once talked about having dozens of them surrounding my house.

26 Knockout Roses to be exact.

Pink, Hot Pink, Coral, Yellow and regular, mini, and drift roses.

They got a disease and slowly started dying.

They had these nasty twisted stems.

They fell over and bent.

Even the blooms and the leaves changed.

My sweet friend went to the nursery in town and asked how to save them.

“Pull them up and burn them..” she was told.

And to not plant another rose bush in the hole for at least two years.

TWO YEARS?!?

I went outside and finally started cutting them back.

At first I was heartbroken…I love my roses.

I thought about how much time I spent, digging holes, watering, weeding and fertilizing them.

Some of them were 8 years old.

They were my pride and joy.

As I stood there cutting them down, it hit me.

My roses are like my marriage.

It became diseased.

Ugly.

Twisted.

Finally I had to step back and decide to tear parts of it up.

His Job.

Several Friendships.

Life as we both knew it.

We cut back, tried keeping parts we thought were healthy, might just make it…but in the end, most were ‘burned’.

When we started over?

We didn’t look for the same things.

He’s no longer gone chasing money, and prestiage.

We have a whole new circle of friends. 

I have a job outside of our home.

We changed our communication within our marriage…I no longer bite my tongue, he listens even when I don’t physically talk, and we talk about the hard stuff.

My/our hope?

That someday when I decide to start over, replant the last pieces of our marriage. 

My full trust.

The last guarded pieces of my heart.

Loving him completely.

I think if done too quickly, the disease would have came back in other forms. 

Someday I’ll get my rose garden back.

I will appreciate them more then.

I will be aware that even the ‘disease resistant’ knockout rOses are vulnerable. 

Next time I’ll know the signs.

And at the first bent stem, diseases leaf?

I will take action to protect my garden. 

In the meantime, I’m looking at Butterfly bushes, maybe a few Lilacs, to fill the void left behind. 

It won’t be the same…but change my sweet friends can be healing. 

“I beg your pardon

I never promised you a rose garden

Along with the sunshine

There’s gotta be a little rain some time

When you take you gotta give so live and let live

Or let go oh-whoa-whoa-whoa

I beg your pardon

I never promised you a rose garden

I could promise you things like big diamond rings

But you don’t find roses growin’ on stalks of clover

So you better think it over

Well if sweet-talkin’ you could make it come true

I would give you the world right now on a silver platter

But what would it matter

So smile for a while and let’s be jolly

Love shouldn’t be so melancholy

Come along and share the good times while we can”

-Lynn Anderson-

I’m Moving On

Saw the whore’s car the other day…

The one I’d daydreamed about shitting on.

If we’re being honest? I once upon a time in Alaska had to use ALL my self control, as an adult and mother of four, not to jump out of my husbands car as we drove by her trailer and run…cackling wildly…drop drawer…and shit on top of her car.

“The Jewel” was what she referred to it as.

Don’t glare at me and roll your eyes, I can’t make this shit up.

I referred to it as the Whore Mobile…the if it’s rocking? Don’t bother knocking, she’s already found her next “victim” it’s too late.

I’m joking.

She sold it after she was fired from her job.

Ahh, Karma, almost as sweet as my covering her “Jewel” with my own cosmic karma pile.

Back to my story…

I was walking out of the grocery store with my youngest son and Lou, when there it sat.

Front row.

A black Acadia, just like her old car.

My eyes saw it, but my heart didn’t feel it.

Stay with me…

MY EYES SAW IT BUT NOTHING.

Not a twinge from what was once a huge trigger.

I acknowledged it with an eye roll, laughed with my son, and moved on.

I MOVED ON.

For four long years, I have dealt with crippling triggers.

Slowly they are fading.

Some I don’t notice anymore, I’ve become immune to them.

The bigger ones still sting.

This one was a visual trigger, that used to knock the air out of me. I guess my subconscious always thought a door would open and I’d see a humongous thigh come lurching out…followed by the rest of her.

Silly?

Yes, but a very real trigger.

I’m just happy I’m healing.

And even kind of glad I didn’t give into my impulse that cold day in Valdez.

She wasn’t worth one more  moment of my time then.

She certainly isn’t worth it now.

I might still have scars.

But I’m healing.

I’m moving on.

How crazy is that?

“I’ve dealt with my ghosts and I’ve faced all my demons

Finally content with a past I regret

I’ve found you find strength in your moments of weakness

For once I’m at peace with myself

I’ve been burdened with blame, trapped in the past for too long

I’m movin’ on
I’ve lived in this place and I know all the faces

Each one is different but they’re always the same

They mean me no harm but it’s time that I face it

They’ll never allow me to change

But I never dreamed home would end up where I don’t belong

I’m movin’ on
I’m movin’ on

At last I can see life has been patiently waiting for me

And I know there’s no guarantees, but I’m not alone

There comes a time in everyone’s life

When all you can see are the years passing by

And I have made up my mind that those days are gone
I sold what I could and packed what I couldn’t

Stopped to fill up on my way out of town

I’ve loved like I should but lived like I shouldn’t

I had to lose everything to find out

Maybe forgiveness will find me somewhere down this road

I’m movin’ on
I’m movin’ on

I’m movin’ on”

-Rascal Flatts-

Heathens

I saw this and I loved it.

One of the hardest parts of all this was coming to terms with how awful people can be.

It made me paranoid.

It made me clam up, and close up the best part of myself. 

It made me sad.

People can be truly terrible. 

And it almost destroyed the open part of me.

The one who tries to always see the best in people.

Who makes excuses for them.

Who loves them until I can’t love them anymore.

I like to love.

To laugh.

And to ramble…

On and on about things I’m passionate about.

My family.

My kids.

My friends.

I am glad I fought for me.

The parts which make me a nice person and me.

The part that still picks wild flowers on the side of the road.

Who smiles and talks to strangers when standing in the check out lane.

I’ve built a bigger kitchen table instead of walls.

My heart is still bigger than it should be to be safe. 

Life, my sweet friends, is to short to live it safe.

And who wants to give terrible people power over our feelings and selves? 

“We don’t deal with outsiders very well

They say newcomers have a certain smell

Yeah, I trust issues, not to mention

They say they can smell your intentions

You’re lovin’ on the freakshow sitting next to you

You’ll have some weird people sitting next to you

You’ll think “how did I get here, sitting next to you?”

But after all I’ve said, please don’t forget

(Watch it, watch it)
(Watch it)

All my friends are heathens, take it slow

Wait for them to ask you who you know

Please don’t make any sudden moves

You don’t know the half of the abuse”

-Twenty One Pilots-