ONE YEAR LATER

I can’t believe it’s been a year. And what a year it’s been! One year ago this week I wrapped up the last of the messy details of my divorce, and saw my ex for the last time. After 17 years together, I never thought it would end, let alone that it would end like that. I used to wonder how people that had been so in love could have such a horrible relationship after a divorce – I don’t wonder anymore. I understand. Sadly, I understand.

And a year ago I was incredibly sad and hurt, as anyone would be. I didn’t understand it then, but there is a grieving process. Not just for the loss of the relationship, but for the loss of Hope – the hope that things would get better, that it would all be worth it, that we could get through anything. But sometimes saying goodbye is the right answer; and for me it was the only answer.

I was sad. And I let myself be sad (although I tried to not show it much). But I also faced the realization that my whole future had just changed – and I had no idea in which direction to head. So I thought about it, prayed about it, wrote in my journal constantly – and came up with at least the first steps of a plan for my new life. And then I let go of the sad.

Some people think I was just faking “Being All Better” – well, of course I was! But I also came to the conclusion that if I had felt any doubt about the divorce I wouldn’t have gone through with it. But I knew it was the right answer, the only answer – and I trusted that, so “Being All Better” was really the only choice.

Not that it’s been easy! Living alone after nearly constant companionship for 17 years is a HUGE adjustment. (And getting another dog did NOT fill the void.) Having to take care of the whole (way too big) house has been daunting. There are a million little details I never had to deal with that are now on my plate. And ending up with all of the bills and financial responsibility (although TOTALLY worth it for the divorce to get finalized) has required excruciating belt-tightening.

Yes, I’m a year older – but certainly a year wiser too. Or maybe a lifetime wiser. It’s weird to think it’s been a year. In some ways it seems like just moments ago. Yet in some ways – especially as I see all the ways I’ve grown and learned – it seems like a lifetime ago. And maybe it is. This past year has been a journey into my new life, and I’m happy with who I am now and where I’m going.

This is MY life! Yes, I make mistakes – but they're all mine to make. Not that my marriage was all bad, but there are certainly things I blamed him for. And I can't blame him anymore. I have this quote on my wall, and I'm working on having this new phase of my life be everything I want to be.

Valentine's Day

When I was a kid I loved Valentine’s Day. I remember my dad always buying my mom a Valentine Card (a really nice one from Hallmark) and a big heart-shaped box of chocolates. I never doubted that my dad loved my mom whole-heartedly and completely, just as she loved him. They had been friends since they were little – going through elementary school together, skipping 7^th grade together, and getting married at only 19. They had been married 63 years when she passed away – and he missed her EVERY SINGLE DAY for the next 5 years until he joined her. They literally spent their whole lives together – and especially on Valentine’s Day, they did a great job showing their love to each other.

And it wasn’t just my mom that got special treatment on Valentine’s, because Dad always bought me a cute card and my own little heart-shaped box of chocolates too.  It was the kid-version, but since I was a kid, it was PERFECT. Not only did I know that my parents loved each other completely, but I never once doubted my father’s love for me too.

Even though I may not have a “Special Someone” in my life this year, as I see all those heart-shaped boxes of chocolate lining the store shelves – I smile. I smile because I have been blessed with great love in my life. I smile because of the great memories those boxes conjure up. I smile because I know that love is much more than just a romantic notion but something that touches and enlarges your heart. I smile because I still believe that I can have a love like that my parents shared.

Some people don’t appreciate Valentine’s Day, but even single, I still do. And one day I’m hoping that I’ll again have a wonderful, loving man in my life that will buy me my very own heart-shaped box of chocolates.

Favorite Pens

Everyone has one – one of those pens that makes your handwriting look good and just feels so natural in your hand. I love pens like that!  A number of years ago I got a beautiful Pen Box for displaying my pens.  It has a glass top so that all of my favorite pens can be seen, but not touched.  When I moved the box got put away, because my ex could never find a pen and would just grab one of my favorite pens – and then IT would disappear.  So my Pen Box has been sitting in its own box, tucked away in storage.

This weekend when I cleaning out a few boxes, I came upon this Pen Box.  It was like being reunited with an old friend!  My heart leapt a little, and I stopped everything that I was doing and carried the box to a place of honor in my Living Room.

