Sunday Morning Ten Miler

disrance run female

Miles 1 &2: done at a trot up and over the long grades of the road

Mile 3: a cold spring wind comes from the North

Bracing and refreshing in the high morning sun

Miles 4 & 5: running over the rolling rises

Passing windswept ponds and majestic pines and oaks

Mile 6: the relief of the flats

Daffodils in various stages of bloom

Mile 7: the railroad tracks

Then another climb with a view of the Vale-

The mills, river and the old manse

Moving by the boys’ old elementary school

Deserted on this seventh morn

Mile 8: Charlotte Drive

Legs carrying me along the curves and wetlands

Ready for another hill

I lean in, reaching its crest with a whoop of relief

Then it’s down the rattlesnake road

Winding and quick to the waterfall

Mile 9: one last ascension

A half-mile long

Feet dragging, legs aching

I force myself to pick up speed

Mile 10: home is in sight

The finish draws near

A hot shower awaits me

to settle my beaten body

I let the steaming water

stream over my head

My skin is red from the heat as my muscles relax

I have eased my mind and I am at peace

Morning Repose

spring rain

She slept with the window open by her bed

The rain moved in overnight

Breathing in the soothing smell of its spring dampness

It rested her weary mind and body

She allowed for more sleep and a slower movement toward her day

Coffee in bed

A love letter to her fiancé

Listening

The patter of rain outside

The birds rising and singing

The streets deathly still

A lone train whistling in the distance

Relishing

 the tranquility

 the harmony

the hush

of a brand new day

Baggage Claim

baggage claim

I have been draggin’ around your sensitive ego
Making sure that your bags arrive on time for the dog and pony show
A little suitcase like a brick,
It kinda makes it hard to get a good grip
I drop your troubles off at the conveyor belt,
I’ll hand you a ticket to go get it yourself

At the baggage claim, you got a lot of luggage in your name
When you hit the ground, check the lost and found
Cause it ain’t my problem now
I can’t carry it on, I’ve got a lot of troubles on my own
It’s all over the yard, in the trunk of the car,
I’m packin’ it in, so come and get it.                    ~ Miranda Lambert

For years, I did not realize that my life was a wreck. I was living a lie and was clueless about it. I spent most of my marriage working at keeping it together. Trying to make my man happy. In the process, I was losing myself. When he told me he wanted a divorce, I was of course, devastated.  But quickly, I realized that I did not miss him.  I took a look around the house and noticed that much of the stuff that took up space in my 1200 square foot home belonged to him.  Then I looked in my two car garage and realized the same thing. One more trip to the back of the garage and guess what? More crap! It was extremely difficult to move anywhere on my property without the constant reminders of him.

It took nearly two years and a court order from the time he left for him take away his items. Some things, I simply threw out. He refused to get rid of old lawn mowers and other large pieces so  they made their journey to the end of driveway. With each toss,  I felt more free and my house looked cleaner.  But it takes more than throwing away physical reminders of someone to really rid yourself of pain.

First, I had to admit that I was abused.  Verbal and emotional abuse is a challenge to see or to understand because words and psychological  mind games don’t leave obvious bruises.  Coming to grips with this fact was a huge hurdle that I had to overcome. How could I-an educated intelligent woman not notice or even allow it to happen? I needed to forgive myself first before I could even entertain the idea that I could forgive him.  I would say that peeling back these layers was excruciating. Therapy helps!

During this time (after the divorce was final), I fell in love with the man who is now my fiance’. Through him, I learned to trust and to also stand up for my needs without fear of  negative consequences.  I learned that I was a worthy, lovable woman. This was especially freeing.  I became more and more myself and our relationship grew closer and stronger.

Simultaneously, my former husband continued to act out. He refused to comply with the agreement in any way.  I spent the better part of 4 years  and a significant amount of money advocating for my son’s college education and assuring that both my sons had shelter- among other things.  With each battle, I became less and less emotionally involved. I was beginning to be less of a victim and more of a leader of my own life.  For the most part, it worked. I knew I was doing the right thing for my boys as well as myself.

My oldest is set to graduate from college in a month. My ties to my former husband will continue to be severed. On Easter weekend, I took four boxes of my former life ( all the divorce papers that are no longer needed) to the bonfire. Slowly, each piece was set aflame and turned into ashes. It took longer than expected to burn it all up. In my mind, I knew that it was the way it was supposed to be. Years of pain can take a long time to unfold and transform into something beautiful.

