Monday, September 24, 2012

It took me a long time to realize that the anger is not anger. At least not in you. Anger, it seems, for you is a way to say "look at me, take me by the hand, tell me I am still valuable to you even in my weakened state. Tell me some way you can love this battered shell of a man that I have become."


When I see that. I can take your hand. I can hold you. I can.

how did I go on?

The question was asked of me.  How do I go on.  I reread the posts and once again relive the pain and despair of a spouse with a chronic illness.
Things are so much better now.
We are so passed the tenuous - is this marriage even going to survive?
We survived and we will continue to do so.

And life is good now.

But why?

He didn't get better.
Life didn't get easier.

Is it because I found my worth?
Is it because I found his?
Is it because my Father in Heaven held us together when we were trying to push ourselves apart?

I love my husband.
He is my very best friend.

It took a looooonnnng time to find that out.

Saturday, October 1, 2011

You say it's time for us to part ways.
You say alll we do is argue.
You say we don't even like each other anymore.

the really scary thing
is not that you touted these things
(which by the way are ALL untrue)

nor is it that you seem so
easily able to cast me aside

the really scary thing is that

it didn't even hurt.


Is my heart so encased in scar tissue
and concrete barriers I have built
that I no longer feel the pain?

And

if I no longer feel the pain -
can i even still feel love?

But I can and do feel love.
So

I choose to believe that once again
depression has reared it's ugliness.
or
you are off your meds
or
your self worth has plummeted again.

And we will go on.

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

I held your hand and
we walked in the snow
(not too far)
and looked at the moonshadows
of the pines.
We relished in the brightness
of the night,
the coldness touching our noses and cheeks,
the glittering of the ice crystals on the snow,
and the quiet pleasure of
each other.
I want for this to last
but
at least
I can hold it in my heart
and pull it out
for wistful pleasure
like an old photograph.

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Sometimes . . . we are happy. Sometimes there is sweetness like strawberry juice lingering on our lips. Sometimes we share and laugh. Sometimes we want the same things and are able to work together to achieve them.

Sometimes, late at night, after the passion, I want to lie with you and relish all that is sweet and lingering and harmonious between us. I want it to keep humming in the air around us - just for a little while.

I want to let go of all that has come before and be together just like this.

sometimes.

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

Maybe we should hold a funeral.

For the you who used to be

and the me that used to be.

We could dig a hole and toss in
what we've lost
what we grieve over
what we will never have.

and bury it

deep.

And then we could hold hands

place flowers on the past

and start again
I was so hurt and angry. Beyond hurt. Devastated. Crushed. The fragile shell, with which I had carefully walled off my heart, was decimated into a crushing smoking pile of rubble. Leaving it bleeding and tenuously beating.

I was in such torment that.....

I couldn't see your pain. Your agony.

I realized that if: anger = pain for me, the equation holds true for you.

or is it that pain is easier to deal with if it is transferred into an anger form.

either way. You have been excruciating for a long time. And....

I never once

noticed.


I can get out the bandages and mortar and once again wall up my damaged heart

but you

is there any healing for you?

or does the agony - for you -

go on

and on

and on.