His name was Mark.  Probably still is.  Thank you God!

I'd love to build a bridge today that would reach the place that my beloved ex-husband  Jim resides.  He died two years ago today.  I miss him.  I'm not ready to join him yet but I would dearly love to talk with him and wrap a finger around one of his blonde curls.




I wrote this shortly before he died ~


Remember, Baby, when the boys were born?  Each beautiful little tow-head refusing to be the girl we wished for?  Remember, my sweet, the crazy raucous days of baseball bats, messes everywhere, those trips to the emergency room to get their fragile skin stitched back together?  Boys!  Our boys!  Our joys!

Remember, my darling, when we divorced and everyone who saw us together would ask, why are you divorced – you love each other so much!  We nodded our heads in agreement and smiled our secret smile.  It wasn’t something that could be explained.  Thank you for letting me go. 

Remember? And, now my sweetest love, you are asking me to let you go.  I cry against it.  I fight against it.  How do I live without you?  I know I must release you.  Free you to fly with the angels.  Tell your Mom and Dad hello for me.

Remember, Honey, how easily I cry when I see someone suffering?  My tears are raining down on you, washing away your pain this one last time.  Let me gather you in my arms and comfort you.  Let me whisper in your ear I love, I love, I love you Jim. 

Remember, Love, you promised to love me forever.  I’ve always believed in that and it always gave me comfort in even the worst of times.  Will you still love me forever?  Will you still be my best friend?  Promise me. 
You go, my dearest love, but don’t leave me.

Not many.  I learned a long time ago to stop trying to predict the future.  I liken it to saying, "My child would never do that!" 

Serious?  If I'm there you're gonna smile and laugh and be joyful! 

Ironic, Alanis Morissette.

(and yes, I really do think!)

Reminding myself (and sometimes I have to do this repeatedly!) that everything that really matters is still fine.  My family is my everything.  As long as we all have each other it's all good.  Sometimes hitting my knees and giving up, admitting defeat and that I am powerless, helps too.  And I'm not even an alcoholic :0)!  Joking aside, my Dad lives by those words and I've seen the transformation in his life, a transformation I never thought possible, so I believe.

Of course I prefer a gentle awakening.  I'm a block head though so it often takes a good shake, at least 5.0 on the Richter scale.  After I finish running to nowhere for safety, then my eyes tend to open up and I can say "Aha!"

I hit 50,000+ words!  Yahoo!  Doing somersaults.  Ow, that hurt.  My back and my ass are sore from sitting in a chair and writing for eleven days.

I loved acting when I was little.  Had a part in every play possible, sang and danced for anyone who would watch me in action (thank you Grandma).  Oddly, when it comes to "real life" I can't act at all.  I just yam who I yam.  Words fly out of my mouth, unchecked.  I'm a terrible liar.  I lose my temper but I forgive (or regret having lost temper) two minutes later.  I'm an open book.  It gets me into trouble sometimes.  I am trusting and often divulge too much to people who seek to do me harm or send out the wrong signals (to men, pigs that you are, just kidding guys!).  My Mom came from a very "hush hush" family, everything swept under the rug or tucked away in a closet.  I about drove her to distraction.  Still do, I think.

My first grandchild, little Mr. Jimmy Steven Jelinek.  I would tell him everything I know, except that he probably wouldn't listen so instead I'll just love him so hard that it will be his most prominent memory of a doting Grandmother.  Someday he'll understand that love is all that matters all on his own.