The Start

Three years, nine months after the announcement, three years five months after the departure, one week after receiving the gold seal, I begin to write. And I had to change that because I started to write TWO years, where did I lose that year? Or have I lost all four years?

I'm not sure I should go backwards, start from the beginning, or start today. Ok, today it is.

I sit in my kitchen, wallpaper ripped off the wall with notes in ink, pencil and marker ranging from "Way to go Nick! 3rd place Winner" (it came with the house), to various autographs, "Just Do it!" from me to Taylor (18), "Mothers of teenagers know why some animals eat their young," (did that one myself a few months ago) and most curious to me because it's written in disguised squared letters, "Better to be hated than loved loved loved for what you're not."

I need to investigate that one. As a mother I feel compelled to find out which of my children feels hated for what he/she is.

It's on the list.

So is making blondies for Taylor (chocolate causes migraines), Symphony brownies for Caroline (partly to make up for the last batch she made and I, ahem, contributed to my waistline with), as well as gathering the Easter baskets (have we used them since the move?) for tomorrow's 'visit' for the evening meal, as stated in the custody ORDER as I am so often reminded (it's not an AGREEMENT, it's YOUR CUSTODY ORDER.)

I named this blog Resurrection After Divorce because my pastor told me to "Believe in the power of the resurrection" when I was crumbling in those early days.

I've spent the last three years writing. Writing to vent, writing to 'wrap my brain around' the insanity of a divorce, writing to God to be rescued, writing to a man in an effort to be rescued, and writing to friends and loved ones just trying to understand how my life can be what it is.

What exactly IS my life anyway? I have a thousand blessings to count, and lately that is my practice, to force my eyes to view them instead of the sometimes frazzling thoughts that stir in my head, and yes, you did read that right, almost four years since I laid next to my husband, my body facing his back, as he told me he was leaving me.

So today, or maybe tomorrow, since it IS Easter after all, I am choosing to believe in the power of the resurrection.