A Day in the life of Divorce

She is leaving. Her mind isn’t quite made up but something deep down is guiding her to this conclusion. He won’t change, and she knows this. She has told herself this over and over again. “People don’t change”. Everyone reminds her of this even though she takes pride in trying or accomplishing change. She feels like she is manipulating her own thoughts.

“You know you have to do this.”

“You know it’s the right thing to do.”

“You know this is what you want.”

Or is it? Does she know what she wants or is she flying by the seat of her pants? Is she willing to throw it all away for this gut feeling? With every question, another question comes up and she can’t shake the feeling that her uncertainty worries her.

She begins to analyze her life. She was vibrant and full of life and now she feels weak without direction. She was driven and grasped on to her career with vigor and enthusiasm. Now she isn’t working and has no desire to do so. She felt pretty and confident. Today she feels ugly and wonders where her glow went. She thinks he did this to her. This soulmate has sucked the energy from her.

She tells him, its over. She is afraid to see his reaction but hopes it will be easier then the road leading up to this momentous decision. He is mad, but he doesn’t cry this time. The coldness, which lies deep within, makes a quick appearance and vanishes quickly. She hasn’t seen his cold side in a very long time. The last time was now a refreshed memory of separation and pain. Last time he walked away with not so much as a look in her direction, leaving her alone, son in hand, at the airplane. Today she is walking away.

She begins to pack. Daydreams filled with age appropriate apartments, a career and a new lease on life dance through her head. The nagging feeling is gone, she feels confident in her decision. Oh the possibilities are endless.

A few days go by and she is counting the days until she can physically leave. She is moving away, to another state. She has a support system there and feels it is the best move for her. Her son will stay with him for awhile. That will be hard.

Something has changed. She senses it but cannot put her finger on it. Like an energy shift, the air was unrecognized. He seems fine. He has come to the conclusion that this is best. He seems weird. He is acting weird. Over a decade of living with this man and she doesn’t recognize him. He’s going to dinner at a friends house. He has been leaving a lot. It feels strange watching him go out and enjoy life when he mostly sat around when they were together.  “What time are you going?” she asks. “You are leaving at 6?……pause…..are you taking our son?”. He is not, why would he? She just asked that because she had nothing else to say but felt weird not saying more. Only a few more days and she will be on her way. “You aren’t going till 8 now?” she asks, perplexed. Why would you invite someone to dinner and not know when your wife was coming home to cook it? She continues packing, thinking about what she will make for dinner. ” Now you aren’t going to dinner? ….what kind of problems? ohhhh….marriage issues?”. This is the strangest situation she’s ever heard! Invited to dinner, pushed out for a couple of hours, now dinner is off because wife and hubby are having issues.

She’s in the kitchen, getting the pan out.

“Why are you going over there?”

His friend needs someone to lean on. “You might stay the night?”

He met someone. She hides this thought from her face. She tends to give away feelings with her face. She watches him walk out of the house. Something shifts within her. She doesn’t realize it, only senses it slightly. But, other thoughts are consuming her mind now. Maybe she is letting her imagination get the best of her.

Her and son eat dinner. She makes his lunch for the next day. She wonders if he will come back, after all he did tell her he might stay over. The boy goes to bed, giving her a big kiss as he runs through the house to his room, leaving giggles in his wake. Maybe she should send him a text and ask if he is going to stay so she can set the alarm if she has to? That sounds good…………

…….

…….

…….

“ok”.

He is coming back. She questions her first reaction. Crawling in bed, she tells herself, no big deal after all.

Time for coffee. He’s gone and son is on his bike, heading to school. Driving always evokes a little meditation on her part. She allows her mind to take over for a bit while her conscience takes care of the driving. She allows it to happen, allows it to come in, take a seat and get comfy on the mush of her brain. She couldn’t help it, what happened last night was weird and she cannot let it go. Why can’t she? She is troubled once again with this feeling that keeps coming back to her. What is she doing? Is she making the right decision? Was he with her last night?

She should be jumping for joy, after all, she asked God to make this easy on him. What is easier then meeting someone new? But I’m still here.

I have to know.

He has a lock on his phone. When did that happen? I’ve never looked at his phone before. He has it plugged in near his feet. There is no room to walk between the couch and table, what if I kick him on accident? I’d be caught and that would really suck. You’ve been married to him for 11 years! Walk over to the phone, unplug it and walk away, NOW! Deep breath, go!