*Special thanks to Kellie Elmore for the inspiration for today’s entry http://kellieelmore.com/2013/04/19/fwf-free-write-friday-baggage-claim/

Hearth, Home & Hope

hearth and home

The colors have been tendered

 Giving birth to emotional well-being

    A sense of balance

    A return to normalcy

The ugliness has been purged

  with the stroke of each brush

  and the spinning of each roller

Tonight her aching muscles

  and paint spotted hands

  will rest well

Awakening at dawn

to a home that she has recreated

Renewal

renewal

White washed walls

Scrubbed so the surface is smooth

Removing the stains of mistakes and neglect

Primed for new colors of warmth and care

Door jams set straight after life went askew

Trimmed in a high gloss white

Shining in pride and joy

Floors buffed to a glowing earthen shade

Ready to grow roots for a new life

A dwelling of devotion

A retreat for rest

A place of peace

Home Renovation Blues

home renovation

Remove the switch plates and doors

Rearrange the furniture, cover the TV

Spackle the holes

Sand the ceiling

Blue Tape the edges

Prime the trim (two coats will do)

Now it is time for the painting to begin:

Three cans for the ceiling

Two for the trim

Two for the hall

Two more for the one we like to live in

Wow what a fortune!

I hope I like the colors…

cuz this project

is killing my almighty dollar!

Warp Speed

warp speed

I’ve been aware of the time going by

they say in the end it’s the blink of an eye~ Jackson Browne (The Pretender)

I have lived in the same town for twenty-four years now. I still find it hard to fathom that so much time has passed and that my sons are no longer little boys.  I do not long for those days; although I did enjoy them. I appreciate the challenges and intensity of raising my sons. The days zoomed by and I was never once bored when I was home full-time. At times, I would hear other parents say that they could not wait until their kids were grown. I was quite puzzled and even dismayed at their train of thought. Why were they rushing time?

Now that my sons are young men, I appreciate the time that I spent with them (as do they).  But most importantly, I am so very grateful for the time that we spend together now. So much is happening in our lives presently. Each of us is on the cusp of new beginnings and I feel as if we are in the midst of sharing one another’ s nearly constant curves in the road. My oldest is graduating college in just over 4 weeks and will be making his way into the real world-although for all intents and purposes he really has had about one and half feet in it for many years.

The shift from childhood and adolescence to the responsibilities of adulthood was swift. When a father departs, life has a way of knocking a young man off track  and swiftly into manhood.  Because his father was never truly present, my oldest made his way into maturity through fits and starts and a few mistakes and bad choices (though none were life-threatening).  In a few respects, it is obvious that there is a some sort of gap in his growth toward manhood. After all, his dad left when he was 14-prime time for a boy to know how to become a man. But in the last two years, I have seen a growth spurt of sorts within him. Much of it is due to him making peace with who is father is and his limitations. The other is a willingness to be the best man he can possibly be. Today I see him as a rocket ready to be launched. Watch out world: he is ready to fly!

For my youngest, his journey was, is and will be different. He experienced his father on more of a first hand basis as a teenager. This helped my youngest truly understand the kind of person his father is without any of my input, perspective or bias. At times (who am I kidding-all the time!), I worried about what he was seeing under his father’s roof. But I learned that  letting go was the quickest and healthiest way for my son to reach his own conclusions. He returned home eventually-disappointed and broken hearted.  He’s got his power and confidence back; each day I have seen him grow by leaps and bounds as he makes his way in his chosen career and into the great wide and scary world.

As for me, I have finally grown into the woman I have always been. I am at peace with my place on this earth- creative, athletic, joyful and madly in love with the man that I dreamed of finding someday.  Like my sons, I am ready to be launched and I am making my way in this world on my own terms.

So here we are the three of us, riding this crazy train of change and growth. We are moving quickly but our focus is unwavering. The ride is at once nerve racking and exhilarating and we love every minute of it!

Post-Run Appetite

post run appetite

Though my run is done

My appetite has just begun

My stomach feels hollow

I can’t wait to have a big swallow

of eggs, bagel and a soy latte’

My mouth is ready for a parte’*

Oh, it tastes so good

to be eating what I should

The food is a fuel

a righteous yummy  tool

that keeps my cheeks bright

my legs strong and tight

my eyes wide and clear

so I can train with no fear

 

*said with a Boston accent