Secrets Make Me Sick No Longer
How can this be happening? I’m losing him. WE’RE LOSING HIM! And now it feels like I’m losing myself.
The best part of my life came and past and it’s all downhill from here.
He’s dying. HE’S FUCKING DYING! I can’t do this without him. What will I do if he doesn’t get better? PLEASE, oh God, PLEASE … give us both just enough strength to make it through this.
No man in his right mind would have grown up dreaming of the day he’d run into mentally exhausted single mom in $35,000 worth of debt on the verge of a nervous breakdown, yet, here you are standing fearless, a beacon of light shining brightly behind me, my two living babies and the ghost of another, ever present, always faithful, and often at the sacrifice of yourself.
If only you’d have known that as you arrived to work that October day, every plan you’d ever planned, dream you’d ever dreamt, or wish you’d ever wished for your own life and future was completely unraveling. You could have worn one of those silly expectant father shirts with sparkly pink letters across your chest … “I’M GONNA BE A DAD! IT’S A GIRL!” … and maybe even passed out cigars!
He was standing in front of that one big window at the gym, turned his head, our eyes locked!
(“A Sky Full Of Stars In The Window“)
YOU KNOW THE REST! You made me sick, I ran away, didn’t come back for months, and so the story goes. By then it was too late, though, and little did we know that Destiny had already begun weaving the colorful fabric of “us” on Her loom.
I want you to know that I am ever so aware that none of this has ever been easy for you, although to those who don’t know what really lies beneath the frosting of the beautiful cake you’ve become, you DO make it all seem so effortless. But this job you never imagined you’d be showing up for on an equally cool night the following November came with so many unseen challenges and struggles, most of which have fallen on your shoulders without complaint. I know we weren’t the family you were expecting – “some other guy’s leftovers”. And I’m guessing she wasn’t quite the “little pink bundle of joy” you may have pondered welcoming into your once very private world.
As for all the things you have been, done and given? You didn’t have to do ANY of them! No one ever asked you. You just did … and still do. All the tears you have cried with her. For her, and about her? They matter, and I’ve counted them all! He breaks her. You fix her. He makes excuses. You look for solutions. He hurts her. He hurts you. He lets them both down, but you keep picking them up. I suppose the defining moment as to who and what you are as a father was that morning just a few weeks ago when you were first reduced to tears at the realization of how much she has grown in the years since you first met her and how quickly time is speeding by:
Catherine, I only have five years left with her and then she’ll be going to college. It seems like a lifetime when she’s only gone for two days, so what’s going to happen when she’s gone for months at a time? And then when she’s gone for good? Just thinking about it makes me sick and I don’t know how I’ll survive it!
Meanwhile, it appears as though “dad” is just counting down the minutes until he finally gets to live the life he really wants to live with the woman and her child whose words, deeds, and actions have all but slain both my children.
You’re a beautiful human being, Zachariah, and your heart’s depths knows no bounds. You could have had anything … anyone … and to this day I cannot understand why you’ve done the things you have done for us, and more than that, why you didn’t run as FAR away as any other man’s legs could possibly have carried him. I was so beaten down, tired, weary and ragged and had literally NOTHING to offer you whatsoever. A father who wouldn’t accept you. An ex-husband who maligned you. A pile of debt. A broken body. An empty womb. The two ghosts. “His” kids. Still, you chose us.
I want to say thank you my true and faithful King. Thank you from the depths of my soul. You are so much of everything and then some. You’re the love of my life that I never knew I’d never had until that that moment I finally knew what the selfless, unconditional love of a man and a father was supposed to be. I know this may sound crazy, but it’s because of YOU that I now fully realize how God pours His own love into all of us. When I look at you? I see Him. You’re just a mortal man, imperfect in so many ways, but your honor, intentions, and steadfast love and devotion to this family are unwavering and always “for better or worse”.
You’re the beating of our hearts, the voice that calms our fears, the words to all our songs, the hand that wipes our tears, our eyes when we can’t see, our lungs when we can’t breathe, our legs when we can’t walk, and our arms when we can’t hold ourselves upright. You have made us both believe we’re the two most treasured prizes a man could have won, and that our many flaws and weaknesses are just as beautiful as you claim we both truly are. You are the mirror we gaze into when our own reflections fail us, and we are never more confident than when we’re standing behind you, beside you, or with you at our six. We belong to you Zachariah, and for some reason it was supposed to be this way. You gave us a home … and your heart … and everything we have today. We love you more than any of my endless words could say.
Happy Father’s Day to the real life “Superman” we waited for so long to show up. We love you “Everyday” from now until the end of Eternity.
My husband wrote this for Gia in June because he believed, and it’s true, that they shared similarly broken hearts. Now, in reading it a second time, I realize he was actually writing about himself. Ten years ago my husband saved my life, and hers. In the end, it was him that needed to be saved … but I couldn’t do it.
To Catherine (my first and last Love, my soulmate and best friend),
Considering recent events and conclusions I have come to about my life, childhood, parenthood and overall feelings about the people in my life, I have come to some huge conclusions about you and your role in my life. Although we have had a rocky ride at times and we have done some really bad shit to each other I still really would do it all over again. Not just for Gia either. I do love you and I am still in love with you I just got lost along the way because I could not figure out why felt so distant from you and distant everything for that matter including myself if that makes sense. I do love everything about you except for the way we interact/react to each other under difficult circumstances.
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.
You are an outstanding mother and wife and I realized it is only because of your deep seeded insecurities mostly having to do with your parents and life events that cause you to do the stuff that really upsets and hurts me. I wish we didn’t do bad things to each other but no marriage is perfect and we have to keep trying. I worry more about my own bad choices destroying our relationship than I do yours and I’m sorry for everything I’ve done to hurt, invalidate or upset you. The list of those things goes on and on but I am trying to do and be better for you and for me as well.
I love you and I am in love you I just disconnected myself to protect myself. It wasn’t just you though. I was disconnecting from everything here lately because of my perceived failure at work and at home. When Gia goes to college you are all I’m going to have and that’s a good thing but I was afraid it would leave me alone and that things would get worse between us without Gia there as a buffer. I realize now I need to allow myself to trust and invest in our relationship even more physically and emotionally. Gia going away could become a blessing for us having more time to do things we love together and not stressing out about the juggling back and forth for her between Pete, school and other activities. I love you and I’m in love with you. I want it to stay that way and I want us to get closer as a result of what’s been going on here lately. This is just part of life. Gia is supposed to go have her life and we are supposed to have ours also. I want to have my life with you. You were my first love, my first EVERYTHING and I want you to be the last god willing.
Please forgive me for my doubts about you and about us and let’s move forward and make our marriage better than it has ever been. Ok?
Ten years ago, in the midst of a mental health crisis and major crossroad, I got a job driving big Ford trucks from Dallas to the four surrounding states, Kansas, and Missouri as a dealer trade “valet”. I spent so many days and nights alone on the open road just driving, crying, laughing, talking to myself and God. I’d stop in as many small towns as I could along the way in the quietest corners of “anywhere but home”, find a quaint cafe, then just sit with some coffee and listen, observe, and absorb as many “outside my bubble” experiences as possible. That job was one of the best things I’ve ever done, and I swear I wouldn’t be here right now if not for it.
Back then, I was a rocker who hadn’t heard of Rascal Flatts yet. I fondly remember the day I was rolling down the I40 to Yukon in a jacked up Ford F-550 when this song queued up to the radio. Meanwhile, there were horses actually running in the field abutting the highway, with a crisp, blue sky in the background that all but took my breathe away and reduced me to some of the most cathartic tears I’ve ever cried. I believe with every shred of my being that God set up that one singular moment in time up for me as the catalyst for the beginning of the “apostrophe” I’ve become.
Here I am now what seems like a lifetime later, eternally thankful for the countless tears I shed in those trucks that allowed me to finally begin the bittersweet process of moving on stronger, wiser, and ALIVE, despite the many broken roads I’d been down and sometimes still have to travel.
