It’s all he ever wanted, it’s why he built this house, and this was one of the “firsts” in her life he was looking forward to the most … the very first picture of her all decked out in formal attire on the staircase he built for these moments. I know he was smiling as he watched this entire weekend as she reveled in her Freshman Year homecoming festivities. My heart is full as I memorialize this milestone in tribute to the many “wishes and dreams” he had for her!
Did I miss him tonight? Of course, I did! Did I cry? Nope. I couldn’t. I was just so happy to finally see her on those stairs living the dream that he designed for us. It would have broken his heart to see either of us crying, and especially taking “the picture”. So then, no tears. Only joy, and smiles, and an abundance of gratitude. Besides, he was here with us in all of this, just like he always is, and always will be!
I struggled as to whether or not I should bother to respond to this bullshit message, but have decided to let you know …
It is now clear that you know nothing about my heart, so I’ll fill you in on a not so little secret: I am an empath who absorbs other people’s feelings and burdens as my own, especially those who are close to me. As such, I have spent the entire last seven months of COVID worrying for my friends, family and strangers, feeling helpless that I can’t just ZAP everyone’s lives into blissful perfection. I have shed countless tears, prayed daily for others, and done everything in my power to be “a Light” in the darkness, DESPITE the fact that 427 days ago the love of my life blew his fucking brains out and DEVASTATED me and mine in unspeakable ways that most people don’t and will never know (but YOU do). I am now a widow who has also “struggled”, with not only COVID, but countless other thoughts, burdens and stresses that I wouldn’t wish upon anyone, all the while having still managed to at least TRY to think outside of myself and be thoughtful and mindful of others. I too have been near “a cliff”, and though it may not be as steep as yours, it is real just the same.
I was at a stop light when I saw your post and misinterpreted “your situation”. I’d honed in on the fact that you might have to sit in a 2-hour line to get a Chromebook for your son, which evidently was not the case. My first thought was about the like-new Chromebook that Gia had been trying to sell, so, I either texted or called you immediately. For the record, my intention was NEVER to sell it to you, and I apologize if that’s what you thought. Gia doesn’t need $100 and neither do I. My only thought at that moment was,“Oh no! A 2-hour line for a Chromebook? Maybe I could just bring her Gia’s.”ZERO was I “disregarding” either that situation or any situation you and yours have been dealing with as of late. I was JUST trying to help you be less stressed out.
Keep in mind that the weekend prior, I had made a gift bag to “ding dong ditch” your porch with on your birthday, but when I went to your page that day to write on your wall, I saw you on a getaway with your family and decided to hold off. Time passed and I had neither heard from or seen much of you on Facebook, so I tried to find out what was going on. I texted you two or three times. No response! I even thought about going to your house, but instead messaged your husband because I was worried that something was wrong. Then I got your text and realized that yet again (for the second time in 20 plus years) I’d, been, “GHOSTED”! And why is that? Because my well-intended message to you “kind of came across as disregarding your situation when you were already struggling”. Neither my words, thoughts or intended deeds were good enough and had to be punished!
When I got your text, I all but lost it and beat myself up pretty good! “OMG! What did I do? I hurt her feelings? Made her feel disregarded? What could I have done better? What could I have SAID better?” I felt like a terrible friend and awful person! Did you ever stop to consider that perhaps I did have good intentions and was just trying to help, but because I too am struggling, your assumption that I was “disregarding your situation” was WRONG? Short of that, could you have possibly shown some grace and cut me some slack for failing to regard “your situation” in the manner that you would have preferred? Yah, not so much!
Let me tell you about my “situation”. I had to actually run away to get my broken head, heart and feelings together after coming pretty damn close to falling off my own cliff! What you did to me was beyond unfair, if not cruel, and started cracking my heart in a brand new place. By the time my own birthday came and went and most of my “friends” forgot me, I think I was pretty much done … with all of this! I just survived an entire LIFETIME of walking on fucking eggshells in “relationship gauntlets” where the people I loved and trusted refused to extend grace for my MANY human failures and would punish me with silent treatments or “washing their hands of me”. The irony here is that ALL I’VE EVER WANTED is for“my people” to be happy, feel cared for, and NEVER have to wonder what they mean to me. The problem is that I’m not a mind reader, soooo … all I’ve ever been able to do is the best that I can do, which evidently isn’t good enough people like YOU!
I’m sorry I hurt your feelings and made you feel “disregarded”. If you knew me at all, you’d know that’s NOT how I roll. If this is “friendship”? No thanks, I’ll pass! And I especially don’t need “friends” who profess to be Christian followers of Jesus yet treat others this way. No grace? No compassion? NO THANK YOU! I’d rather be ALONE with my heart in the exact right place than “in the world” with people like you who could take me or fucking leave me. True friendships should neither be conditional nor contingent upon perfect behavior and impossibly high standards, up to and including “mind reading”. Walking on your eggshells doesn’t work for me anymore!
I was a damn good friend to you, and don’t you ever forget it! Or, DO. I don’t give a fuck! I did my very best to support all your endeavors and “situations” and have never been too busy to remember you, regardless of my struggles, and trust me, I’ve had some! I am fifty fucking ONE-derful years old now “friend”, and since you too forgot me on September 17th, I opened the candle I got when I didn’t forget you on August 8th and burned it for myself, alone, on my birthday! I deserve so much better than “I can take her or leave her”, or, “I’ll just punish her because she wasn’t clairvoyant enough to know the exact right thing to do for my situation.
So, with that, this is me … GHOSTING you! QUEENS DON’T TAKE SCRAPS FROM ANYONE! As a human being, I will always love you, but otherwise, you are DEAD to me!
It’s taken 421 days for me to finally wake up to the sobering reality of “widowed and alone“, and I think my heart has broken even more than it did on August 22, 2019.
Yesterday, I was very close to something that looked like the edge. I thought about checking myself into another, err, “spa” for a rest, but instead I’m opting to just run away for a while and salvage my inner “Warrior. Motivator. SURVIVOR ;” on the road.
It’s funny how this whole “widowed” thing has worked. After all was said and done, it was my, or should I say, our closest “friends” who’ve all but ghosted me. Farewell to every one of them and c’est la flipping vie! Lol! If, as I believe, Zack is really watching all of this, he has got to be even more heartbroken than I am.
Thanks for forgetting to remember my wife and kid!
The real surprise, however, is the people who have not, some who were once total strangers. It’s the “friends from afar”, both in years and in miles, who haven’t forgotten to remember me. You know who you are, and I thank you from the deepest and vulnerable places of my heart!
For the record, I have and will always forgive the people who’ve forsaken me. I mean, HELLO? Have you met me? I’ve had to forgive the devil himself for the harm he brought to me and mine. That being said, I will never forget those who have checked in on me and my kids, asked if they can help in any way, or at least tried to get me out of this house for a meal, a cup of coffee, or some fresh air. I especially won’t forget the very small handful of people who remembered the day I was born!
But c’mon Cat … it’s COVID! That’s why I’ve been too busy to remember you. We all have full plates and problems of our own.
Yada, yada, yada! Yes, it’s fucking COVID and we all have problems of our own. This pandemic has not only devastated humanity physically, emotionally, and spiritually, but even more so clarified exactly who and what people are. Some have come together in unity, but many have drifted the fuck apart. Guess what, people? Even in all my grief, and even in all my sorrow and anguish, I’ve forgotten NO ONE in this “great awakening“!
So, with that, as I move forward in my journey alone, some of you have forged a place so deep in the fabric of my being that there are literally not enough words to credit you. When you call on me, I will ALWAYS answer! When you need me, I will always be there! Morning. Noon. Or the wee hours of the fucking night.