####, *enter

It worked. Find the texts, find her name, scroll scroll scroll…..keywords:

miss

baby

can’t wait

hate

see you soon

lunch

I never loved her.

She is shaking. Stop shaking. Stop shaking. Deep breaths. Close it. Put it back. Go lay down. Don’t think. Don’t think. Don’t think. Don’t think. Don’t cry.

You wanted this.

I know I did.

Then why are you crying?

Because I love him.

Then why are you leaving?

I don’t know.

 

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The Death of my Grandfather…whom I barely knew.

On the 22nd of March 2010, my grandfather, Jackie Mills, passed away.
He was 88 years old and his life was anything but boring.

I barely knew him, knowing as a child that I had met him once as a baby. When I was 10 or 11, him and his wife at the time (He has had many), moved to Denver from California. This is what I would consider my first meeting and he was nice to my sister and I. He had a beautiful house in Cherry Creek which made my jaw drop. I won’t say we grew up poor cause it sounds so cliché these days but we grew up appreciating the little things. This house wasn’t little and I’m sure I was in awe. We were invited to stay for a few days. I have pleasant memories of this stay to a certain degree. His daughter was there, who is my age and I’m not sure she liked my sister and I too much at the time.(As a sidenote, I have since, very recently written back and forth with her and she is very nice!) My Grandpa’s wife, Janie, I’m pretty sure didn’t like us at all. We didn’t know it at the time, but apparently the few days we were there was too long and my parents received a very early phone call one morning letting them know we were ready to be picked up. That’s the last time I ever saw him.

This isn’t all I know of him though. My Mom didn’t have much of a relationship with him either but she knew him and his history and I used to love the stories.

You see, many people don’t know that I am a descendent in a short line of brilliant musicians and singers. I can’t give you exact dates or exact circumstances, I can just tell you the broad range of stories I have been told over the years.

My grandfather, Jackie Mills, was a jazz drummer. He grew up in Harlem, NY and from what I have heard, started very young and got recognition quite young also. He started his own band and in this whole process, somewhere in the late 40’s, met my Grandmother. My grandmother was a singer, Jackie was playing the drums with the Desi Arnaz Band. I’m making assumptions on dates here because I know what year my mother was born and I know how long Jackie and Grandma were married. They wed, they had my mother in Manhattan and then things turned not so good. When my mother was 3-ish, they divorced. Apparently, it was hard to keep the women away or hard to keep him away from them(and I think I’m being gentle in saying that). I won’t fault him for it and I have nothing to forgive. It was the way he was and the biggest thing that sucks about it is I’m sure my grandmother was heartbroken and my mother lacked her father being around most of her life.

I know there was plenty of stories in between here but we’ll skip back to my mom. Sometime when she was 16 or 18…I don’t know why I can’t remember…it may have been both, she flew the coop of her mom’s and went to live with Jackie in California. She has a million stories about who she met, what she went through. She worked at Jackie’s music studio, Larrabee Sound Studios. She met some of the greats before they were great. She met plenty of one hit wonders too. I hope this is all tying into my mom’s obsession with music and her new (Shill Alert) Coasters!

EDIT: I need to correct the below statement. Jackie did not help her get to Japan though he did meet with Tokyo Productions to make sure they were legit. My mom was a singer and a good one and I’m sorry to say that my memories aren’t serving Jackie as well as I thought. He was in the music business but not once, did he hear her sing. My mother called agents for days trying to find her own way when this opportunity arised.

In the end, when my mom was in her early 20’s and before I was ever a glint in her eye, Jackie did something for her. He got her a singing gig, (yes my mom sings too), in Japan. My mother sang for 6 months in some of the coolest described clubs I’d ever heard of or have ever seen. She told stories of showing the Japanese little ladies how not to take shit from the mean men who thought they could have their way with them. She was a contemporary  Susan B. Anthony. There would be no women’s suffrage if my mom had anything to say about it! And then my mom came home and through a slew of strange events, she met my Dad and fell instantly in love, never to return to Japan again.

I know little things here and there. The stories of both my Grandma Perry and Jackie are many. I’m not going to lie and say I’m “Sad” that Jackie has passed away but I am sad that I never really got to know him. I never wanted anything from him, never needed anything but love of a Grandpa. I was lucky enough to have my father’s dad who had his own hiccups and issues in life but as children, we never saw the other side. He was just my grandpa and I loved him and miss him.