These days, when I hear this song I get butterflies as I dream of all the possibilities in her future. Whereas the girl in the song is learning how to let go, which was clearly me back then, I can only pray that these words will apply to our girl for much brighter and hopeful reasons. We don’t want her to ever be in a position where she has to choose between “someone” or herself. We want her to be strong and wise enough to start with choosing herself first and let all the naturally beautiful things that follow be her reward.
Williamson and I are determined to build our girl into a mentally wealthy, confident, and strong woman who will never have to wonder who she is and run away to save her own soul like I did. She’ll live life on her terms like the QUEEN she’s destined to be, “no reins” whatsoever, and I’ll fight for her to have that freedom until the day I’m gone and beyond. Unless, of course, she finds a king of her own one day who is lucky enough to capture her painted wild mustang heart. God willing, he’ll run right alongside her for the ride of both their lives, never stop loving her unconditionally, and cherish the beautiful chaos she will surely bring into his world.
For the record, I’ve been praying for this boy, wherever in this world be may be, since the day that she was born. Actually? Now that I think of it, I’ve been praying for both my kids’ spouses all their lives. God has been so good to us in all things big and small, so I know that if a Prince Charming is meant to happen in her queendom, he’ll find her eventually “o’er field and fodder” and everything between. If and when that day finally comes, this crazy circle my life has been going in will be complete, and I will be one very happy mama!
THIS. On this night I watched my baby girl take the center of the stage as the first boy she ever really had a crush on gave her “the first dance”. To fully appreciate this, you must first travel back with me to “the day of the ball on the playground”. It was 4th grade for her, 5th grade for him, during one of my playground shifts their school. I was sitting on the curb, kinda not paying attention, until I happened to look up at just the right time to see her and her friends playing four square. The ball they were “squaring” got bounced off their court and started rolling towards the basketball court where some boys were playing. So, the ball was just rollin’ and the girls were all panicking, because “OMG it’s headed for ALL THOSE BOYS”! The next thing you know, this very handsome young man stopped the ball with his foot, picked it up and started walking towards the gaggle of panicking girls! But it didn’t end there, you see, because that handsome boy decided to invite himself to their game. When recess was over, I followed the girls back into the school as they all giggled and snickered amongst themselves, “Can you believe it? HE’S A FIFTH GRADER!” From that point on, “Sawyer and Gia” were a thing, but only on a first real crush level. He liked her. She liked him. It was the sweetest thing ever, and I GOT TO SEE HOW IT STARTED! Fast forward to THIS night, the middle school Fall Dance, and here’s how “the day of the ball on the playground ended” …
Williamson and I were chaperones at the dance this night, which is par for the course with us. It was just about over and a bunch of us parents were just kicking back on the outskirts of the party when one of the dads noticed a commotion wherein every kid in the room was engulfed in “some thing” on the dance floor that had everyone’s attention. So, that dad ran over and stuck his head through “the wall of kids” only to come running back and report that, “Holy shit guys, they’re dancing. THEY’RE DANCING!” “Who’s dancing”, Zack asked. “Umm, YOUR DAUGHTER AND SAWYER SMITH, that’s who!” From thence it’s just history. For the record, how lucky am I that no matter where this “first love of hers” either does or doesn’t go, I got to watch it from the beginning!
He is moving like a tremendous machine!
It was June 9, 1973. I was only four years old at the time and so far removed from anything to do with horses that it’s almost comical to think that through my daughter I, no, “we” as a family are now in the fledgling stages of this equestrian world. Meanwhile, today Gia and I watched Secretariat for at least the 20th time since we first saw it when she was four. In fact, it was the second movie we ever took her to together back when Williamson and I were still dating and I was slowly letting them get to know each other. This time was special, however, because of the tear jerker of a discussion we had that followed:
Momma, who does he remind you of?
Hmm? There are actually TWO people he reminds me of and I’ve ALWAYS thought it. I’m curious to hear if we think the same.
Well? Who’s the one man we know that no one had faith in? The one that no one believed in. The one that everyone said would be the worst thing that ever happened to us? The one they never saw coming? It’s daddy. He’s OUR Secretariat!
Gia, I’m so proud of you for making that correlation. I feel the same. Except, who ELSE do we still need to have faith in so HE can run HIS race?
BUBBA! That’s so true! But mom, there’s a third person I’m also thinking of.
Who?
YOU! Not a lot of people had much faith in YOU either. You’ve ALSO proven a lot of people wrong!
If there were just one moment in time I could travel back to and personally witness, it would be the Belmont Stakes when that TREMENDOUS machine defied every odd stacked against him and made a mockery of all the people drunk on SHAMpain in the crowd.
If you’ve never seen the movie or read about “The Horse That God Built”, do it! It’s so much more than just a movie about a horse. It’s the story of what can happen when one living creature truly believes in another and how faith can make miracles out of anyone. That’s what made OUR little family what it is today by the way … a miracle of FAITH! I’m so lucky to be surrounded by people I’ll never stop believing in as I watch them run their races with no reins!
This morning, my superhero obsessed daughter drew this picture of who I thought was Wonder Woman, only to find out it was a picture of me. She drew it after having written this unbelievable essay that I never even knew existed until today about how her favorite TV show led her to the SUPERNATURAL conclusion that the real superheroes in this world don’t actually wear capes. Rather, they wear the badge of honor that comes along with “hunting mental illness” and its very unpopular monsters.
What makes a hero? It is their immense strength, bravery, kindness, and selflessness. They inspire and save the lives of people for no other reason than to help. I found MY heroes because of a TV show that I had no clue would be as special as it is to me. By telling his story and launching a campaign giving support to those in need, Jared Padalecki, alongside Misha Collins and Jensen Ackles, have inspired thousands of people, and myself, to never give up, and to always keep fighting …
In March of 2015, Jared launched “Always Keep Fighting” with different T-Shirts with the slogan. All the money gained from the over 500,000 products sold were given to the charities To Write Love On Her Arms, The Wounded Warrior Project and Attitudes In Reverse – Student Suicide Prevention. Later, he gave the reason for him starting the campaign in the first place. That previous New Year’s Eve, one of Jared’s best friends lost his battle with depression. Jared stated that this was not the first time he had lost a personal friend to suicide. Using this new campaign, he said that he hoped “that this campaign, while raising money for a wonderful charity, can also raise awareness about issues that affect more people than we know. I hope it inspires people battling depression, addiction, mental illness, and suicidal thoughts to be vocal about their struggles. I hope it helps people realize that they shouldn’t be ashamed of what they are going through, and I hope it helps people meet and find new friends that they can relate to. I hope it helps people take pride in the fight that they have been fighting, and gives them a push to never give up or give in. I hope it helps inspire people to keep fighting. no matter how hard it is.” Through his actions, he showed a level of kindness and compassion that is superhuman. Later, however, he reveals something that gives the “Always Keep Fighting” Campaign an entirely different depth.
Living with an invisible mental illness requires an immense amount of strength and bravery. I have witnessed firsthand the kind of wear and tear it can do (and yes, there is a REAL “super hero” in this regard I am lucky enough to call my mom). Opening up to the public, to millions of people that you have suffered through the same battles as the people you are fighting for? That requires unbelievable bravery. Jared did just that. He said how he has suffered from anxiety and depression. He said that he did not understand why he would be depressed. “It kind of hit me like a sack of bricks,” Jared told reporters. “I mean, I was 25 years old. I had my own TV show. I had dogs that I loved, and tons of friends and I was getting adoration from fans, and I was happy with my work, but I couldn’t figure out what it was; it doesn’t always make sense is my point. It’s not just people who can’t find a job or can’t fit in in society that struggle with depression sometimes.” Misha Collins, a best friend, and co-star of Jared, also suffered in the same way that many fans and readers alike have. Misha had been self-harming for years. Since he was only around 12 or 13 years old. Misha won his battle. He stopped cutting himself and started loving himself. Later, he and his co-star/best friend Jensen Ackles started something of their own.