As for all you “ghosts” who forgot that even the brightest Lights still need an energy source to plug into and even the strongest people still need support? I will see you, and I will smile, and I will make all the small talk and pleasantries. Still, don’t you forget that I will always remember who was mindful of me and mine when our cards went down. Someday, when it’s your turn to journey all alone, maybe you’ll understand how it has felt to be me. Actually? I wouldn’t wish this on ANYONE!
Wait! Do I sound a little bitter? Umm, yah, I think I kinda am! You know me though … always keepin’ it real … and as for now … JUST WAITING FOR THE END TO COME!
Earlier today, I was wandering through the castle in search of the Mona Lisa and her faithful companion, only to find them “perched at their perch” atop of the staircase he built just for her. She was playing a favorite old album she’d scored at a treasure shop near our home on the Victrola she bought with her own money … because that’s just how she rolls. She was belting Bohemian Rhapsody out loud, and he was just howling right along. Seeing the two of them like that actually took my breathe away, and after I snapped this pic, I quietly slipped back to my room for one of my famous “panic chair” moments.
If you’ve ever seen The Blind Side (one of my favorite movies ever), you know exactly what I’m talking about. It was that moment when she found out that Michael had never had a bed of his own and became flooded with emotions she didn’t want him to see. She went to her room, sat quietly in her chair, and just “allow” herself” to cry for a minute. For all her endless and stoic strength, even she realized the importance of allowing herself whatever self-care and space were necessary to enable her to take care of her family. The funny thing is that I didn’t even realize I was doing “this chair thing” until he began noticing that whenever I was “flooding” with emotions, I’d disappear into our room then reappear a few minutes later. One night when we were watching the movie for the umteenth time in our season together, he finally pointed it out:
You know, honey, you do that, too … the crying in your chair in private thing! Did you think I didn’t know that’s what you do when you run back into our room? You let yourself fall apart so you can keep it all together for us. It’s one of my favorite things about you. You remind me of Leigh Anne so much.
These days, that’s what I’ve become. Strong, soft, endlessly stoic, and a sponge of emotions at once. No matter the landslide of whatever it is I’m feeling at any given moment, be it good, bad, or indifferent, sometimes I just have to sit down, take a breath, and let myself feel all of it!
The good news is that on this particular day, the search for two of the only loves left in my life that led me to find them in singsong was, indeed, one of my trues rhapsodies. I have truly been struggling with Zack’s suicide as of late. It’s not so much about the fact that’s he’s never coming home again as its coming to the sobering realization that although I’m not “lonely” being alone now, I am feeling forsaken and abandoned by many of the people I once believed were friends. This seemingly insignificant moment of Light in the darkness I am trying hard not to drown in these days helped me set things back into a renewed perspective. For this, I’m thankful …
… because it’s easy come, easy go, little high, little low. Any way the wind blows … doesn’t really matter … AT ALL!
The time really has come to break the silence. Although, by this point one can clearly see that I have long been relentlessly breaking silences all the while.
Indeed, there are so many truths behind the rage, insanity, and abyss that devourednot only my beautiful husband, but so many countless others that have walked this Earth “abandoned“. He was a man without a “mother”. It gave him “life”, sentenced him to death, then walked the fuck away!
… because SOME words are just MEANT to be strung together!
In these seemingly dark times, the world we live in makes it so easy to resist looking FAR beyond this place and selves for all the means and methods of mortal survival we could possibly know. What do we need God for? We can do everything on our own, right?
Please let me be “this one”, even on my worst days EVER! Sanctified. That’s what I meant. Let me be sanctified. Okay, that’s all. Oh, and by the way, thank You … for EVERYTHING!
Did anyone survive? I swear I heard Your beyond this side. Does anyone still try? Does anyone still hope to set their eyes beyond this place where angels fall and darkness reigns … where time dissolves the brightest flame ever the same? Whether I’m the last one alive or ascend before my time, better I’m the last one alive than a soul denied. So, this is how we break? And this is where we find the only hope within this place where angels fall and darkness reigns … where time dissolves the brightest flame ever the same?
Never forget that the more you suffer in training, the greater will be your victory on this battlefield of life. This is where you’ll find the only hope within this place “where angels fall, and darkness reigns, and time dissolves the brightest flame“. But you see, you have to command your own destiny, my friends, with the MOST powerful weapon you possess … YOUR MIND! Don’t cower to the devil, or the masses, or yourself.
Meanwhile, make it a good and powerful day my friends, and punctuate your atmosphere wisely. God, Himself, knows that’s what I’m gonna do. Tomorrow isn’t promised, so don’t run spend those “86,400” flippantly. In the meantime, just keep your eyes on the prize and never forget what’s coming next! Your eternal soul is counting on you to Light your own way through the tunnel.
‘Twas a beautiful afternoon that found me happily amidst my “Saturday circle of errands”, when suddenly I spied something on the side of the road, which of course I had to circle back around to, because that’s just what I do …
Did you see them? Aren’t they beautiful? Meanwhile, if you listen closely, you can hear me saying …
God is so good … It’s these cosmic intersections with my Creation, and my Creator, and the Galaxy, and this planet we live on … that’s what keeps it real for me!
An hour later, I posted this on my Instagram with the following caption:
It seems that once again I’d quickly intercepted the message behind that moment:
How cool was it that I’d wrapped up that ‘lil juncture in my mind so fluidly, and even more so that I understood that moment to be far more than just “vultures doing vulture stuff“?
That being said …
Another hour later, I was watching the video before sending it to Gia, who of course was sure to be as fascinated by feathered friends as I was. That’s when I spotted THIS:
Umm, WOW!
A song I hadn’t heard since last I’d heard it “402 days ago”, found its way to my cue, thus releasing a bittersweet memory that had been buried underneath all the ashes that I had no idea I actually needed to remember …
It was the Saturday before he left, August 17, 2019. When he got home from work, we went for a bite and to see “Hobbs & Shaw”, which unbeknownst to me was our last date night ever. When we got home, there was a very special song I wanted him to hear, so we sat in the driveway and listened to it. Under the circumstances, and knowing what we both knew was happening in his mind, these words cut us deeply as we sat in the car holding hands in silent tears:
I will run alone tonight without you by my side. I guess you had a place you had to get to. I know your eyes. I know inside the walls you hide behind, and I saw the truth inside the real you. Because I know you’re lost when you run away into the same black holes and black mistakes. It’s taking all my will just to run alone. When are you coming home? Even if the sky does fall. Even if they take it all. There’s no pain that I won’t go through. Even if I have to die for you. And when all the fires burn. When everything is overturning. There’s no thing that I won’t go through. Even if I have to die for you. One day the earth will open wide, and I’ll follow you inside, ’cause the only hell I know is without you. Some day when galaxies collide, we’ll be lost on different skies. I will send my rocket ship to find you. Because I know you’re lost when you run away into the same black holes and black mistakes. Taking all my will just to run alone, until I bring you home. Even if the sky does fall. Even if they take it all. There’s no pain that I won’t go through. Even if I have to die for you. And when all the fires burn. When everything is overturning. There’s no thing that I won’t go through. Even if I have to die for you. And if the sun grows cold for you along the way. And if the stars don’t line to light the way. And when you fall away and crash back down below. I’ll search the skies for you, and I’ll follow. I’ll be in your afterglow, and I’ll bring you home. {Starset}
If only I’d known the irony in just how deeply “these words” were cutting us both, but from completely different places. There was a monster living in his mind that was eviscerating any and all traces of the man we once knew to be our rock … and he knew it! He was becoming darker as every passing second, and his inability to overcome it was steadily severing the very last chords that were tethering “the him he was” to this Earth. As I’ve shared before, his decision to put down the monster he’d been hiding behind the mask had already been made, only I didn’t know how close we were to the end. Knowing what I know now, I can’t help but wonder what he must have been thinking when he heard these words:
Even if the sky does fall. Even if they take it all. There’s no pain that I won’t go through. Even if I have to die for you. And when all the fires burn. When everything is overturning. There’s no thing that I won’t go through. Even if I have to die for you.
