how can you mend a broken heart

A few weeks ago, my heart broke wide open once again.

During a short but long overdue visit with Mary and Rohn, I learned a few things that both infuriate me and break my heart at the same time.

I remember that day in October 2008, when I laid on the bed next to Rochelle, just a few hours before she passed away. She was struggling to talk, and was unable to. I held her hand and laid my head on her shoulder and told her to rest, that it was okay. I told her that I'd help make sure that her son was taken care of, that he'd never forget his mother, and that he would always feel loved.

And now I feel like I've let her down.

A ten year old boy without a mom, whose new stepmother doesn't hug him, cuddle him or love him the same as her own child. A boy who needs affection and an encouraging voice. He looks so much like his mother, and he has her infectious spirit, her playful mischievous laugh, and her sense of humor. As my birthday twin, he and I share a special bond. I love that kid more than I have words for.

So, how is it that he has come to live in a home that doesn't encourage him to remember her, that tolerates but doesn't help him deal with his grief? How can someone look at this child and not feel his loneliness and want to ease it?

In a tolerant and patient and forgiving moment, I can almost understand why it's easier for Dave to let go of Rochelle's memory than to actively help Rohn remember, and how Jeannie might feel insecure with the ghost of her new husband's first wife hanging around. But then I see Rohn and I want to kick both of their asses. To not include Dave and Rohn's whole family in their wedding? To treat Frank and Mary like they haven't been Dave's other set of parents, let alone friends for all these years? To hear Mary tell me that she feels as though she's not only lost her daughter, but now a son as well just made me want to scream.

As for me, I just get a cold shoulder and a "your best time to see Rohn is when he's with Mary" when I contact Dave. He doesn't say it out loud, but I got the message. I'm no longer welcome as a part of his and Rohn's life. That hurts. But not as much as what that message and attitude are going to do to Rohn as he grows up.

I want so much to believe that Dave picked someone who is good for him and who will be good to Rohn. After all, he picked Rochelle, and look at how good they were for each other. I'm just not seeing that in his new relationship. And that pisses me off. Rohn deserves better. Dave deserves better.

I'm not used to feeling anger like this. It's not a natural feeling for me to be pissed off. I'm the one who finds the even ground and makes her way through life as peacefully as possible. Not that I don't rock the boat, I just don't do it in the heat of the moment. When that feeling of anger and (hard to admit) even momentary hatred came bubbling up while standing in the parking lot talking to Mary, it caught me by surprise. Later, as I was retelling the story to my sponge girls, the same feeling choked me up and it's been haunting me for the last few weeks.

Anger. It's part of the grief process, I know. I just haven't experienced it like this yet, so I'm not totally sure how to deal with it. I know it's a valuable emotion and I recognize that I need to allow this part of the grief process to run its course, and that eventually I'll find a way to focus and channel the emotions in a way that is helpful.

I just keep wondering who is going to teach Rohn how to deal with his emotions and grief in a productive way. Who will mend his broken heart?

funny thing about boomerangs... they come back

A few weeks ago, I wrote about boomerangs and men. Little did I know, that post was premature. Maybe it’s Australian new year, and this is the year of the boomerang? 

It’s true. There have been more boomerangs, er, I mean men, coming around again. First up is “D,” the guy with whom I had the shortest fling ever between Christmas and New Years. He lives in another state and was just here visiting, so we both knew it wasn’t going anywhere. It’s still not, but apparently I’m the only one who remembers that. I have to remind him when he calls me every couple weeks.

And when I was in California a few days later, just as I lay my head down one night… Chirp. Chirp. Chirp. Chirp. Chirp. Five texts coming in. Yes. Five. And there is an apology that spans five texts. From “J,” the crazy guy. Guess he didn’t have the ability to send me a crate of doves and two dozen roses via text. If you weren’t sure about how I feel about this one – five texts in a row. At midnight. Nine months after his crazy text rampage that caused me to end the relationship just as it was getting off the ground.

A couple days later, “B” and “A” both text me – guys I had one date with and never saw again. Move along, gentlemen. I have.

And then, the super boomerang. The one who walked away from me. It hurt more than I can really admit, even now, months later. The morning he told me off, told me not to contact him again, I didn’t cry. I was numb. I didn’t feel a thing. If I allowed myself to feel the sting, it meant I cared. And if I cared, then that was just dumb of me, because he was capable of dismissing me so easily. So I simply didn’t feel it.

And then suddenly he was back. Along with a boatload of feelings bursting through the floodgates. I’m hurt, pissed off, confused, But I was also ridiculously happy to hear from him, and I'm afraid it’s turned me into a bit of a mess. I’ve missed talking to him so much.