On February 12, 2016, Jensen and Misha launched the You Are Not Alone fundraising T-shirt Campaign with T-shirts that used the slogan “You Are Not Alone”. The SPNFamily Crisis Support Network has been established by Jensen and Misha in partnership with Random Acts, TWLOHA, and IMAlive. This project created an online support network to help fans cope with mental health issues such as depression, self-injury, and addiction and included training for fan volunteers who wish to be crisis responders in their spare time, provided immediate access to support lifelines for fans in crisis, and local community resources for those needing additional support or information. Together, they save lives and create warriors in the process. They have shown people that there are people who care about them. They save lives as any hero should.
Through words and actions, they have shown far more than bravery, courage, and compassion. Just like the ‘S’ on Superman’s chest, what they have done means hope for people. On February 9th, Misha Collins, who plays Castiel, on Supernatural, posted a video on his social media accounts. Misha’s message? He told his fans without speaking that they’re not alone. To people outside of the Supernatural fandom, this video may not seem like much. But to people who know Misha, to people who watch him every week on The CW, these four words, “you are not alone” mean so much more. Fans see that the actors that they look up to and love not only care about them but believe in them. They continue also to bring the three-word sentence, “always keep fighting”, up fairly often, constantly reminding their fans to not give up.
“Jared, Jensen and Misha”. To people not in the fandom or the people who simply don’t know who they are, these names may mean nothing. I promise you, however, that these names have meant life for thousands of people, mine included. They have not only saved lives, but taught people how to save lives themselves. To look around, at complete strangers, and help those who are struggling, and make sure that they win their fight. They have created an army that fights the demons that live in all of our hearts and minds. An army that is fighting every day for one another.
Jared, Jensen and Misha have saved thousands of lives, mine included. Day after day they continue to save people. Jared Padalecki, alongside Misha Collins and Jensen Ackles, have inspired thousands of people, and me, to never give up, and to always keep fighting. They have taught us that no matter what happens, what we do, WE KEEP GOING! No matter how much we want to give up on anything, little or small, we will refuse to stop. Most importantly, they have taught us that even if we think we have met our match and can’t go on, we will get up and fight harder than ever. We can go on because we are enough, we are not alone, and we have a family of people we have never met, who love us and understand us. Who live their lives loving and helping complete strangers? Thanks to these three men. As Jared said, “Even if there are a thousand small fights, even if every other minute you’re thinking about suicide, or depression, or addiction, or if you have a mental illness, I want people to hit it head on and take action. And to be proud that they’re winning their fight, period.” We must always keep fighting`!
{Written by Gia Embach}
… and yet another lightbulb moment! Or rather, should I say, lightening bolt moment? While scrolling social media this morning, I stumbled across this illustration (ownership unknown). Upon closer inspection, I all but jumped out of my skin as I headed frantically to an old box of drawings I’d sketched throughout my late teens and early twenties, which for those of you who didn’t already know, was the beginning of my outward struggle with a debilitating mental illness. As I scrambled through that dusty box, the memories literally flooded me. I couldn’t help but feel that I’d sketched something hauntingly similar to the image I’d just seen on the feed. Then? BAM! There it was at the bottom of the box …
I have given birth to three children in this lifetime. First, there was my Christian, “the other pea in my pod“, to wit it’s no big secret to the handful of people who know us both well that we are actually one in the same. Born into similar worlds of contingent based relationships where our overall human value was merely as good as we could ever be. No deeds, words, behaviors, or actions were ever quite good enough for any consistent or unconditional favor, and both forgiveness and grace had to be earned. We have the same shattered hearts, same missing pieces, and heard virtually the same less than optimal words from our fathers repeatedly, creating the sick, dark, lonely chasms deeply engrained within each of our souls. On the surface? Both Christian and I appeared to have it all and to have been given everything we could have needed for success in our seemingly picture-perfect childhoods and adolescences. If only that were true. It’s not as easy as you would think to get out there and fly with burnt and mangled wings.
Next, there was the little one who passed go, but never collected the $200 before her tiny little feet hit the board. She was both the greatest gift and greatest tragedy of my life, wrapped softly in a yellow blanket and sent straight back Home in angel’s wings. Still, even with an often daily struggle with the hole in my heart that belongs to her, I must admit that there have been days that I’ve thanked God that He took her out of here before the pain and struggle of simply “existing” became her any longer than the few short hours she spent here.
Then, there was my Gia. The pièce de ré·sis·tance light of my life, and the very reason I finally found the courage some ten plus years ago to begin the arduous task of ripping the infamous Venom suit desperately off my sick and worn out mind and body once and for all.
My two living children have been raised in virtually polar opposite environments. Well, for the most part. As was the case was for me, my son spent what were supposed to be the most innocent and carefree years of his life with a malignant array of “little toy guns” filled with hate, shame, anger, guilt and rage all but spat directly into his once unscarred and trusting heart and cemented permanently into his psyche. My daughter, on the other hand, once and finally removed from the cyclically toxic environment I bore her to, has, for the most part, had two healthy parents in the home in which we’ve dwelled since Zack came into our lives. No hate. No shame. No anger. No guilt. No rage being spewed into the depths of her heart. At least not on our watch! In this home, there are not one, not two, but three human beings who are cherished. Human lives that are treasured. Precious emotions, feelings, vulnerabilities, weaknesses, and differences that are validated, if not celebrated when possible.
With that, although the ultimate damage and survival reports are yet to be determined, it does appear that Gia is faring much better thus far as a result of the healthy words and ideals that are filling her mind by the driving forces in her life. Emotional and verbal assaults from parent to child are the crippling cause of a wide variety of adult mental illnesses and psyches, and from what I can tell you from my own experience watching two different children being raised in two totally different environments? Children do learn what they live! So please, if you are reading this, be careful what you are spewing into your babies’ ears. You only get one shot to fill those precious minds of theirs with hope, optimism and the potential for a lifetime of grace, not just for others, but themselves as well.
Can you guess what the saddest part of this drawing of mine from 29 years ago is? Looks like I clearly had all this information within me before I even realized it, and what a fool I was not to heed my inner voice LONG before I finally did. Thankfully, because of my daughter AND my son, I finally found the courage to walk away from a childhood filled with “all the words I never needed to hear” and likewise a former marriage filled with the same. In true phoenix style I took hold of my little girl and lifted her out of not only my endless sea of madness and mountains of ashes, but as many future ashes of her own I could possibly foresee. Here’s hoping my Gia will be the first emotionally wealthy person to have grown from the twisted branches she came from only to find an equally healthy man to fill both hers and their children’s ears with only the most beautiful “words”.
This was written by my Mona Lisa, battle born, “Phoenix Collaborative” daughter, unbeknownst to me, until it was revealed the day after one of the most bittersweet days of my life, December 25, 2019. Perhaps the greatest irony here is that I have long been fixated with the ill-fated “Flight Of Icarus” and his toxic relationship with his father, as evidenced here with this drawing of mine, Circa 1990, from the “32 Sketches“. This glimpse into the burning embers and fire in her soul have become one of the greatest gifts I’ve ever received.
Someday my gift will be your gift. By that I mean my gift unto this world. The divinely punctuated Light I’ve sought so desperately to find in this otherwise very dark place will live out loud through her. She’s the culmination of every one of my failings, disgraces, accomplishments, and achievements, and the truth behind all the lies I’ve searched so hard to find. She’s my diamond encrusted tiara legacy and yet another phoenix rising.
… when it’s been 3,760 days since you shed your skin and had the epiphany that changed everything in front of a fountain in a tiny hilltop village in France and you’re finally headed there with the love of your life to show him the very you were standing when it happened!
This day of the tour is exactly why he brought me here and I literally have butterflies in my stomach! Everything in my heart and life changed instantly and I am so thankful he wants to see the place I’ve been telling him about for nine long years! This is actually the second time I’ve used this song here in The Diary, by the way!