In the end? He did what he felt he had to do, as not only was he in excruciating “screaming inside his head” pain and turmoil, he didn’t want to hurt us anymore.
Now here I am, “Saturday, September 19, 2020”. What started out as two vultures on the side of the road, which then led me to remember that indeed I am a “strong, confident, badass bitch”, somehow also reminded me of that August night 402 days ago, that song, and that bittersweet “last”, all of which now led me to hear “these words” from a much-needed hindsight:
I must run alone tonight without you by my side. I know you had a place you had to get to. I knew your eyes. I knew inside the walls you hid behind, and I saw the truth inside the real you. Because I knew you were lost when you ran away into the same black holes and black mistakes. Now I’ll use my will just to run alone. You’re never coming home. Even though the sky did fall. Even if though they took it all. There’s no pain that He didn’t go through … you knew He had to die for you. And now that all the fires burned, and everything is overturned, there’s no more that you’ll have to go through … because He already died for you. One day the Earth it opened wide … I couldn’t follow you inside … and now the only hell I know is without you. Some day when galaxies collide, we’ll be lost on different skies. I will take my rocket ship to find you. And though the Sun grew cold for you along the way, and the stars didn’t line to light the way. And though you fell away and crashed back down below … I’ll search the skies for you … I’ll be in your afterglow until I get Home.
So, with that, I part with this: “On The 5th Day”, in a far away space and time, God said …
Let the waters swarm with swarms of living creatures, and let fowl fly above the Earth in the open firmament of Heaven.
As well on that day do I think He also said …
… and it’s these cosmic intersections with My Creation AND two magnificent vultures I shall create that she will need one day … not only to help her keep it real … but to help her keep on shining My Light.
I’m not sure if I’ve ever told you this before, but I’m God’s actual favorite daughter and a rising queen of the most magnanimous power and grace that there ever was or ever will be. I’m also absolutely NOTHING, which kinda makes me everything, and I’m the most blessed human woman that has ever walked this Earth.
No, just kidding. But seriously. Today is my birthday … “Fifty-ONE-Derful” years old! Indeed, I am “FIFTY-ONE-DERFUL”! With that, I want to share something special that happened in my cosmos in the last 24 hours, and as I’m writing this, I’ve got “Butterfly Kisses” playing in the background, and yes, I’m in tears …
It’s probably not much of a surprise to anyone that I either was, or wasn’t, depending on which moment you’d have asked, looking forward to celebrating myself this year. Although technically this is my second birthday without him, given the fact that at this time last year I was just 27 days post “YOU KNOW” and still being severely medicated to actual physical numbness, I am actually considering this to be my first true “birthday without him”.
Happy birthday, me! You’re now a WIDOW!
Truth being told, as I’ve powered down the road no one ever wants to walk and risen so far above all these ashes, there came a point this year when I was determined to CELEBRATE “Fifty-ONE-Derful” in an obnoxiously spectacular way! I’d even gone so far as to ASK for someone to throw me a party, which was so unlike me that there really are no words … except to say that if you know me at all, you know that I don’t like to celebrate my own birthday. In my mind, however, I more than deserved an obnoxious celebration, especially given the fact that my my big “FIVE-0” last year was anything but golden! Instead of standing before The Lion Of Lucerne during what was supposed to be the trip of a lifetime he had planned and paid for one full year in advance, I spent the vast majority of that day laying in bed alone just staring at the urn on my nightstand.
But you see, if there was just one thing you should know about my husband, it was that both of our birthdays, mine and Gia’s, were all but national holidays in our home. Not a year went by in the ten years we had him “healthy” that he didn’t pour every ounce of his heart, soul and whatever resources he had at to make sure that “his girls” were celebrated emphatically for all that we meant to his existence. Keep in mind that until he had “us”, no one really celebrated him on his birthday, and that, my friends, is one of the most painful, tragic truths that still haunts me to this day. That “thing” that gave birth to him didn’t even remember the day he was born.
Keep in mind that I am very much aware that under the circumstances, “birthdays” this year must have stunk for everyone … not just me. COVID-19 crashed all of our parties and celebrations. I was still a little bummed, though, if not downright sorry for myself as I was sulking in my room yesterday just staring at his urn:
Then, I closed my eyes and fell asleep praying to God that I could just zap myself back to two years ago yesterday. THEN IT HAPPENED! It was the birthday gift I never saw coming or knew I was gonna need! In the midst of my nap, in the darkened room with my husband’s ashes beside me, the angel I call daughter had quietly found her way to the side of my bed, adjusted my blanket, then leaned over to gently kiss my forehead.
As I’ve said so many times before, there are so many parts of our parts of this journey we are on that no one will ever truly understand. So many delicate conversations that we have yet to have, and maybe we never will. Things she knows. Things I know. Things we both just have to be okay “knowing” may never be spoken about at all. The complications with Zack’s insanity have forced us to have to nurture some of each other’s wounds quietly, so, her checking on me yesterday the way that she did was the most precious “unspoken” nurturing of all. She didn’t and still doesn’t know that I was aware of what she did, but it happened nonetheless.
And just like that, my former worry that I’d never be celebrated again hit the floor in the best way possible … kinda like my heart did when she gifted me with exactly what I needed at exactly the perfect time! Perhaps the greatest irony here is that even as I’m writing this, she, too, is a little disappointed in herself because she wasn’t able to do anything special for my birthday. Gia, I’m not sure when you’ll finally begin reading this “love letter” I’m writing to you and your brother, but when that day comes, please know THAT I KNOW exactly what you did yesterday when you thought I was asleep! You did do something special for me, if not one of the most special things of my last “Fifty-One-Derful” years. I love you, Mona Lisa, and I see you.
Today, I intersected with another mom who has also buried a child, which turned out to be kinda cool! By now I hope you realize that my intention with this Diary is never to make you sad. “Sad” just isn’t for me, and although I’ve had more than my fair share of it, I choose not to dwell on it for too long. My intention here is only to remind you that we all have the power to earn an invisible cloak just like the one my favorite “not really a superhero SUPERHERO” dons! You know who I’m talking about, right?
BATMAN!
We’re all superheroes, my friends … some of us just don’t know it yet. I mean, let’s be honest – no parent should have to bury their child. It’s just not the natural order. None of us should have to bury anyone EVER! But having done so myself way too many times to count by now, then lived, survived, RISEN and THRIVED to tell about it? I’m here to tell you that although I didn’t quite realize it at the time, my tiny angel’s death was the catalyst to all the best and most endearing parts of what my human spirit could truly withstand and become.
I’m a living, breathing “Dark Knight Of LIGHT” who’s found the strength, courage, and determination to rise above the demons, conflicts, and chaos I’d internalized at different points that tried to take me down, which for the record, is exactly what makes Batman so relatable to me. He’s the only superhero of the historic thousands whose secret identity IS his mask. Whereas, Clark Kent and Peter Parker wear the masks of Superman and Spider-Man, Bruce Wayne is the mask for Batman. He’s a mortal “super human” hiding in plain site, with a list a mile long of perfectly matched villains that took him to the rails against personal weaknesses that eventually became his strengths.
Two-Face challenged the duality of his personality and the two different paths Fate offered. Poison Ivy challenged his struggle with lust and temptation. Scarecrow challenged his struggle with fear. The Riddler challenged the power of his mind. And Joker? Fuhgettabout it! The greatest fictional anarchist of all times held Batman for ransom against his longing for justice and order.