My mother has 2 half brothers, a half-sister, a half-sister who had no interest in knowing Jackie and a son whose claim to fame was he didn’t belong to Jackie. One may never know the truth. If any distant family, who I have no relationship with, happen to read this…please take no offense. It’s all I know. There are bad stories and good stories and I think I have told truths and no lies. I have been gentle when I could scream and yell a battle my Mother never fought.

He could’ve had class….he coulda been a contender. But that’s all it is..a coulda, woulda, shoulda of could have beens but never was. I was forwarded a letter today about his passing and what a wonderful, devoted person he was. I wouldn’t have known….

My grandfather playing with Tommy and Jimmy Dorsey (He’s the drummer):

Jackie, My Mom, and David (mom’s half-brother)

Jackie Mills, you were a wonder; A wonder on the drums, a wonder to your close family and a wonder of my imagination. R.I.P.

ADD: I found a very recent interview with Jackie. Makes me sad that he was never able to share such stories with me or my sister.

http://www.namm.org/library/oral-history/jackie-mills

The Olympics, Our Flag, Our Anthem, Where’s the Love?

The Olympics. The greatest sports event on earth and we are only blessed with seeing our Champions every 4 years. When the Olympics are on, I never want them to end and when they are over, I’m sad I have to wait 2 more years to see another round of great Olympians.

I have not missed one aired event. Whether it’s DVR’d and I race through the commercials trying to watch it all before Prime Time starts, or I stay up into the pre-witching hour, depriving myself of much needed sleep…I am all eyes. I cheer as if I were there, I coach as if I know what I’m talking about and I encourage as if they could hear me. The greatest moment of all? Watching the time clock and seeing USA in the green. I yell, I scream, I chant “U.S.A.” as I run around my kitchen and back to the living room. Irena Cara sang it best…”What a feeling!” They win the Gold, Silver or Bronze and without realizing it, won the hearts of many Americans who feel like our little cheers helped them push it to the edge.

The last two days have been like Madrid’s Bull Run in our house. You won’t be hearing too many “Ole’s” but there is definitely lot’s of cheering, flag waving and downright maniacal romping. If my house weren’t so young, I’d be worried about its structure.

It started with watching Seth Wescott mouthing the National Anthem while bearing his Gold. He was smiling, our National Anthem sinking in to his victory.  He deserved it, his Snowboard Cross was awesome. I love watching them win, but I love hearing our National Anthem just as much. Whether they sing, carry their hand over their heart or just stare at the flag, eyes glistening with tears, pride and the reality of what they have accomplished; It’s amazing.   Lindsay Vonn teared up which made anyone watching at least think about tearing up. Then there was the Infamous Shaun White. Just saying his name takes my breath away. He is, the MASTER of the Halfpipe. If anyone walked by the house two nights ago, they might have thought about calling the police because the Roars were in waves! I can’t say it any better than the commentator did that night…..as Shaun ends his final run with his Spiraling Double McTwist 1260, the commentator squeals…”There it issssssssss”. First, freaking hilarious how excited everyone was, but second, he proved he didn’t just win Gold, he is Gold. And so last night we watch him accept his medal, showing off his pearly whites, he’s so excited he begins air-guitaring to our Anthem and at the end…an air-drum solo. So Cute.

My point?  Shani Davis,  who won his consecutive gold medal in the 1000m speed skating event. It was fast, it had me on the edge of my seat and when he passed the finish line…I had my hands in the air doing a one-woman wave. So last night I’m excited to watch his Medal Ceremony only to be disappointed and left questioning what it is I just watched.  I wrote it off, for I was about to watch Evan be the first reigning World Champion of Figure skating bring home a gold since Scott Hamilton.