There’s a place in your heart nobody’s been. Take me there. Things nobody knows, not even your friends. Take me there. Tell me ’bout your mama, your daddy, your hometown, show me around. I wanna see it all, don’t leave anything out. I wanna know everything about you then. And I wanna go down every road you’ve been. Where your hopes and dreams and wishes live. Where you keep the rest of your life hid. I wanna know the girl behind that pretty stare. Take me there. Your first real kiss, your first true love. You were scared, show me where you learned about life, spent your summer nights. Without a care. I wanna roll down Main Street, the back roads. Like you did when you were a kid. What made you who you are? Tell me what your story is.
{Rascal Flatts}
Ten years ago, you boarded a plane to France with so much more baggage than what you’d actually packed you could barely walk, much less carry the load you’d allowed yourself to be burdened with for too many years to count. Until the moment your feet hit this soil, you’d perpetuated a lifelong farce to everyone you knew and loved, not the least of which was yourself.
Your life back then was an apparition filled with all the shiniest things a person could possess and the appearance of a picture-perfect family completely in sync with each other on every possible level. Little did you know that ten days later when that plane finally landed back in Dallas that “you” weren’t on it and would never be coming home again.
Meanwhile, all in the course of a relatively short jaunt, you met two complete and total strangers. Remember how you believed they were actual angels God had set on your path to help you begin the process of becoming acquainted with the other stranger you’d met on that trip – you? One of these days you should be brave enough to introduce those two strangers from your past and really speak your truths by the way, so consider this your official challenge!
At the end of the day, what I can tell you is that I find it no coincidence that you are back here in France, a decade later, celebrating your birthday with not only this amazing man who has brought you so much sweet joy and fullness that your words since meeting him have failed to find their way to paper, but more importantly – with YOU!
Everything has changed since the last time you were here and your life is unrecognizable! Your feet hit that soil with a steadfast determination to stop living a lie and start living an authentic life you could be proud of with the REAL you, no matter the cost, and cost you it did. How could you ever have known that despite your best efforts to salvage the life and relationships you already had, in order to see your resurrection to fruition you’d end up having to let so many things and people go? So, you became a living bomb that self-destructed during the process of peeling off that venomous black Spidey suit you’d been wearing all the while that had all but suffocated the life from you.
I’d like to think that if you could change this last ten years you wouldn’t have changed a thing, as in my heart I think you’ve always known that all of this had to happen for a reason. You found yourself. You found your voice … and your truths … and your many reasons. You know exactly who you are, how you got here, what things you’ve done right, and the many things you could have done better. You’re a perfectly imperfect beautiful disaster and perhaps a bit much for some people digest. You are YOU, nothing more, NOTHING LESS, and “what other people think of you isn’t any of your business anyway.” You’re a survivor, and a warrior, and a divinely appointed living QUEEN, and a true and genuine person. As long as your two babies back at home and that superman standing behind you in one of your favorite places on this Earth think that you’re their hero, who could ask for a better birthday present? HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME, Catherine Marie Williamson! It’s been so nice getting to know you.
🐸 3,286 days have passed since the first time you said “I love you”.
🐸 3,054 days have passed since the night you gave me your heart, a little silver band, and a promise of the best life any man could provide.
🐸 3,055 days have passed since my daughter and I moved into your 600 square foot apartment in Fairview after my father said these words to you:
You’re a loser who will never amount to anything and you’ll NEVER be my son in law. MY son in law lives there!
… then he pointed out the back window to the very beautiful house I’d long since left behind and was never going back to.)
🐸 Countless days have passed since our story began that you still never cease to amaze me! You are still my hero, and if we had to go back to that tiny little apartment in Fairview, I would happily go. I could live anywhere, as long as you’re there. It’s not about the “house”, it’s about the “home”. You’re the prince among men who has continued to give us EVERYTHING, and I’m so damn thankful and proud to be your wife!
Never again, never give in, never give in. Never again, never give in, never give in. I wouldn’t wish this on just anyone, but you seem to share my impulse. I wouldn’t take this from just anyone, but you seem to like the result. I’ll connect the dots and you can tell me when to stop. I’d rather keep on going than be something that I’m not. We’re creatures of habit, we can’t live without it. We don’t have to answer to anyone. We’re chasing the rabbit, like creatures of habit, and no one else knows where we’re coming from. And nothing’s ever gonna change, ’cause I ain’t gonna run away. There’s no need to panic, ’cause you’re just as tragic. We’re creatures of habit, we don’t have to answer to anyone. I’m not amused by just anything, but under the circumstances (never again, never give in)! You be the recluse. I will defend you when you’ve used up all your chances. I’ll connect the dots and you can tell me when to stop. I’d rather keep on going than be something that I’m not. We’re creatures of habit, we can’t live without it. We don’t have to answer to anyone. We’re chasing the rabbit, like creatures of habit, and no one else knows where we’re coming from. And nothing’s ever gonna change, ’cause I ain’t gonna run away. There’s no need to panic, ’cause you’re just as tragic. We’re creatures of habit, we don’t have to answer to anyone. {Shinedown}
I heard this song for the first time today and it literally punched me in face. Stung me. Broke me. Leveled me. DEVOURED ME! Well, almost. While I was certain I understood the message being conveyed, I did some digging and found this on a Shinedown lyrics page:
Creatures is the progression of a person from dark to light, is the first part of the actual transition. This is where the person begins to shed all of the negativity that has held them in such a dark emotional state, breaking free from the human nature and animal instincts we all have that keeps us trapped, repeating the same mistakes.
EXACTLY! It was as though She were singing it to me Herself – my very best friend and nemesis, who for more than half my life, literally tried to murder me: The Dragon that was blocking my Light! Ironically, it was ten years ago this month when I finally set my tired feet upon the most unforgiving battlefield of my life: “Me v. Her” …
I never thought I would be one of those women who let an eating disorder control every aspect of their lives and I certainly don’t believe in “statistics”. I’ve known long well that none of this was ever about the food, but rather, some pathetic attempt to continually purge myself of a lifetime of shame, guilt and rage. It was about some sick sense of order I thought I was maintaining over the contradiction which had become “me”: My Rules; My Choices; My Food; My Control! (Or so I thought!)
{“In The Light“}
I cannot tell you how many times I’ve been asked what it was like living with an eating disorder, but my words always failed me:
But, Cat, why didn’t you just stop doing it? Why WOULD you even do it? You’ve always looked so fit and healthy.
Umm, that’s not quite how it works, but did you know that effing BITCH could have killed me? Whether it’s attempting to mutilate your physical body, or the creatures living in your mind, as far as I’m concerned, eating disorders are nothing less than passive attempts at suicide, and the words to this song say it all.
For the record, it’s never really “over”! I am here to tell you that eating disorders have no cure – only quiet remission. Even as healthy as I’ve become, She has never actually left me, nor do I think She ever will. As is par for the course with any addiction dragon a human can face – be it drugs, alcohol, food, or even toxic relationships I just say She’s dormant now and lying in wait for the rest of my life, such that I must always take care not to awaken her. In the meantime, I remain eternally humbled and grateful that I somehow managed to survive her and am alive today to tell you about it. Besides, my Mona Lisa is watching all of this, and I will not rest until she is battle born and ready to fight dragons of her own!
“The day of the Spic and Spann” was the day I began to despise myself and the dark brown skin I wore, and dare I remember the countless hours of my youth spent in a bathtub crying secretly to myself while literally trying to erase my beautiful color with my mom’s kitchen pot scrubbers!
(“The Day Of The Spic & Spann“)
… because after a first half of a lifetime being ashamed of the tone of my skin then finally learning to love it, I figured it was about time that I figured out exactly how I got it! I couldn’t be more proud of the results. Not only did I discover how deep my Italian roots run to the region close to Pompei, which in and of itself has recently become an even greater source of pride than I could possibly have ever imagined, but also, that the ancestral connection to the Hopi Native American tribe in my blood that my Grandma Mary had always mentioned is likely very true.
One hundred years have gone and men again they came that way to find the answer to the mystery. They found his body lying where it fell on that day, preserved in time for all to see. What became of the man that started? All are gone and their souls departed.