I wish we could just pick up where we left off, and start moving forward again, but life isn’t that simple. I don’t know what’s going to happen. I just know that I’ve never wanted to punch someone and kiss them at the same time so much. To think that he once called me ambivalent. Ha! But when a man tells you you’re clever and intelligent and sexy, you really want to listen to him. He could be telling the truth.

Boomerang? Or maybe, just maybe… to be continued…

irreconcilable

What happens when you and the one you love need different things?

The other day, I had a conversation with a friend about his relationship. He and his partner are at a fundamental crossroads. Something that he considers to be a basic necessity in life is something that his partner does not believe to be necessary, and therefore won’t provide.

He didn’t have to say it. I could sense his pain over this difference a mile away. How do you walk away from someone you care about and love? How do you honor your needs when your partner won’t? How does that relationship survive? Can you really deny something about yourself that is vital to your well being in order to stay in a relationship? Maybe you can for a while. But are you ever really happy? What is the cost to your soul?

Through the experience I had as an adult watching my parents’ marriage unravel, my perceptions on commitment and relationships were altered quite drastically. Over time, it became crystal clear to me that I would never be able to commit to a relationship with a man where our needs couldn’t coexist and thrive in each others presence. I’ve seen too many friends and family members settle for less than this. I watch their struggles, and I know I don’t want that for myself.

I’m not talking about little things and small differences in a relationship. I’m talking about the big ones. The things that you absolutely need in order to feel loved by another. Without them, you will never feel complete.

Some people might say that if you love someone, you’ll accept that they may not love you the way you need. Okay, that’s one way of looking at it. You must make the sacrifice and ignore what you need in order to receive their love. You lower your expectation, and make it okay for someone to love you by giving you less than you need.

Really? Feel love by not getting what you need to feel love? Hmm…

I think that if you truly love someone, you try to discover how they need to be loved and offer them as much of that as you can. In other words, if you have to sacrifice anything, you make the sacrifice of giving more than you feel comfortable with, rather than asking them to accept less.

Remember this, my dear friend. It is never too late to choose to honor yourself. It may not be easy, but your heart knows the way.

3-18

Today is national Trisomy 18 awareness day. Although, for anyone who knows about it from experience, every day is Trisomy 18 awareness day. I'll never forget the day I learned about it.

Shauna, my best friend, had recently moved to Texas, but miles don't really matter to friends like us. We knew Shauna's doctor was concerned about something when they ordered more tests after a routine ultrasound. We even talked about the fact that if anyone could handle a baby with special needs - like Down syndrome - it would be her. After all, she took in a paraplegic kitten who wasn't expected to live a year (and is now 13). But then she got the results. It was so much worse. No amount of love and care would protect this baby. The statistics are depressing. There were so many if's. If he made it to term. If he made it through delivery. If he survived a few hours, or a few days.

And there was only one when. When our hearts would break completely. All we could do was hope it was all a mistake, pray for a miracle, and offer Shauna our support from afar. And when Jackson was stillborn on November 12, 2003, we all grieved. And we still remember.

My heart reaches out to all those who have been touched by T18 in their lives.

boomerang

When I was a kid and a friend's dad brought back authentic boomerangs from a trip to Australia, we all ran over to the baseball field to practice. He showed us how to throw them - and his always sailed out confidently in a perfect spin, coming right back to him time and time again. We were much less successful. Mine would go out and maybe start to turn back before getting distracted and falling to earth with a thud and a cloud of dust. We tried all summer to master the art of the boomerang.

Oh boy, here we go again!

I've done my share of dating in the last year or two. Meeting guys at the dog park, online, out dancing with friends, and even speed dating. Some were funny, some were kinda weird, some kind of forgettable and uninteresting. Some led to second dates and more, and some never called again. A handful of men stood out for one reason or another. The ones I actually liked. The ones I daydreamed about afterward. The ones who made my heart flutter. Ha! I really gotta figure out the difference between flutter and indigestion!

And then, for one reason or another, they all ended. In some cases, I chose not to continue dating them. "A" was too attached and wanted too much from our relationship too soon. "J" lied to me about too many things, and was also a little pushy. With "E" I went 3 hours out of my way to spend a very special night with him and got stood up, and a little heart broken. With "R" I made an insecure sarcastic comment at the wrong time and a man I'd dreamed of being close to was gone without another word. "S" met someone else at a party - but had the decency and kindness to tell me honestly before we got too serious - and we both walked away peacefully.

I know, that's not all of them who matter, but I'm not ready to talk about those I've left out yet. Some of my stories haven't ended, are just beginning, or are still too painful. After all, we're talking about my heart here. I may joke around, but I am still just a girl looking for love.