This morning I call my mom to discuss and make sure we each had watched the Olympics last night. One of us will ask if we watched and the other will answer, Of Course I did”. I find conversations like this funny because we both know we wouldn’t miss this for the world! Nevertheless, mom says to me, “I want to talk to you about something because I think you need to write about it.” As soon as she said this…that small little memory that I thought I had repressed  started swimming back down into my conscience and I knew exactly what she was going to say. “Did you see Shani Davis last night? What the hell is a matter with him?” Ahhh mom,  mom, mom…I was having such good thoughts of our wins and I thought it was just me being absurd…but no, this proves it! I wasn’t the only one who felt that Shani Davis looked very uninterested in our Anthem. In fact, he didn’t look at his flag once. No hand over the heart, no mouthing the words, nothing, nada, zilch! So I have to ask myself, What the Eff Shani? You have accomplished great things in a Country that isn’t always so great but is definitely the best place in the world…Where’s the love?  Strange is the only word that comes to mind. I don’t get it, I didn’t get it and I thought to myself last night, “Maybe he’s just caught up in the moment? But this ain’t his first rodeo. He’s won before…. I know he lost a close friend recently and maybe he was saying a little prayer or talking to him; that’s what I want to think but I’m just not so sure. If you recall, when our Anthem had ended, he looked around and then seemed confused about whether to get down or where to go. He just seemed, detached?

Sigh. Well, I will not let it take away my own momentum. I’m on a USA high right now and am so very proud to be in a land that strives for such dedication. By the way, signed my son up for swim lessons. His name is Elias and he’s 5. In 11 years, he will be the next Michael Phelps and he will have his hand on his heart when he wins all his Gold Medals…otherwise Mama will spank him in front of the whole world.

 

GO USA.

Fighting Villains, One Dream at a Time.

Dear Superhero,

I wanted to be close to you

Beyond the world of words and real things

I wanted to be close to you

In your dreams

Sleep with me.

They said that we’d meet in a dream

Touch, we closed our eyes

And then we departed

Through space and time

Quiet times I think of you

Then I hear you shout

You’re outside my window

At last you came.

I wanted to be close to you

Beyond the world of words and real things

I wanted to be close to you

In your Dreams

Sleep with me.

I’ve woke into your dreaming tears

And when you awake

You seem a bit further, from me in the day

Dream in close proximity

Stay with me

I think I once saw you and you saw me.

I wanted to be close to you

Beyond the world of words and real things

I wanted to be close to you

In your dreams

Sleep with me.

Did it really happen, did it not.

Did it really happen, did it not.

Did it really happen, did it not.

Did it really happen, did it not.

I wanted to be close to you

Beyond the world of words and real things

I wanted to be close to you

In your dreams.

Amorously,

Wonder Woman.

—————-

Spiral System

Album: In your Dreams

Song : In your Dreams

(You can play via box.net widget/right side)

Bullet Proof Heart

Let me introduce Ballistic Rose……

Designer: Tobias Wong (sadly, his site hasn’t been updated in 846 Days!)

Found via Generate.com The Ballistic Rose is :

Made of black heavy-weight ballistic grade nylon, this “bulletproof” bloom will protect your heart and love in times of conflict.

I guess we all need a little heart protection. I wonder if he designs anything for confusing heart matters?

Yelling on Mother’s Day

I’m tired, my eyes are still burning, I’m grumpy and I could really use a cup of coffee.

But that will have to wait.

First, I need to pick up all the toys strewn about because I just stepped on one and now I’m pissed. My foot hurts and I really want to sit down and rub it but the madness of a mother is unstoppable, “Clean up these toys Right now! In your room…Pick them up and put them in your room!”

Happy Mother’s Day to me.

The man of the house is asleep due to the graveyard shift. So it’s just another day.

Changing diapers, preparing oatmeal. I’m too tired to spoil myself with some eggs, sausage and country potatos. Mmm..that does sound good though, doesn’t it?

My son, who is three, woke up 3 hours after I laid him down for the night. He fell back asleep 3 and a 1/2 hours later. It’s rare..but it happens. So I think I’m working on 4 hours of sleep, I really have no idea.

This is what Mother’s Day is all about right? My son has no idea that it’s Mother’s Day. In Fact, he probably wouldn’t be acting like such a little gargoyle if he new this was my day…or would he? 🙂

When you are young, you have no idea the job of your Mother. Of Course they curse us while they have us in their clutches. The curse is forgotten until we have our own children, who turn out to be as develish as we were.

That’s the whole Point. If we didn’t have children of our own, it’d be hard to understand what our Mother went thru.

If you don’t have children…You’ll understand what I’m talking about when you do. I can’t explain it any better.

For me, as a mother, Mother’s Day reminds me how lucky I am to have my little “munchyhead”. Even though at times, I think the madhouse would be more inviting then my own, it’s the moments when he kisses me or asks for a hug…or when he’s sleeping peacefully and looks angelic; Deceiving but adorable :), when he giggles uncontrollably and all the little things inbetween.

mothersday.jpg