{“Strangers In A Strange Land“}
So, with that …. ME! It’s ME! I’m what became of “the man that started” my ancestral tree!
And just like that, the mystery of how I became the fierce SURVIVOR I am is solved! It’s in my blood and the STUNNINGLY beautiful brown tones of the Latin and Mediterranean skin I used to try and scrub off in shame!
With that, here’s a little shout out to any and all it may concern regarding the color of either my or anyone else’s skin:
Pardon me, but, my epidermis is showing! I’m sure you couldn’t help but notice my gorgeous shade of melanin! I tip my hat to my colorful arrangement, ’cause I see the beauty in all the tone of my skin! I’m a colored people and I live in a tainted place. I’m a colored people and they call me the human race. I’ve got a history so full of mistakes, but I’m a colored people who depends on His holy grace. This piece of canvas, “me”, is only the beginning. I take on character with every loving stroke! A thing of beauty who’s the passion of an Artist’s heart … by God’s design, I’m in cosmic skin kaleidoscope!
{“Colored People” Words Adapted}
From Seattle to Victoria and all the way right back – and we even got bring mom! Not only was it one of THE most epic adventures of a lifetime, but it’s one we’ll definitely repeat! This was Zack’s baby … not mine! The funny thing is, when he ever first pitched me “a 10-day Alaskan cruise” – I ALMOST HIT THE FLOOR! Nooo husband – NOOOO! Umm, hello? HAVE YA MET ME? You know I don’t like boats … you know I terrified of the ocean … you know I’m “pretty sure” I don’t like Alaska … AND I CERTAINLY DON’T LIKE FISH! So, what are ya doin’ to me here Williamson? Lol! Meanwhile, can I just say this? Oh, wait, I think I just did! This was THE most epic trip of a lifetime, and one we will DEFINITELY keep repeating!
Of note, of all the beautiful pictures that were taken on this wonderous voyage of ours, perhaps the favorite one of all was THIS of me and the boss! It was the last night of the cruise and Gia snapped it without us knowing! We didn’t even find it until we got back home the next day and it literally reduced me to tears! Cama-ihi, Alaska!
Nineteen years have literally flown by with tears and sorrow, joys and laughter, and an abundance of beautiful moments in between. But I vividly remember waking up about this time that morning, alone in the room that was “ours” less than 12 hours before, yet, where was he? I was literally pinching myself because I couldn’t decide whether I was still asleep in a twisted dream or awake in a living nightmare. Then I remembered where he was – laying on a cold metal table in the ER where I had to leave him. So, I slid out of the bed and put my ear towards the door to see if I could hear what the muffled voices awaiting my rise from a medicated slumber were saying. I walked towards the window and peaked through the blinds to find a beautiful day with a light wind blowing leaves down the sidewalk. A kid on his bike. A car driving by. A lady walking her dog. Everything outside seemed so normal. But then again, not so much. So how did I get here all these years later? Well that will all be revealed in this Diary in good time. In the meantime, however, let me tell you about one of the sweetest moments of my life that would never have happened be it not for “this day”, September 6, 2012.
First, let’s go back to nine years before when Williamson and I first met. This was at the very darkest point of my life, yet he somehow saw through the jacked up, broken apart, just about to come undone “me” that I was, only to find and believe in the “me” that I was yet to become. He refused to give up on me and somehow convinced himself that there was so much more to me than met his eyes. Eventually he even convinced me.
In the early days of our budding relationship, we of course shared all the memories of our pasts. “Take Me There” by Rascal Flatts was the theme of almost all our conversations, as we both truly wanted to know exactly where the other had been. He told me his stories and I told him mine, not the least of which was Mitch, beginning to bittersweet end, May 29, 1998.
There he sat patiently listening one night, not a detail barred or spared, up to and including the intersection where it happened. He had driven out with me to Addison soon thereafter to see the wall and the place and the road. He wanted to know all of it – all of ME.
I had driven to Addison to pick him up for lunch near the place he’d been working. We’d taken a wrong turn going back to his office which somehow spit us out a block away from “the wall”. When I looked up and saw the Midway Road sign I quickly realized where we were. Queue the live video all over again: There goes Mitch on that devil black bike speeding off to his final blaze of glory! But before I knew it Zack had taken my hand with a tender squeeze, “Damn, this is the place”. He remembered. After all this time, HE STILL REMEMBERED.
Just then, the video stopped just short of the less than grand finale, and the knot in my stomach unraveled. I looked at my beautiful husband and thanked God yet again that he chose to make me his wife. It was also in that moment that I was reminded of something else: I am no longer alone to carry all these memories and moving pictures that are locked inside my mind. How many men could live with and accept the ghost of someone before him? The memories of my past are precious to my husband, and he carefully protects and embraces all of them. Even the memories of “him”! There is a sacred piece of my heart and life that will ALWAYS belong to Mitch Boone and Zack has never once held that against me.
What a sharp contrast this pivotal point in our story was to another day in a former life with my ex: It was the two-year anniversary of Mitch’s death when Peter and I were fighting about God knows what. It bothered him immensely to see me grieving for someone else, and although I really did try to shield him from my pain, sometimes I just couldn’t contain it. So, on that day? He had had it! “Your MY wife! He’s GONE! Yet you’re still crying about it?” So, he took two pot lids from the kitchen and smashed them together as loud as he could standing two feet away from my body and said,
I’ll give you something to cry about. Remember THIS sound? BAM! Metal hitting a wall! How’s that? Now go ahead, just keep crying!
Yes, he really did that, and yes, he really said those words. I remember that moment as though it just happened now. He took my raw and bruised heart and accompanying pain and sorrow and mocked me with them in one of the cruelest moments of my life.
I’m such a blessed woman and thank you GOD for reminding me of how much You love me through the gift of Zack’s unconditional love and strength. I love you, Zachariah … more than I’ll ever be able to put in words. Thank you for loving me. No, wait! Thank you for loving us. You are my hero and I will spend the rest of my days on this Earth honoring and treasuring everything you are. I promise!
Every now and then, I will hear or see certain words strung together that hit me like a ton of bricks. By this, I mean really words that strike me so hard that I just know I’ll be repeating them for the remainder of my life and hopefully passing them down through my kids.
Your Crazy Grandma Cat used to say …
Take for instance the day someone showed me those “Four Agreements“. Now, those were some impeccable words. I live, breathe, and will die by them, by the way, and sometimes even make a mockery of them. Regardless of how far I’ve come thus far in my mental wealth and growth journey, I’m still just an extremely perfectly flawed human after all.
Well, today, IT HAPPENED! A friend and I were watching our daughters play volleyball and talking about that good ole Devil’s boomerang called karma. Of course, we’d both pointed out the painfully obvious: “What goes around comes around … blah, blah, blah.” But then she said this:
People only think of karma in the form of bad things coming after bad, but I believe that karma also works in reverse. Good will always come after good given time.
I have long believed that perspective is everything, and today, my lifelong perspective on “karma” took a turn for the best day EVER! Karma can curse you … but karma can also bless you. It is my hope that Karma will only continue to bless me, mine, and any of you who are reading this.
This morning was a SUPER early day for me, as most Fridays usually are being a full-time mother, full-time housewife, a full-time real estate agent. Since Fridays are in essence my “Mondays”, my alarm goes off at 4:30am, I pop up like a Jack-In-The-Box, hop out of bed, start the coffee and spin around like a manic robot getting everything and everyone ready and dealt with ahead of what are usually very hectic weekends in our household. Trust me when I say that I am not complaining, because I thoroughly love every one of my jobs and am blessed beyond words to have them! My adoring husband is ever so appreciative that I’ve somehow found a way to balance my career and our family in such a way that everything runs smoothly, and I’ve created a peaceful environment for them to come home to despite my organized chaos. I am also desperately hoping that I am, in all things, showing my daughter that yes, she can have and do it all if she so chooses, and this is how: Eat, sleep, pray, breathe, cry a little, laugh a lot, sing loud in the car, smile as much as possible, participate when you can, don’t bite off more than you can chew, LEARN TO SAY NO WHEN NECESSARY and thank God for everything all the while. (Being grateful eight days a week, 366 days a year is my other full-time job hee hee!) For the most part I am a very happy girl with a kind, patient, loving heart filled with enough “everything” for everyone in my atmosphere. I live my life by “The Four Agreements” and this is how I roll.