How awesome is it that a cosmic collision with another grieving mom not only made me smile, but also reminded of how effing proud I am of the cloak I wear that no one sees!
The “Dark Knight Of Light” … That’s me … AND you!
Never forget to remind yourself that YOU’RE a bad ass superhero who has triumphed over SO many things – regardless of whether anyone’s acknowledged it! We gotta keep shining our Lights on our OWN heads … because … it’s the right thing to do and we’re allowed to!
You’d have to know what my prayers look like every hour on the hour to know how much it meant to me when the only man left in this world who’s ever really loved me (and perhaps the only one left who ever will) who “speaks to me in song” sent me this poignant message:
I will not let you down. I won’t be cause for harm. So, today I will do better, and I sure hope this can heal.
I have suffered and risen from MANY losses that would have devoured most by now. I had to watch the best human man I’ve possibly ever known literally “dying out loud“. But THIS loss I don’t think I could bare. Which is why this message from him means everything to me … absolutelyeverything!
People are like stained-glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when the darkness sets in their true beauty is revealed only if there is light from within.
{Elisabeth Kübler-Ross}
…. when it’s 365 days later and your formerly “shattered heart” has healed in ways that are still yet to fathom, such that now, as you’re sifting through the “9 years of joy in his eyes”, you are simply and unspeakably THANKFUL!
I’m thankful for the honor of getting to be the ONLY two girls he ever gave his heart to, and that we were his first and last of EVERYTHING:
After realizing how I really felt about Gia as my child and realizing that no one in my life ever felt that for me it hit me that you were the first and only person in my life that ever truly loved me, chose me as THE top priority in their life and fought to help me get over myself but also fought to protect me from anything and everything harmful or defamatory including myself. Even though you didn’t do it for me you brought my daughter in to this world and promoted that relationship that I didn’t even know that I wanted and needed so bad until now. You made me a parent and it turned out that was the greatest thing that ever happened to me next to falling in love with you and your daughter. I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for fostering my relationship with Gia and being there for me even when I was impossible to live with. I don’t deserve a lot of the things you have done and been for me and I will always owe you for everything.
This has been all but impossible to digest and nope, I will never turn a corner or look in any direction and not hear the sounds of their laughter, the traces of their smiles, or feel the bond that they shared in my atmosphere.
I’m here again, a thousand miles away from You. A broken mess – just scattered pieces of who I am. I tried so hard. Thought I could do this on my own. I’ve lost so much along the way. Then I’ll see Your face – I know I’m finally Yours. I find everything I thought I lost before. You call my name – I come to You in pieces so You can make me whole. I’ve come undone, but You make sense of who I am. Like puzzle pieces in Your eye. Then I’ll see Your face – I know I’m finally Yours. I find everything I thought I lost before. You call my name – I come to You in pieces so You can make me whole! I tried so hard! So hard! {Red}
It was a super early morning as we awoke to a 4:30am alarm for a 5:00am departure to her 5:30am practice. While Gia was getting ready, I popped on to Instagram to find the picture above which literally hit me like a ton of bricks. You see, just before waking, I’d been enjoying a blissfully enchanted slumber, during which my husband had conveyed an message to me in the most surreal of ways.
It washim. I just know it! I could smell his skin, sense his touch, and feel his breathe on my face. While I won’t go into detail, because believe it or not there are many things I’ll keep safe inside the most private places of my heart, in this fantasy he had been shadowing me as I moved from one house to another.
He was there … but he wasn’t. I could see him … but I couldn’t. Yet, at every turn I’d made that day, his presence was lingering behind me in a haunting but not frightening way. At the end, what had ’til then only been an eclipse of his presence, turned into his physical body. There we both stood tightly embraced with our hands locked together when I asked this most profound question:
I know where you are … I believe it in my heart … but I just NEED to hear you say it. Am I right? Are you There now? WILL I SEE YOU AGAIN SOMEDAY?
I didn’t hear his voice, as he never spoke a word, but, indeed, he communicated in the sacred “1-2-3 hand squeeze” we’d shared during our season. His answer to my question was emphatic: “One squeeze for yes”, not “two squeezes for no”, right on cue to my prompt.
As this first year without him has all but flown by, I’ve made absolute peace with his suicide. The heartbreaking pain of his manytragic truths was so far beyond sobering that it still reduces me to tears to sit with. Unless or until you’ve born the cross of seeing a person dying out loud in the egregious way that he did, you couldn’t possibly understand the magnitude of relief I felt upon the release of his mortal shackles. He had held on for dear life as long as he possibly could until the day he died, but when the end of his darkness finally settled in, Fate stepped in with the blow.
Still, let’s go back to how this morning with Gia even started. We’d backed out of the garage to find ourselves greeted by a bright orange moon on fire and ethereal setting in the field that abuts our driveway. We were in such connected tangent that it was alarming, but also comforting. The intrinsic conversation that soon availed tapped directly into our understandings of “all of this”, yet far beyond our simply dimensioned minds have yet to fathom. She knows what I know, and I know what she knows, which is ALL either of us needs to know. It’s so powerful.
Keep in mind that the first song that cued up when the engine started today was “Remember Everything“. That had to have meant something … I just knew it! Sufficed to say, though, that neither of us can listen to it now without being reminded of everything we remember about not just our lives, but Zack’s and Christian’s as well. But here’s where it gets even more interesting. After I’d dropped her off and was headed home, that other song I love to hate found it’s way to my speakers:
The Tragic Truth.
IT DIDN’T MAKE ME CRY THIS TIME! Instead, I just smiled as I rolled on down the road with my gaze fixed hard into the sky from which I heard his voice serenading me with those tragically truthful words:
It’s the demons I’ve created for myself … the Tragic Truth … it’s hard for me to understand myself, so it has to be hard as hell for you.
All I can tell you is that my intersection with the Cosmos this morning was everything! Even as I write this I’m smiling again, because while on the surface it may appear that the demons that devoured him won, nothing could be farther from the truth. The rare few of us who really knew him and were honored to both love and be loved by him, know a “truth” that is much more beautiful than tragic: HE’S HOME NOW! No more sorrow. No more pain. No more tears. No more aching for the “family” who abandoned the “Zack Of Shit”. No more voices screaming inside his head.
My “circadian life” is so much bigger than I will ever know, and my adventure still isn’t over. All it took was one cryptic message from The Cosmos to remind me, yet again, that I’m an incredibly blessed widow. In case I’ve never said this, let me say it now: I truly believe that I’m God’s favorite daughter, even despite the many circumstances in my life that seem to prove otherwise. For this, I am as eternally grateful as I am for the true and immense love I still feel that continually travels the distance from from light years away.
One of our favorite traditions was the once-a-year pilgrimage to the harbor at Lake Ray Hubbard in Rockwall to take “The Picture”. It started by happen chance several years ago when Gia was around age seven. We’d stopped into The Bass Pro Shop that abuts the harbor to simply visit the aquariums we’d heard about, at which point we’d decided to take a walk to the end of the pier. As was par for the course, although our little ball of energy and sunshine was always bouncing at least ten steps ahead of us wherever we went, she was never out of his sight. On that day, however, he was going to make damn good and sure she didn’t get too far ahead and fall into the water, so he grabbed her sticky little hand and walked her down. Thus … “The Picture” was born. The plan had long been that we would take the same picture year after year to memorialize the progression of her growth, then eventually end with “the final picture” of the two of them in her gown on her wedding day, at which point her husband could take it from there.
Unfortunately, as I have said before, it wasn’t too far into 2019 that Zack’s descent began to avail itself. Sure, we’d had our good days – and plenty of them. But with everything that was going on, somehow the trek down to the pier never happened. So, on this day, the two of us made a poignant decision together: “Let’s go to Red Robin (one of his favorite places to eat) then down to the pier to take the picture in his honor, then keep taking it year after year.”