And this Pen Box contains more than pens – it contains memories.  The pen Marg & Lee (my Mormon Godparents) gave me for High School Graduation.  The pen my boss at Franklin Covey gave me as a gift for writing a proposal that landed a $2 million contract.  A pen that belonged to my dad when he was the age I am now.  The pen I splurged on in Denver on vacation just because it felt so good in my hand.

I ran upstairs to grab some paper and sat down to write.  A few of the pens need new refills, but there is just something so grand about a GOOD pen.  I felt that with that pen in my hand I needed to write something important.  I felt like I could have written the Declaration of Independence with this accumulation of strength from these pens.

And that’s so true – there is strength in pens.  And not just in a Mont Blanc.  But the strength comes from what pens can do.  With a pen in hand: you can teach a child to write, you can witness a marriage, you can profess your love to someone, you can write a poem, you can sign a divorce decree, you can write your Last Will & Testiment.

Next time you’re out, splurge a little a buy a nice pen – and then let it do what pens should do.  Pen in hand, pen to paper – write something from your heart, and then share it with the world.

 

"The pen is mightier than the sword -- and considerably easier to write with." -- Marty Feldman

 

Grab a Tissue -- and read THIS story with your family on Christmas Eve

Maybe I'm hypersensitive because my sister adopted 3 Russian Orphans, and they have shared their stories with me too. I remember their first Christmas and those eyes filled with wonder. This is definitely my favorite new Christmas story this year, and it's just too beautiful to not share.

In 1994, two Americans answered an invitation from the Russian Dept. of Education to teach morals and ethics (based on Biblical principles) in the public schools. They were invited to teach at prisons, businesses, the fire and police departments, and a large orphanage. About 100 boys and girls who had been abandoned, abused, and left in the care of a government-run program were in the orphanage. The two Americans related the following story in their own words:

It was nearing the holiday season in 1994 and was time for our orphans to hear, for the first time, the traditional story of Christmas. We told them about Mary and Joseph arriving in Bethlehem. Finding no room in the inn, the couple went to a stable, where the baby Jesus was born and placed in a manger.
   Throughout the story, the children and orphanage staff sat in amazement as they listened. Some sat on the edges of their stools, trying to grasp every word. Completing the story, we gave the children three small pieces of cardboard to make a crude manger.
   Each child was given a small paper square, cut from yellow napkins I had brought with me. (No colored paper was available in the city.) Following instructions, the children tore the paper and carefully laid strips in the manger for straw.
   Small squares of flannel, cut from a worn-out nightgown an American lady was throwing away as she left Russia, were used for the baby’s blanket.
   A doll like baby was cut from tan felt we had brought from the United States.
   The orphans were busy assembling their mangers as I walked among them to see if they needed any help. All went well until I got to one table where little Misha sat—he looked to be about six years old and had finished his project. As I looked at the little boy’s manger, I was startled to see not one, but two babies in the manger.
   Quickly, I called for the translator to ask the lad why there were two babies in the manger. Crossing his arms in front of them and looking at this completed manger scene, the child began to repeat the story very seriously. For such a young boy, who had only heard the Christmas story once, he related the happenings accurately—until he came to the part where Mary put the baby Jesus in the manger.
   Then Misha started to ad-lib. He made up his own ending to the story as he said, “And when Maria laid the baby in the manger, Jesus looked at me and asked me if I had a place to stay. I told him I have no mama and I have no papa, so I don’t have any place to stay. Then Jesus told me I could stay with him. But I told Him I couldn’t, because I didn’t have a gift to give him like everybody else did.
   “But I wanted to stay with Jesus so much, so I thought about what I had that maybe I could use for a gift. I thought maybe if I kept him warm, that would be a good gift. So I asked Jesus, ‘If I keep you warm, will that be a good enough gift?’ And Jesus told me, ‘If you keep me warm, that will be the best gift anybody ever gave me.’ So I got into the manger, and then Jesus looked at me and he told me I could stay with him for always.”
   As little Misha finished his story, he eyes brimmed full of tears that splashed down his little cheeks. Putting his hand over his face, his head dropped to the table and his shoulders shook as he sobbed and sobbed.
   The little orphan had found someone who would never abandon nor abuse him, someone who would stay with him FOR ALWAYS.
   -- (author unknown)

May The Best Man Win

I’m excited for the chance to get out and vote tomorrow. I’m grateful for the freedom that I have to choose the leader of the country that in which I am blessed to live.