Every Friday for the last eight years, we have faithfully patroned a small, family-owned dry-cleaning business on the far southeast side of the town that we live in because they are fairly priced and do a good job, but even more so because we are just loyal that way. Meanwhile, once a week I pull through the window and go out of my way to be kind to this woman who is usually wearing a scowl, throwing or slamming stuff around, or barking out orders to the others that are behind the counter. And so, I watch. And think. And wonder. “Hmmm, maybe I’ll kill her with kindness today”, or “maybe she’s had a rough morning”, or “maybe she’s not a morning person at all”, or “maybe she’s really stressed-out Cat, so tell her to have a good day and go on about your business! AGREEMENT NO. 2: DON’T ANYTHING PERSONALLY! Her nasty attitude is about HER, not YOU!” But today something changed, and my otherwise patient demeanor snapped and took a turn for the worse!
I have always taken the time to untangle, organize and neatly twist-tie the hangers then place them at the bottom of the basket for return with the next week’s clothes, a practice I started many years ago when I had actually gone inside their store rather than drive-thru on a morning I was bringing comforters in. On that particular day I’d been standing and waiting while watching one of the girls at the counter feverishly detangling the massive pile of hangers others had returned as well, so with that I thought it would be a nice gesture to organize mine ahead of time. This morning, however, was the first time in years that I didn’t take the time to do that, which, I actually did feel bad about for a split second. But today of all days was slated to be straight from Hell, so I just shoved everything in the bag as quickly as I could and loaded the car for whatever the day might possibly bring.
You see, there is a little stress in our home this last couple of months. Nothing we won’t get through of course, because God IS so good, but stress nonetheless there is. Let’s see, I have a deeply hurting if not troubled child that I am desperately trying to keep from falling into his own oblivion, an uncle in Florida just days away from meeting The Maker, eleven live real estate transactions going at once, a husband with DOZENS of live real estate transactions going at once and a jacked up knee that needs surgery, a dog that won’t stop peeing on everything, a Bad Cat that keeps running away, a Good Cat who won’t stop crying and starving herself when the other is gone, a very socially active daughter wrapping up her last weeks of elementary school who is also playing volleyball, a house to keep up with, four peoples’ laundry to do, 300 miles a week of driving, my physical fitness to keep up with, and oh yes – this particular Memorial Day weekend marks the 19th anniversary of the night a man I was supposed to marry met HIS Maker by running his Harley through a brick wall going 90mph with no helmet. Yah, I’d say I am really kind of sad and emotional this week. I haven’t slept much, am functioning on pretty much coffee and faith alone, and I have an anxiety stomachache nearly all the time because I’m so afraid to let one of the 27 balls I currently have in the air fall on the ground and thus me right along with it (and also maybe because of the coffee)!
Dear Dry-Cleaning Lady:
I, too, was in a foul mood this morning! But guess what? I still managed to smile at you and took the time to ask how you were?
Who wants to know what she said to me when I asked the question, “Good morning dear, how are you?” She literally BARKED back at me, “Well thanks for not untangling the hangers for me!” And nope, it wasn’t friendly banter! She was literally mad that I didn’t untangle the hangers. Now what?
Well, I’ll tell you “now what”. I’m so done with not only that dry cleaner lady but likewise anyone in my life who does not treat me or mine with the equal amounts of kindness and respect with which I treat them. These last few months have been a reckoning of my soul, my strength, my will, and the personal boundaries I need to keep firmly in place going forward if I am going to survive without bitterness. I will not be spoken to harshly. I will not be treated rudely. I will not be disregarded, or unappreciated, or taken for granted. No more. Never again! “We treat and value others as we wish to be treated and valued or we lose them.” When I drove away from the window I kept my calm, and simply said to her, “See you next Tuesday dear!” Only she won’t be seeing any of these Williamsons again, and I’m damned sure she didn’t understand the horribly cryptic message I was sending.
As My Cousin Vinny once said, “I’M DONE WITH THAT GUY”! And yup, I’m so done with all those guys (and girls). Life is too short to spend my good energy or precious time in the BULLSHIT company of miserable, toxic people. – The End
I wasn’t sure if I was going to share this, because I honestly didn’t want to make anyone sad. After all, no one likes a Debbie downer, and at first glance, this precious treasure of mine may lead some to think, “OMG, how sad”. Let me to explain …
Our daughter had her friends here for a sleepover recently. Giggles and silliness ensued above our bedroom, which we did not mind in the least. Those sounds of silliness are not only music to our ears but even more so a sign that we must be doing something right! We’ve always said that we want our home to be where our daughter and her friends want to be. (Much like those days so very long ago raising my Christian that I fondly recall very similar sounds of boys camped happily at my home. They were “my boys” too, and some still are to this day, but I digress.) When kids cross our threshold they are welcomed, embraced, esteemed, heard, respected, validated, loved and cared for as if they were our own. For us? It’s the highest of honors: “The house full of silly girls”. But oh how I’ve digressed …
That night it was storming terribly. Pouring rain, crashing thunder, cracks of lightening and even some hail. Williamson and I were settled down in our room watching a movie while the girls upstairs were engaged in some pretty serious shenanigans. One hellacious “BAM” of thunder and lightning and our peaceful movie night quickly turned into a slumber party in our room! There we were surrounded by two cats, a trembling dog, then within seconds of hearing eight little feet trampling down the stairway, four 11-year-olds who jumped onto our bed. “Guess what, you’re stuck with us now people, bwa ha ha ha ha!” Of course, this was to be expected and perfectly okay. Soon, they were all giggling and wouldn’t shut up, so Williamson hit the pause button and we just let them do their thing!
It was all fun and games, until that is, one of the girls who hadn’t been in our bedroom before noticed a tiny dress I have displayed in a curio along with many other keepsakes and trinkets that were either gifts pending a long-awaited arrival or keepsakes given in remembrance of a brief and bittersweet life . You see, it’s “her shelf” – my daughter Gina Marie, the miniscule human who was given to share her time with me for only a matter of hours. Some day when I’m ready I will share her story in greater expanse, but for now what I can say is this …
Amid the giggles the girl noticing the dress immediately jumped out of the bed and ran to the cabinet.
Miss Cat, what is that little dress for and whose little footprints are those?
Ugh. My heart all but seized as I contemplated what to say so that her innocent young mind could understand. But before I could find the words one of the other girls who had already seen the dress and knew all about our Gina interjected:
That’s an exact copy of the dress Gia’s sister was buried in when she died. It’s a doll dress and it’s so tiny because the baby was only ‘this big’ (as she cupped her hands together). She was born and died before Gia, so even though she was itty bitty, technically she was her big sister. Those are all the gifts Miss Cat was given when she was pregnant with her and then after she died and it’s all very special to her. And those footprints? They were the little baby’s. That’s how itty bitty her real little feet were.
As the girls continued talking amongst themselves my husband quickly grabbed my hand for the quick three squeeze “I love you”. He was certain I was crumbling inside, and worried for what may be going on in my mind, but strangely, that was not the case. I was intrigued. As we continued to listen intently to a heavy conversation between the girls, they were soon sharing stories and memories of not only their own births, but those of their siblings as well. Can I just say that my words alone are not enough to express the amount of love and tenderness in that room on an otherwise dreary night? They were connecting. Bonding. Sharing. Feeling. Listening. Caring. It brought such an intense warmth and peace to my body that my skin was almost tingling.