So, WE DID IT! There she stood, alone and overcome with emotion, and we did it! Only, then there was a twist. A very talented friend of mine took the original picture of them on the pier and spliced him into the picture of her standing alone. Not only was it probably one of the best ideas I’ve ever had, but I’ve also now decided to keep doing the same thing, year after year, until, you guessed it – HER WEDDING DAY!
It’s been a long and sobering year for us my friends. Am I strong? Of course I am! I was forged under pressure and fire! What you see with me is as real as it gets. Am I absolutely refusing to let him down by seeing us fall apart? YUP! That has never been an option, nor will it ever … because … despite the unspeakable realities at the end that are now mine and my daughter’s, that king loved us with everything he had before he got sick, and believe or not, even in his sickness. So, with that, we are both choosing to only hold on to the good stuff and just leave out all the rest. THIS is how we will “remember him” always.
PLEASE REMEMBER ME
When all our tears have reached the sea. Part of you will live in me way down deep inside my heart. The days keep coming without fail. A new wind is gonna find your sail. That’s where your journey starts. You’ll find better love, strong as it ever was, deep as the river runs, warm as the morning Sun. Please remember me. Just like the waves down by the shore, we’re gonna keep on coming back for more, ’cause we don’t ever wanna stop. Out in this brave new world you seek … o’er the valleys and the peaks … and I can see you on the top. Remember me when you’re out walkin’. When snow falls high outside your door. Late at night when you’re not sleepin’ and moonlight falls across your floor, when I can’t hurt you anymore. {Tim McGraw}
It started out as such a beautiful day as we awoke to a bright blue sky, ate breakfast together, worked out together, then split up for the day so that Zack could see his therapist and Gia and I could go run some errands. He seemed happy. Genuinely happy. We’d been working SO hard to keep his head above the water, and I, the eternal optimist, was counting on the fact that everything was going to be okay and we were going to get him out of the darkness. How little did I know that the darkness was truly settling in all around us.
At just after 2pm, while the rest of the world was just turnin’ and Gia and I were shopping, playing, and getting ready for our “double date” with the boys, the love of my life and one of the MOST beautiful souls I’ve ever known was standing at the Cabella’s counter just a few parking lots away buying the Springfield handgun he used to end his life 14 days later.
PLEASE stop what you are doing right now and take a good look around. I implore you to pay attention and take nothing and NO ONE for granted. One of those faces you see either standing right beside you or faded into the crowd just may in fact be the “happy, smiling face” of a human being who is secretly dying inside … especially during times like these.
Studies are showing that as “Atlas has been falling“, social isolation, anxiety, uncertainty, chronic stress, and dire economic difficulties have led to both the development and exacerbation of depression, substance abuse, and a host of other mental illnesses. Given that stress-related psychiatric conditions are often associated with suicidal behavior, it’s no surprise that the suicide rate has skyrocketed.
I find no coincidence in the sobering and twisted fact that while unbeknownst to me, my husband was enacting the tragic plan to end his own life, I was making an entirely different kind of plan later that same night to help slay dragons and demons of my own:
As I’ve become passionate about raising mental health awareness with all my waves and ripples, this particular post that I wrote in a widely read question and answer forum I contribute to is my most prolific pieces so far:
I’ve been writing tirelessly about not only his, but my mental health journey as well, in “The Diary Of My Perfection”. I’d be honored if any of you would care to read, follow or share it, as it is now my mission to try and be a Light in other people’s darkness. Thank you for the kind words and vast support of this post. It means everything to me. I cannot let either his lost battle with mental illness or anyone else’s have been in vain.
At over 150,000 views and 6,000 “shares” and counting in virtually every country and language, while “this day” in my life will always remain a truly bittersweet part of my story, I REFUSE to let this fucked up, “fate-filled” moment in our family’s history have been in vain. It will not define me as a victim, because I am CHOOSING to see it as a “Lions Gate Portal” to manifesting something truly powerful from it’s wreckage.
I saw these words posted on the Instagram page of a friend of sorts. He’s a musician, an inspirer, a widow, and a pirate who I follow whose posts I thoroughly adore:
… listen to her thoughts … adore her like no one could ever do … be more than just a text message … be the air they breathe, future they plan and smile they wear everywhere … live to have her hug you from behind … write her letters and hold hands while kissing … love until your heart is empty … and then love some more … BE HER EVERYTHING!
My King in Heaven is smitten with me, too, by the way … I can feel His hands wrapped around my heart with every breathe. My crazyblind faith in Him pales in comparison to the faith He’s had in me since before I was even born, and He’s loved me like the QUEEN He always intended me to be long before any man on this Earth did. Is there to be “one last king” in this realm for me? Only He knows that and He’s got this! I’ve been there and done that, and the legacies of love the two of them left behind for me are more than enough to fill my heart for the NEXT fifty years without them if that is what’s to be.
That being said, I must admit that my standards are obnoxiously high now. As I’ve long said before, it would take one HELL of a powerful presence to stand with the shadows of the two that came before him. I know EXACTLY who I am, EXACTLY what I’m worth, and EXACTLY who is worthy of my time, attention, and affection. Sufficed to say, I will accept nothing but a king again, so unless and until that day comes that the “one last king on Earth” comes to find me, I’ll continue to reign here in my kingdom happily alone but not lonely. Trust me when I say that this crown on my head is going nowhere. As for the next 50 years? I’ll be having the time of my life and simply enjoy being alive.
Yesterday morning, I woke up to another one of those music moments I’ve come to love and cherish when my son communicates what he’s feeling by texting me a song. As I’ve said, his music messages are one of my greatest treasures, and ironically, Zack would often do the very same thing, which of course I treasured as well. Sufficed to say, today my own eyes are open wide and I’m beyond thankful that my beautiful king finally found the peace he could never find:
But as they laid him in the ground, her heart would sing with out a sound. For the first time you can open your eyes and see the world without your sorrow when no one knows the pain you left behind and all the peace you could never find that’s waiting there to hold and keep you. Welcome to the first day of your life. Just open up your eyes.
I just know it. God had His hand on my husband’s heart at all times, even while he was roaming this Earth as the motherless and forsaken “trashcan boy” he always saw when he looked in the mirror. I am still the most blessed woman I have ever known to have roamed this Earth as well. How is that even possible? It’s because God has had His hand on my heart at all times as well during my greatest triumphs and joys and my darkest tragedies and traumas.
When Jesus heard this, He told them, “Healthy people don’t need a doctor – sick people do. I have come to call not those who think they are righteous, but those who know they are sinners.”
{MARK 2:17}
I once heard it said that the things that break your heart are the same things that open your eyes. So, here’s to making it a really epic day my friends and hanging on to your faith! Remember, “this is our temporary home“, nothing more, nothing less. As for Mr? The very best part of all of this is still yet to come, and this pain has been a gift.
And the men who hold high places must be the ones who start to mold a new reality closer to the heart … The blacksmith and the artist reflect it in their art. They forge their creativity closer to the heart. Yes, closer to the heart … Philosophers and plowmen – each must know his part to sow a new mentality closer to the heart … You can be the captain and I will draw the chart sailing into destiny closer to the heart.
{Rush}
I dropped Gia and a friend at the mall today to get them out of the house and let her spend some of her birthday money. When I picked them up, they jumped in the car with a small boatload of shopping bags each.
Just WAIT until you see everything I bought, Mom! I’ll do the grand unveiling when we get home!
Not two minutes had passed after walking in the door when she excitedly started the “unveiling”, but in true Gia style, she’d saved the best three treasures for last. As she pulled them out of their respective bags, my heart all but burst out of my chest! She had a Batman, a Venom, and the “Farewell To Kings” vinyl with one of my favorite Rush songs ever on it, “Closer To The Heart”!