   And I am grateful that I get to vote for a man of integrity. I trust him. I believe that he is doing his very best for this great country of ours. And I believe that when he speaks he is being completely honest with us.

   He is a good family man, with good morals. He has an amazing wife standing at his side, who not only loves him completely but has much to offer this country in her own right. And his children are proud of him, not only for his public persona but for being a good dad to them.

   It doesn’t matter whether I vote Republican or Democrat – this is true for either candidate. And more than any election that I can recall, despite the mudslinging ads, none of them have attacked either candidates’ integrity – because both are men have more integrity than we have seen in decades.

   I hope the best man wins. And I’m sure he will. And because our choice is between two good men, no matter which one wins – we all win.

A lot to be Grateful for

A few months ago, when my life started falling apart, I was having an especially rough evening. My ex-husband had just moved out and at the end of the day the big house seemed so much bigger and far, far too quiet – and it was all catching up to me. And I was feeling sorry for myself, justified maybe, but it started really getting me down. So instead of just seeing how my life was falling apart, I grabbed a notebook and turned to a blank page and decided that I would just write down 10 Things in my life that I was grateful for. When your life is spiraling out of control that can be a bigger challenge than you’d imagine.

It took a few minutes, but when I was done I felt better. I had been so focused on all of my problems that I had overlooked the really amazing blessings that I have in my life. For the next few nights, that same feeling of gloom caught up with me especially at bedtime, so each night I would grab that notebook and add “Just 10 More Things” to that list.

It became such a healthy way to end each day that night after night I continued to add “Just 10 More Things” to the list. Last night I wrote my #2000 in the notebook (Volume 2, because I filled Vol 1 in January). Today I took a few minutes and looked over the list. I have an awful lot of things for which to be grateful. And most of the things on the list are people, the amazing people in my life – the people who unknowingly stepped into my life as an answer to a prayer at just the right moment. And for that I am grateful.

The truth of it is that most of the answers to my prayers have been delivered by people. The friend that called and invited me to lunch, just when I was praying for someone to help me with a big decision. The neighbor that just happened to be outside right at the moment when I was praying for a chat. The ward member who spontaneously invited me to dinner when I was dreading having to go home to eat a TV dinner one more Sunday.

It may sound trite to say that you can be an instrument in God’s hands, but from my experience this is absolutely true. I am so grateful for the amazing people in my life who say or do just the right thing at just the right moment and turn things around for me. Sometimes, maybe even usually, it may seem like a small thing – but those small things sure felt HUGE at the time. And for that I am grateful.

QUOTE FOR TODAY: “Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow.”

Change is Hard

This past week there was an addition to the family. Pippa, a 2-year-old Shih Tzu, has come to live with us. Sierra, my incredibly spoiled 5-year-old Shih Tzu, has been less than thrilled about this change.

Poor Pippa is very confused by the whole thing -- a new house, and she can't find her brother Rhino anywhere. And apparently Pippa is a stress-eater (like me) because she is downing 2 full bowls of dog food every day. Unfortunately these empty dog bowls are only compounding Sierra's stress.

Sierra hasn't ever really been around other dogs at all, so that one has "invaded" her house is terribly upsetting. And that Pippa ("The Intruder") has the nerve to want to PLAY with Sierra is only adding insult to injury.

Yesterday I took them both with me as I went running errands. Sierra always loves a ride in the truck, and Pippa was almost as excited -- at least at the beginning. When I got to the bank and left BOTH dogs in the car Sierra had quite the look of terror as I trapped her in the truck with "The Intruder." Although I was only gone a few minutes, the greeting I received upon my return was that of a year-long journey. Well, at least I felt loved and wanted.

Now that a few days of co-habitating has passed, I'm letting them both have free run of the house all day. Sequestering only happens when I'm afraid that Pippa is going to ralph up all that dog food on my bed. Puppy Puke is just not conducive with a good night's sleep.

With all of the changes in my life lately, I can understand how they feel. Circumstances beyond your control can turn your whole world upside down -- and you just have to figure out how to deal with the change. And just like I was so blessed to have amazing people around me to help me through, I am trying to be there and do special things for the puppies at their time of strife.

Change is hard -- for people and for dogs. But I know that I am stronger for the changes in my life, and I can only hope for the same for the dogs.