But that wasn’t even the best part of this story. At one point, the girl who had noticed the dress and thus sparked the conversation literally burst into sobbing tears. She had connected what happened with my daughter to a sibling her own mother had evidently lost by miscarriage before she was born, which, as you can imagine, troubled her very deeply. But then, she looked at me and said these unbelievable words:
Miss Cat, I am really, really sorry that happened to you. You must have been so sad. It must have been so hard for you to hold your tiny baby in your arms and watch her just go away.
HER little heart was aching for me … I could see it in her eyes … and Gia, too, was becoming so viscerally emotional that we could all clearly see that she was breaking. One of the girls noticed and gently placed her hand on her back to comfort her, while the other girl was comforting the sobbing one.
Gia, we are so sorry for you too. But your sister is like an angel now and we wouldn’t have you if that horrible thing didn’t happen to your family. Right Miss Cat?
Then, my Gia, my powerful, graceful, and beautiful “Mona Lisa“, spoke these most unbelievable words:
Don’t be sad for my mom you guys, she is the strongest and bravest woman I know. She believes that every single thing, person and moment in this life happens for a reason, even when my sister died, but instead of letting it destroy her, it made her even stronger. My mother trusts God a lot and my sister’s tiny dress and footprints make her smile, not cry, because they’re a reminder that she was here. Right mom?
And with that, I was stunned and speechless in all the best ways possible, because in that moment I realized that through “the dress” not only is my baby’s tiny little life remembered to have existed, but even more so than that, it DID mean something significant to someone other than just myself. To those girls who have seen it, Gina Marie’s “angel dress” is a lesson in faith and “life … no matter how small”, and of course, an example of how grownups can survive after tragedy and loss.
This meme popped up on my feed today and then washed across my soul, because if I’ve learned anything on this blessed and broken road, it’s this: It’s not our outward appearances that make us either ugly or beautiful … IT’S OUR SOULS THAT DO!
Perhaps you’ve already ready my second post, “SUMMER OF 1979: “Under My Scars“, where in a singular moment, a very cruel girl who didn’t even know my name called me a “spic” in front of a gymnasium full of my peers and literally changed the direction of my life and self-esteem forever. You see, I was born in Rhode Island, where the darker, olive toned skins were the norm and my Native American / Italian coloring blended right in with everyone else’s.
“The day of the Spic and Spann” was the day I began to despise myself and the dark brown skin I wore, and dare I remember the countless hours of my youth spent in a bathtub crying secretly to myself while literally trying to erase my beautiful color with my mom’s kitchen pot scrubbers!
Meanwhile, here I am forty years later, and yes, I’ve finally made peace with the reflection I see in the mirror, the one that had gone missing during so many points of my life and during the darkest years of my life disappeared completely. No matter how hard I tried I just couldn’t find my image or paint the picture of myself I so desperately needed to connect with
Well those days are over and guess what? As it turns out, I’m pretty freaking gorgeous! And no, I’m not being vein, let me just promise you that! I’m talking about who I really am! Inside. Outside. Brown skin. Tired skin. Worn skin. Inked up skin. Thick days. Skinny days. Happy days. Sad days. Grieving days. Angry days. “Damn, guess I screwed THAT up pretty good, but oh well, the world didn’t end, so I’ll just have to forgive myself now and get over it!” kind of days.
The scars under my skin eventually became the catalyst for all of the best parts of who I am … beautifully and wondrously formed … and I couldn’t be any prouder of either my scars or my skin if I tried! They delightfully shroud a fiercely courageous yet delicately empathetic soul that is connected to every point of light I’ve intersected with. I am perfectly imperfect, and so are we ALL “beautiful disasters” in our own right. Beauty truly is in the eye of The Beholder my friends, and any eyes judging our books based solely on their covers do not deserve to read them!
That girl from way back then? Her name was Lisa, and wow did she miss out on getting to know one hell of a super cool chic. I have long since forgiven her for all the years those careless words of hers carved from deepest parts of my psyche, and if I ever see her again, perhaps I should even thank her. In the meantime, that ignorant CUNT of a “mean girl” would have been Jean-Claude Van DAMN lucky to have had the privilege and HONOR of knowing me! Little did she or any of those dumb fucks know that one day I’d grow up to be a living queen, “a divine apostrophe“, and God’s actual favorite daughter.
Paint yourself a picture of what you wish you looked like. Maybe then they just might feel an ounce of your pain. Come into focus. Step out of the shadows. It’s a losing battle. There’s no need to be ashamed. ‘Cause they don’t even know you, all they see is scars. They don’t see the angel living in your heart. Let them find the real you buried deep within. Let them know with all you’ve got that you are not your skin. And when they start to judge you, show them your true colors and do on to others as you’d have done to you. Just rise above this. Kill them with your kindness. Ignorance is blindness. They’re the ones that stand to lose. {Sixx AM}
Nine years ago, at the very beginning of my tailspin to the end of my old life and rise to where I am today, I was asked to read a book that was intended to help me make peace with the death of my daughter and other tragedies I thought I’d never survive. Well, it literally did jar everything in my soul, and yes, it has helped me cope with not just losing her, the bittersweet reality of losing anyone I love at all.
Throughout my journey as a parent, however, I have also come to realize that indeed, it is true, that a mother is only as strong as her weakest child. As such, I have been burdened with the often hopeless feeling of trying to reach my son way down deep in his soul where he’s been hiding for too many years to count. I have literally prayed on my hands and knees that this book would someday become a movie I could take him to in an attempt to crack the hardened shell that has become his safe fortress and plant the seeds of a renewed faith in God within his jaded heart.
Well, today is the day, folks. Tonight, as a family, we are going to see The Shack! Maybe this will jar something loose for him just as it did for me in 2008.
My Dearest Catherine,
From the moment I met you I knew you were special I just did not know HOW special you were and how special and important you would become to me. I can honestly say that you have shown me the best that life has to offer despite our problems, issues we have had had and things we have done and said. I know it can get even better than it has ever been. I know I don’t verbalize it enough but I really do think overall that you are an incredible wife, friend and mother to OUR kids. You are more thoughtful, forgiving and caring than anyone I have ever met or anything I could aspire to be. I truly envy that about you. You are also a gorgeous woman. Your inner beauty has always been the biggest draw from me and it is the reason that I married you and the reason I love you so much. I know I have not always led you to believe this, but I also love to hear you talk and I do enjoy talking to you. You are the only person in my life I feel that I can truly confide in and not be judged. You know more about me than any other person on this planet and I know that goes both ways. You are a very passionate speaker, and you always do your best and take the extra time/effort to help someone understand your point or feelings. I love that about you, and it is one of your greatest strengths in my opinion so long as you are tactful, and light handed with criticism. Please don’t ever feel that you talk too much or that you are a bad person for speaking your feelings/thoughts so long as you know in your heart that you are coming from a good place and do you best to be constructive which you usually do. I have done, said and thought so many things to/about you that I am not proud of, and I am deeply sorry for. I know that 2017 really can be the best year of our lives, that this year we can really start over and get back to the place where we truly love, honor and cherish each other with no regrets, bitterness or anger in our hearts towards each other or anyone else for that matter. You are the reason for my happiness and confidence. You built me up when no one else would, picked me up when I fell, held me when I cried, celebrated with I thought I had done nothing spectacular, kicked me in the butt when you knew I needed to get over myself and believed in me when I did not even believe in myself. You ARE the light and the love that has filled my soul all along. You are the reason that I am the father, husband and human being I am today. You have taught me more than I ever thought I could learn from a person and challenged me to do things that I never ever thought I could do and more. We met for a reason, and we are together for a reason that was always meant to be. We love each other, feed off each other, mend each other’s wounds and fill in each other’s cracks. We must continue to do so because we will break without each other. We have to stay together even when we don’t think we can and give each other no reason to like the other or be likable to the other. I know we will grow from everything that has happened this past year and that things have gotten better already and will continue to do so even if they get worse for a time. Our pain and suffering is temporary but our love and connection is literally eternal. I am sorry I forget that sometimes. Happy 2017, Baby! I love you and I know you love me. It’s time to truly enjoy life TOGETHER and make this relationship we have better than it ever has been. I Love and adore you Catherine Williamson and I always will. Thank you for being my wife and thank you for being you. With all my heart
There’s a light in you that tears me down to nothing, there’s an angel in your eyes. There’s a hope inside that you can make it better. You see right through my disguise. When it rains it pours, and everybody stumbles. I won’t let them bring you down. I won’t let you down when the seasons change. I won’t go down. I’ll fight through the pain. I’ll be there right by your side. I’ll never let them bring you down when the seasons change. There’s a hope in me that I will die for something. Was the fire in my eyes? All this pain inside – will it be this way forever? I can run but I can’t hide. When it rains it pours, and everybody stumbles. I won’t let them bring me down. I won’t let you down when the seasons change. I won’t go down. I’ll fight through the pain. I’ll be there right by your side. I’ll never let them bring you down when the seasons change. When the seasons change and we’re in for colder weather, look for me on the divide. I won’t let you down when the seasons change. I won’t go down. I’ll fight through the pain. I’ll be there right by your side. I’ll never let them bring you down. I won’t let you down. When the seasons change.