HOLY SMOKES, BATMAN! Have you heard a thing I’ve said? He will be one of my favorite superheroes, although technically he’s not a superhero. He’s a mortal man with no magic powers who epitomizes the endless possibilities of the human spirit and metamorphosis under less than optimal conditions and unyielding pressure. He’s the benchmark of achievement through heart, soul, discipline, and determination – the juxtaposition of light to dark, and ying to yang. Batman became who he needed to become by pulling himself out of himself for the betterment of mankind. My daughter feels the same way about Batman, by the way, and he is her favorite non-super superhero, too. We both have capes, you know? You can’t see them, ’cause they’re invisible.
VENOM! Again, have you heard anything I’ve said? Let me fill you in on the “Venom” of it all by first clarifying who he is. There’s a great deal of debate in the Spider-Man community in this regard. Is Venom also Spider-Man … is he just Venom … or is he both? Factually, the Venom movie has no correlation to Spider-Man, but within the Marvel comics, it’s complicated.
Venom made his first appearance in 1984 as a new Spider-Man suit the “Secret Wars” storyline when Spider-Man came into possession of a mysterious new black suit that gave him extra powers, which suit is later revealed to be a malevolent alien symbiote that attached itself to Peter Parker. Although Peter soon rid himself of the suit because of its inherently evil nature and propensity to channel an inner darkness inside himself that he doesn’t want to channel, the symbiote ended up bonding with Eddie Brock, a reporter with a serious grudge against Spider-Man. Eddie Brock and the black suit then became symbiotically bonded as Venom. So then, no, Venom is not Spider-Man. “The suit”, however, does to me represent the dark alter ego of Spider-Man. It’s a thick, black, suffocative web of enmeshed and entangled emotions that overtakes and chokes the life out of its host, much like the one I fought so desperately to get the HELL off of me for more than forty years, the one my son still wears, and the one my beautiful husband was wearing as he slipped away into the abyss. “The Greatest Battle Lies Within” and the accompanying “Venom of it all” are so much more than words and comic book movie characters to me. And my daughter feels the same way!
Last, but not least, let’s get a little “closer” to my heart! I’ve always loved this album. “A Farewell To Kings“? Of course, there’s not a bit of irony with this in the circadian life I live, nor a need for me to go any further. The words speak volumes on their own. Sufficed to say, her little shopping spree today brought us even closer than we already were.
As I’ve said many times before, from the first week he married me, there was never a time that there weren’t fresh flowers somewhere in our home for me. Some he sent, and others he picked up, but their method of delivery didn’t really matter, because …
…I JUST LOVE FRESH FLOWERS!
He only had to hear me say it once, and the rest is merely history. As our lives got busier and his career took off, however, there were times that he just couldn’t go get them, so, I started making fresh flower arrangements on my own to fill the voids. My little treks to my favorite flower haunts soon became one of the brightest spots of my week, and still are to this day. It always made him happy to come home and find that I’d treated myself.
~ The Last Flowers He Ever Sent ~
Sufficed to say, not a week has passed since the day he left, nor will there EVER be, that there haven’t been fresh flowers in this castle he left behind for me. I’ll continue to treat myself like the queen he saw in his eyes who deserves only the best treatment from everyone, including myself!
Zack brought Gia flowers fairly often, as well, and sometimes to ONLY Gia, which I loved, and so did she. Part of my process with her now is to deeply imprint into her psyche that SHE, TOO, IS A QUEEN! It’s not uncommon for us to be at the market and her to run off and come back with flowers she chooses for herself. I’ve made her promise that when it’s time for her to leave this nest she’ll remember that she can buy herself flowers, too, regardless of whether there’s a man in her life.
KINGS & QUEENS:
I once again challenge every one of you to and go and get YOURSELF some flowers this week! They don’t have to be expensive. You can make your own arrangement with flowers from the grocery store and wildflowers or even weeds growing on the side of the road, which is par for the course with me. If you do “go and get yourself some flowers”, PLEASE MESSAGE ME A PICTURE OF THEM! It would absolutely make my day to see that I’ve made a ripple in your pond with this thought process!
On November 23, 2019, last year, I attended my first “International Survivors Of Suicide Loss Day” with the one and only man who ever stepped up as a true father to my husband at the Presbyterian Hospital in Dallas. Of course, we attended to honor my husband’s memory and suicide, but as much to honor my daughter, who in case you didn’t already know, was also suicidal the night that Zack left.
It was a beautiful, symposium style conference intended to be a day of healing, where all those impacted by suicide loss could connect around the lives of their loved ones and the experiences of hope, support, and encouragement. It was a wonderful day that did in fact help solidify my steadfast road to the recovery process that I was headstrong determined to conquer!
At the end of the day, each attendee received a packet of memorial “seedling” paper on which to write intentional messages of love, hope and perhaps even notes to our loved ones. I of course brought mine home, but because of the extremely complicated ways that he hurt her, Gia’s road to recovery was not only delicate, but, strictly on her timing. So, the packet just sat in our windowsill for months.
Without going into details, all I can say is THIS: That “love note” you see above? “I forgive you dad“. IT WAS EVERYTHING! I’m not sure when or if the day will ever come that either myself or she will be able to share everything that really happened in the literalpsychosis and insanity that proceeded his death but sufficed to say … my daughter is a phoenix! My daughter is a miracle! My daughter is everything I aspire to be if and when the day ever comes that I decide to grow up.
… who’s famously spent his journey covered in engine grease and smelling like gasoline, even at his extra “bougie college“.
… who’s been chastised and mocked for the foolish wastes of time, money, and obsessive effort he’s spent making a dream come true.
… who called me all but SCREAMING and on the verge of tears late last night:
MOMMA! I did it! I totally fucking did it! She pulled 592.5 at 6500rpm!
That “moron” just made me a very proud “grease monkey GRANDMA”! He found a forged, 4-bolt, 385 cubic inch, 1955 design, ’87 small block Chevy engine at a pick and pull four years ago, and has been HELL BENT on turning it in to a stroker that would pull at least 500hp. Up until now, he’d only ever come close to that twice at 450hp.
I know that none of this either means much or makes sense to most people, and honestly, it doesn’t even make sense to me. Just know that “trash to treasuring” a thirty-plus year old cast away engine into a naturally aspirated 600hp masterpiece is a pretty big fucking deal! Even the owner of the speed shop where they had it on a dyno couldn’t believe his eyes. But, alas, there was this bittersweet moment:
Momma, Zack would have been so proud of me. He knew I could do it and told me I could! He believed in me. Only you and him EVER really believed in me!
Nope! I’m not crying as I’m writing this, lol. Now, if you believe that, it might be YOU that’s a moron. (Just kidding!) Right now I’m an actual blubbering mess of the proudest tears a new grandmother could possibly cry, because they don’t know what I do. After a lifetime of trying to rise above the same shrapnel and less than impeccable words that almost buried us both, all I could think of was THESE most powerful and vindicating words:
They can break him down if it makes them feel right … and hate him now if it keeps them alright. They can break him down if it takes all their might, ’cause he’s SO much more that meets the eye!
People who take selfies are narcissistic and vain!
(The Former Mislead & Completely MISINFORMED “Not So REAL” Cat Williamson)
Yes, indeed, THOSE are the words I used to say about “selfies”! Upon further deliberation, however, I have since changed that narrative to something more like this:
Self-acceptance, self-LOVE, and SELF-appreciation are PERFECTLY okay in appropriate doses, if not a necessary evil, so, JUST TAKE THE FUCKING SELFIE!