The thing is, while all those relationships ended or fizzled out, I've been practicing one rule. To be true to myself. To know what I need, what I want, to be fully my sarcastic, silly, sensitive self. At least this way, I know that if someone walks away, they are walking away from the real me, not someone I pretended to be. And if I push them away, it's because I know they aren't right for me in some way. So I don't regret what I've learned or how I've learned it. I've been truthful and direct with each one about my reasons for moving on.

Then, last week happened. Two of the guys I've moved on from came back around. Wanted to try again. Like a boomerang. Didn't "E" hear me when I said "you won't get another chance to hurt me like that" when he called to explain why he stood me up? And "S" is just feeling the water - am I still interested in being friends? That led to an interesting conversation about what "friends" means. Apparently, we're allowed to go out for ice cream and beer and watch tv sometimes. Oh, and we get to tell jokes and laugh, but no flirting is allowed. And then he proceeded to flirt like it was going out of style. Dang he's cute!

Is this normal male behavior, or does this just happen to me? Apparently, pushing men away with honesty and integrity actually draws them back like a boomerang. Who knew?

mulligan?

Hey.

I was sleeping soundly when I heard it, the sound of a text coming in. It was late, who could be texting me at this hour? I groggily reached over and grabbed my phone. Opening one eye, I tried to focus on the screen. Maybe I should have grabbed my glasses too. Then everything came into focus at once, and my heart lurched. There it was, three little letters, “Hey” From him.

I don’t often end relationships badly. By the time I break up with someone, we’re usually able to stay friends, or at least friendly. Not this guy. He said horrible things to me as he was tearing me down, accusing me of things I didn’t do, and walking away. I still remember trying to reason with him, to explain that he misunderstood my actions, begging him to hear my explanation, and his response, “No way, I hate you.”

If there was a relationship I could use a mulligan on, it’s him. How I’ve wanted for so long to prove to him that I wasn’t the person he accused me of being. How I wanted to show him what he meant to me, to pull him close and make everything all right. But that bridge was burned, I knew he hated me, he said it so clearly, and I wasn’t going to change his mind. So I let him go. Eventually I moved on. But when he crosses my mind, it’s always with a twinge of regret and bittersweet memories. Very few have ever reached that deep into my soul.

So there it was, a simple “hey.” A door open, just a crack. And my mind went off in a million directions at once. Quick, do a happy dance! Should I play it cool or ask him what the hell he wants? Do I ignore him entirely? Why now, after all this time? Is he okay? Will there be a spark when I see him? Does he even want to see me? How will I ever know what made him reach out to me now? For crying out loud answer the damn text already!

After considerable thought, I responded the only possible way I could to such a message. I said, “Hey, what’s up?” Yup. I totally showed him. Literary genius, that’s me.

It worked. The door opened a little more. We started talking. I don’t know that it’ll go anywhere, but at least the anger and hatred is gone. He said he couldn’t hate me. He knows I was honest. We both apologized for our bad behavior that led to the fight that ended any chance we had. Forgiveness feels good.

No promises have been offered. No plans made. But the door is open. That’s enough for today. My heart is a little lighter.

an exotic evening

I had a chance to see an advance screening of a new movie last night. The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel. A most excellent movie. Amazingly full of the stuff of life. Go see it. I can't even pick a favorite character - the casting was spot-on, and each person's story was a brilliant part of the symphony. Just go see it. I'm no movie critic - but this is funny and sad and serious and sweet all at once.

And it's full of little quote gems, like "It will all be okay in the end. If it's not okay, it's not the end." And, "I'm single by choice, just not my choice."

p.s. Judy Densch's character was my favorite. I think.

with every goodbye you learn

Who hasn't experienced the pain of a broken heart? Who hasn't hung their hopes on someone else and then had to rush to pick up the scattered pieces when it fell apart? This poem has had a home on my wall in every home I've had since college, when my first love broke my heart. I always find something in this poem that rings true to whatever relationship I'm in at the time. Yes, it's true, I'm stronger than I think and I can endure, but just once I'd like to not have to. Just once.

AFTER A WHILE (Veronica Shoftshall, 1971)

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 always mean security.

And you begin to learn that kisses aren't contracts
and presents aren't promises
and you begin to accept
your defeats
with your head up
and your eyes ahead
with the grace of an adult,
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 own garden
and decorate your own soul
instead of waiting for someone
to bring you flowers.

And you learn
that you really can endure
you really are strong
you really do have worth
and you learn
and you learn
with every goodbye, you learn...