If YOU don’t love you, 100% unconditionally, EVEN on your darkest of days, and value, see, and TREAT yourself as EPIC living masterpiece that you are, why would anyone else?
In honor of “National Selfie Day“, here’s a little gift in the form of wisdom for those of you who refuse to jump on board the train for fear of people thinking you’re a self-grandioso, conceited “WHOOPEE! LOOK AT ME!” bus just waiting to run them over with your ego …
If it’s true (and it is) that we should treat others as we wish to be treated, isn’t it about time that you finally reach for a place of self-love, acceptance, and healing in your journey? Not only are YOU the one who “gets” to spend the most time of all with YOU, the last time I checked, The Big does NOT make trash! If HEloves and adores you, SO SHOULD YOU!
Hi everyone, it’s, me, CAT! I am Fifty-ONE-Derful years old and fearfully and wonderfully made! So, please excuse the mess … I didn’t see it from behind. I caught a glimpse, but the reflection’s only mine.
With that, I want to challenge YOU to post a selfie very soon. It’s okay to love yourself, as long as you’re doing it from a humble place, always keepin’ it real, and being mindful that you’re “Nothing. Everything. ALL OF IT“!
Last night, while I was in the closet pondering the idea of tackling Zack’s clothes and personal belongings (which, PS, are all still either hanging or sitting completely untouched and exactly as they were the last time he walked out of this house at 8:00pm on August 22, 2019), I stumbled upon the little box of all the trinkets and baubles my son has given me over the years, not the least of which is the box the Godiva chocolates came in itself! You see, it was empty when he secretly pulled it out of the trash at age eight on the day of my 30th birthday only to put a handwritten love note from him to me inside it. My favorite thing, however, is the Circa 1999 “Valentine Stick” that he wrapped in a napkin a few years before that at age seven.
With this, I was joyfully reminded of the many wonderful gifts this boy has brought to my life over the years, not the least of which is the only unconditional love from a human I’d ever known prior to Zack, and then, of course, the inspiration to LIVE, fight and change a very broken and toxic family cycle.
No matter what “things” I have or never have, have had and then lost, or have otherwise been given or not given, I am still a woman who is blessed beyond measure with EVERYTHING!
I was also reminded of the true and sobering fact about life itself, which is that whenever someone gives to you, they may be giving you all they have. We should never take gifts for granted, no matter how big, how small, or even tangible.
Dare I remember the night that Frog Prince of mine promised to build me “a castle of stone and brick“. Lol, if only he’d known that regardless of the material gifts and “things” he’d given me, I could happily have lived with him anywhere, so long as I had that giant heart of his.
Perhaps the best part of finding this little box of goodies last night, especially in light of what I was mentally tackling in that closet in the first place, is that finding the “little box of everything” literally STOPPED me from falling apart in the midst of all Zack’s “stuff”. I’m serious people … THIS is how my life works! It’s all good. It’s all God. It’s exactly as it needs to be. Just sayin’ …
Last night, while the unsuspecting world was either peacefully sleeping or wrestling with the Devil, something epic happened in the subculture I live in called “Knuckleheaddom”. It was the official video release of one, “A Little Bit Off”. Guess what people? I just woke up to Christmas in June and couldn’t be any more stoked!
PICTURE IT …
A seemingly “normalish“, 51yo woman sitting in bed singing along to a ridiculous music video, swaying back and forth and waving her fist in the air! (Lol. Yes, that really happened.) If you haven’t figured it out by now, much like the leader of this crazy Pride I’m in, I, too, am an oxymoron, and my Knucklehead card is one of my most powerful flexes. “The REAL Cat Williamson”: Loves people. Hates peopling. Loves Light. Hates dark. Loves love. Hates hate. Loves being broken. Loves being whole. Loves Jesus.
Jean-Claude Van DAMN there are many days that I just wake up feeling OFF. Guess what? THAT’S OKAY! I spent nearly an entire lifetime being ashamed of my “fuckin’ crazy” and even more so the train wreck I emerged from. That was then. This is now. THESE DAYS I FUCKING EMBRACE IT! Leave it to this gang of creatively genius, beautifully disastrous, oxymoronical MANIACS to help me figure out that not only is it okay for me to be a jacked up effing mess sometimes, it’s also okay for me to yell, scream, and holler it out loud any fucking time I want to! So, with that, make it a great day and here’s hoping YOU can embrace your “off days”, too!
I’ll try to keep this as short as possible, but can’t make any promises …
So, let me go back to the very first glimpse of the rabbit hole I almost fell into after an entire week of being chastised, reprimanded, scolded, and all but burned alive on a cross for voicing my opinions, feelings, views and support for the personal “bandwagon” I have jumped on amidst what I truly believe is Atlas Falling. Lol! Of all the punches I’ve taken this week, the worst was a comment by a now former friend who calls herself “a Christian”:
Wow, so glad to finally see you!
No, it wasn’t a compliment. She heard me say “I love oranges”, then took it upon herself to assume that I don’t also love apples and pears. Who the FUCK is she to judge me by picking only the lines that best suit her schooling of my beliefs?
Meanwhile, last night at 5:53pm, this:
… which then led to this at 8:00pm:
… which then led to this at 8:21PM:
… at which point I felt a little better and was able to fall asleep. But alas, that victory was short-lived, because THEN I woke up to this:
This “memory” couldn’t have come at a worse time, since I had just recovered from almost falling backwards less than eight hours prior.
It was Mother’s Day 2019 that was the beginning of his descent, but it was on June 5, 2014 after having had to stay home and take care of us for a while that truly began his unravelling. I’d been getting ready for bed, only to find him waiting in bed lost somewhere inside his own mind:
Baby? Is everything okay? Where were you just now?
I had to physically push him to get his attention. When he turned his head to look at me there were tears rolling down his face:
Catherine, I don’t think I ever realized ‘what I never had’ growing up until now. What she never gave me. What she never did for me, but she DID do for all of them. Going through all of this with you has been a blessing and a curse. She threw me away. They all did. Every one of them. It’s as though I just don’t exist. I wasn’t good enough for her. For them. They never wanted me. I’m nothing.
Meanwhile, there I was laying in bed this morning and unable to face the empty spot beside me, so, I turned the other way to avoid looking in that direction. I became fixated on the wall where the light seeping through the blinds that shroud the windows was trying desperately to reach me. I was all but paralyzed, and too numb to even cry, until I picked up my phone and saw this:
… which THEN led to this at 10:54am:
… and thus, my profound conclusion:
GOOD MORNING VIETNAM!
I’m STILL a fortress. I’m still a queen. I’m still the strongest bitch I’ve ever known, with the greatest King of all Who has never failed me. As par for the course, He’s already got this whole thing figured out for all of us. If I so much as think about letting this fortress I’ve become crumble, He bombards me with signs and love notes from His heart and reminds me that I’m never gonna be alone. This morning, He answered my cry with the most beautiful Molotov cocktail I’ve ever seen through a picture and the words of a stranger:
You fukin’ go kick ass today!!!!
So, with that, “I’m going back in” with everything He’s given me for the battlefield, not the least of which is the Cosmic validation I needed in the words of total strangers. Everything IS gonna be okay!
HEAVEN HELP ME
When I can’t find the words. When I can barely breathe. I’m falling on my knees. Heaven help me. Heaven help me. When I can’t feel You near, and I can’t hear You speak. I’m falling on my knees. Heaven help me. Heaven help me. Help me. Help me. ‘Cause I can’t walk this road alone, and I can’t do this on my own. Tell me. Tell me. I just need to hear You say that everything will be okay. When I don’t understand. When I don’t think I can. I know You have a plan, so Heaven help me. Heaven help me. Help me. Help me. ‘Cause I can’t walk this road alone, and I can’t do this on my own. Tell me. Tell me. ‘Cause I just need to hear You say that everything will be okay. Help me believe it. When I can’t see it. Help me to know it. When I can’t hold it … {Zach Williams}
Early this morning at just after midnight: The porch; My daughter; “The Frog“; THE FORGIVENESS; The very few people who will ever understand; My heart; MY GOD … IS SO GOOD. I am blessed. She is strong. No other words. That’s all.
I’d been out running errands and was approaching the house in which I dwelled that was certainly not a home when it found its way to my cue. From that first, solemn chord, the forlorn guitar began cutting me like a knife as I pulled into the garage. There I sat frozen in my car, compelled to just sit and listen as the words began. Then, out of nowhere, a barrage of tears washed over me, literally and metaphorically. I was so numb and paralyzed in the moment that I couldn’t even wipe my eyes. I could neither breathe nor feel my fingertips as the music began manifesting a visceral aching inside my heart.
When it was over, I just sat there trying to gather myself before walking back inside the lie that had become my life. Before I knew it, my son appeared in the doorway holding his sister in his arms. They greeted me with their waves and smiles completely oblivious to the sobering reality that I was secretly dying.
That night, after everyone was asleep, I sat down at my computer to write a letter to God in this “Diary Of My Perfection”, which was then merely an outlet for my very private hell. The words to the song said everything that needed to be said at that moment, and thus my entry, “APRIL 21, 2008: I’m A Gift. I’m A curse.“
Here I am, fifteen years to the day that one of the most beautiful “gifts” I never knew I needed became a part of the tapestry of my beautiful life. It took a lot of blind faith, time, accountability, honesty, self-discovery, and patience, forgiveness and gracefor and with myself to be sitting in this chair writing this. Not a second goes by that I don’t remember how damn lucky I am to simply be alive.
When I listen to it now, my emotions are a paradox, as on one hand I can smile as I look back and realize how far I’ve come, but on the other, I am sadly reminded of a night just weeks before he left that my beautiful husband also listened to this song while we were driving home from “somewhere” and silent tears began falling from his eyes. It rips my fucking heart out when I think of how helpless and hopeless it felt to watch him dying right in front of me and even more so that he was never able to see what a gift to this world he truly was.
If I had one wish for anyone reading this and struggling to find “The Gift”, it’s that that they listen to this song in a very quiet place and really sit with all the chords and words as you let them break you down. The answer is inside you, I promise that it is, so, challenge yourself to find it. Your weakness is your strength. Being broken makes you whole. The pain that you feel IS the gift! Do the work, take your time, cry out to Jesus, and find your way back to the place your soul belongs: WITH YOU!
It’s okay to feel sadness and grief for the things that have died inside of you, and it’s definitely okay to cry. Now that I think of it, it’s a blessing that one of my favorite verses in the Bible also happens to be the shortest:
CRY AS OFTEN AS YOU NEED TO! Get mad! Scream out loud! Do what you must to let yourself feel everything that has hurt you so you can finally let it go! Then, someday when it’s time for you to sit back and marvel at what you’ve survived, listen to it again. Maybe, like me, you’ll find that ONLY these words remain:
… now I feel relief … I’ll hold on … I do belong here and I’m well … I’m living right … I can face myself when I wake up and look inside a mirror … I let it go … I have something more to say for me …I believe in me … I defy … now I feel complete … like I matter to The One I need … now I’m THIS … I’M THE GIFT!
THE GIFT
Hold me now,I need to feel relief. Like I never wanted anything. I suppose I’ll let this goandfind a reason I’ll hold on to. I’m so ashamed of defeat. And I’m out of reasontobelieve in me. I’m out of trying to get by. I’m so afraid of The Gift You give me. I don’t belong here and I’m not well. I’m so ashamed of the lie I’m living right on the wrong side of it all. I can’t face myself when I wake up and look inside a mirror. I’m so ashamed of that thing. I suppose I’ll let it go ’tilI have something more to say for me. I’m so afraid of defeat. And I’m out of reason to believe in me. I’m out of trying to defy. I’m so afraid of The GiftYou give me. Idon’t belong hereand I’mnot well. I’m so ashamed of the lie I’m living right on the wrong side of it all. Hold me now, I need to feel complete. Like I matter to The One I need. I’m so afraid of The Gift You give me. I don’t belong hereandI’m not well. I’m so ashamed of the lie I’m living right on the wrong side of it all. Now I’m ashamed of this. {Seether}
Every time I tried to make it on my own. Every time I tried to stand and start to fall. And all those lonely roads that I have travelled on.
There was Jesus.
When the life I built came crashing to the ground. When the friends I had were nowhere to be found. I couldn’t see it then, but I can see it now.
There was Jesus.
In the waiting. In the searching. In the healing and the hurting. Like a blessing buried in the broken pieces. Every minute. Every moment. Where I’ve been and where I’m going. Even when I didn’t know it or couldn’t see it.
There was Jesus.
For this man who needs amazing kind of grace. For forgiveness at a price I couldn’t pay. I’m not perfect, so I thank God every day.
There was Jesus.
In the waiting. In the searching. In the healing and the hurting. Like a blessing buried in the broken pieces. Every minute. Every moment. Where I’ve been and where I’m going. Even when I didn’t know it or couldn’t see it.
There was Jesus.
On the mountain. In the valleys.
There was Jesus.
In the shadows of the alleys.
There was Jesus.
In the fire and in the flood.
There was Jesus.
Always is and always was.
No, I never walk alone.
You are always there.
In the waiting. In the searching. In the healing and the hurting. Like a blessing buried in the broken pieces. Every minute. Every moment. Where I’ve been and where I’m going. Even when I didn’t know it or couldn’t see it …
This is Ivan. He’s the lead MANIAC for the band of my life, Five Finger Death Punch! Ivan isn’t your run of the mill guy, and to some he may seem kinda scary. Covered in tattoos as he serenades the world from the darkest depths of his being, he’s the living embodiment of alchemy, and one of my very few heroes! He level’s up his “Phoenix” to an entirely different vibration if you can just look past the scars on his bleeding soul. “What you see is what you get.” Nope! Not with Ivan! He’s a completely open book and a total mystery, as on one hand he seems to be telling us everything about himself, while on the other no one really knows him. That’s how I feel about myself by the way, but where in the HELL was I going with this? Oh, yes, I remember … it seems I’ve been “shooken” by a ghost yet again!
Earlier this week he posted a clip of himself “TikTok-ing” with his daughter which immediately cut my heart in a brand-new place that I never knew needed to be cut. It was one of the sweetest things I think I’ve ever seen, while also one of the saddest. You see, I am a daughter who cannot help but wonder, “What could have been if my larger-than-life father had danced with me in the living room”?
So, here’s the thing, people: He’s probably worth a gazillion bucks and has a cult-like following worldwide. But when the lights go down at his final show, what do you think that beautiful little girl of his will tell her about her daddy? “Grandpa Ivan was a rock and roll star” or “Grandpa Ivan danced with me”? I’m betting it’s gonna be the latter.
This, my friends, is what us “knuckleheads” call “The Brighter Side Of Grey“, and I’m here to tell you it’s EVERYTHING! Despite the mottled undertones here about the struggles with my own father, I very much want to end this entry with a “brighter side of grey” that I’ve found …
My daughter had two dads to take her to the castle, which I find rather amazing. While her “step dad” escorted her to most of them, her real dad escorted her to a couple as well. Neither of them was perfect, and both of them hurt her in complicated yet delicate ways, but at the end of the day I just know in my heart that she’ll treasure those dancing days forever! She’s an incredibly lucky girl, but I’m an even luckier mom, so beyond thankful for both of the princes who danced with their Cinderella!
The Diary Of My Perfection 