{Five Finger Death Punch}
Last night, I had an epiphany and yet another piece of my puzzle fell into place. I wasn’t as geographically close to her as most of my cousins were, but have always been extremely fond of her. You see, although I was raised Roman Catholic, it was SHE, my maternal grandmother, who first taught me about Jesus and that I could have a personal relationship with Him no matter what “church” I either did or didn’t dwell in, and that “just because you can’t see Him, it doesn’t mean He isn’t there.”
It was SHE who planted that mustard seed of faith in my psyche so many years ago. It was SHE who taught me that it doesn’t really matter what anyone thinks of you, because at the end of the day, it’s between you, yourself, and the Lord to be accountable (although years of self-torture and cowering to “what people would think” occurred before I began to practice this preaching).
It was SHE who taught me that just because a woman is divorced it doesn’t mean God won’t forgive her or that she has to accept the accompanying guilt and shame that society and even her own family may burden her with.
It was SHE who taught me that it’s not the “things” in our lives that matter most, it’s what we learn from our lessons and mistakes, our faith in God, and the people we love, trust and walk beside in our journeys that do.
It was SHE who taught me about living with only my truest convictions … SHE who embodied this feisty, yet powerful cloth of grace from which I’m woven … and SHE who began my greatest punctuation lesson of all!
Grandma, my dear angel, for as long as I am lucky enough to be alive here, you will always be that bowl of lumpy Cream Of Wheat I eat on a crisp, cool winter’s morning with my burnt tortillas and hot cup of coffee.
Never shall I part with this “seen better days” Scrabble game of ours that we played together countless of hours. Dare I say that literally cannot wait to have my own grandbabies sitting at that precious game board one day with their “Crazy Grandma Cat” so I can tell them all about YOU, the EPIC legacy YOU left behind, and how it was YOU who made some of the most beautiful brushstrokes across this masterpiece I’ll be working on until that beautiful moment I finally get to cross to The Brighter Side Of Grey and see you again.
Now that I think of it, I just realized that when I started this post, I opened with the exact wrong words. What I should have said was:
Last night I had an epiphany and yet another beautiful TILE fell safely into place in the Scrabble board that is my life!
Here’s hoping you’ll be standing there with my Butterfly, my fallen king, and the many others I’ve lost along the way as the steel magnolia you’ll always be as in my mind, “always bending, but never breaking“, just like the apostrophe you helped me become. It’s okay, Grandma. We’re ready for you to take this game to the next, BEST level of all! It’s unbearable watching you suffer this way, so, to you I sing the Anthem Of The Angels:
White walls surround us. No light will touch your face again. Rain taps the window as we sleep among the dead. Days go on forever, but I have not left your side. We can chase the dark together. If you go then so will I. There is nothing left of you. I can see it in your eyes. Sing the anthem of the angels and say the last goodbye. Cold light above us. Hope fills the heart and fades away. Skin white as winter, as the sky returns to gray. Days go on forever, but I have not left your side. We can chase the dark together, if you go then so will I.
{Breaking Benjamin}
Can you imagine being 20 years old before ever having a “Court Order Delayed Birth Certificate” issued to you, because your “birthday” didn’t seem to matter? Not your father. Not your “mother THING“. Not your siblings. NO ONE! Then, as added insult to the original injury and salt on top of the already gaping wound, finding out years later that because of the extremely vague details contained on said “birth certificate”, it was legally useless? Well, it just so happens that I know a guy … the love of my life … THE KING OF MY HEART … who knows exactly how it feels!
To say his childhood was less than optimal is far less than an understatement. That THING all but threw him away beginning the day he was born, then left him for good 18 months later, because, I suppose, he wasn’t as stellar as his older three siblings who were good enough for her to stick around for. It was only ever him she didn’t want, and trust me when I say that it’s been a sobering reality for him to wake to every day. Keep in mind that from the onset of meeting him, and especially once we got married, I’d been all but begged the “family” he was left with after “it” birthed him and bolted to please find some pictures of him as a child. Even one. Just one. Does anyone have even ONE picture from his childhood? But I’ve digressed.
Last year, ROCK STAR won us a company cruise to The Bahamas for his outstanding sales achievements, but because we’d be crossing international waters, he needed a US Passport. If you’ve ever gone through that application process, you know this all too well … ya can’t get a passport without a birth certificate! We diligently began by first having to obtain a “certified copy” from the courthouse since, PS, adding even more insult to the aforementioned injuries, his father, who received it from the court way back when, lost it! As in, he couldn’t be bothered to keep hold of it … HE WENT AND FUCKING LOST IT! But I’ve digressed again. So, we got the certified copy and turned it in with the passport application.
To make a very long, complicated, and infuriating story as short as possible, it was denied because to information on the certified copy of the delayed certificate of birth was so vague, lacking even so much as an official time of birth or the signature of the midwife that delivered him, the State Department wouldn’t accept it as valid enough proof that he WAS indeed actually “born”. Eventually, we ended up sitting in the office of our local state representative, Sam Johnson, explaining all the sordid details to his assistant, who ultimately stepped in, worked a little magic, and managed to get him a one-year “temporary” passport so that we’d be sure and make the cruise. But since we are indeed hoping to travel internationally as much as possible if and when time allows, we still had quite a process to go through in order to obtain a full United States Passport, which “process” sent us on a wild goose chase that looked and SOUNDED something like this …
But, Mr. Williamson, in order to issue you a passport, we need your ORIGINAL birth certificate.
I DON’T HAVE MY ORIGINAL BIRTH CERTIFICATE! THIS IS WHAT I’M TRYING TO TELL YOU! The only record of my birth that ever fucking existed is the “Court Ordered Delayed” birth certificate that was sent to my father years ago and he went and fucking LOST IT!
But Mr. Williamson, the information on your delayed birth certificate is just too vague. We need more information. What about the hospital you were born in? Did you check with them? Surely, THEY have an official record of you?
I WAS BORN IN MY PARENTS’ HOUSE IN IRVING, NOT A HOSPITAL! THERE WAS NEVER AN OFFICIAL RECORD OF MY BIRTH, OR, IF THERE EVER WAS A RECORD OF ANY KIND, IT NO LONGER EXISTS, BECAUSE NOT ONLY DID SHE NEVER WANT ME IN THE FIRST PLACE, SHE CERTAINLY NEVER KEPT A RECORD OF ME!
Well, we’ll need some documented proof that you existed in the system. Perhaps some early childhood records such as medical, dental, immunizations, or maybe even a letter from the school district you were enrolled in.
NO ONE KEPT ANY RECORDS OF ME … THIS IS WHAT I’M TRYING TO TELL YOU!
Well, what about the Census Bureau? Have you checked with the Census Bureau yet? Or your school district? What about the school district you were enrolled in? Can you get a letter from them?
Why can’t you understand this? NO ONE KEPT ANY RECORDS OF ME! I don’t know how else to explain it to you!
Hmm? Okay, well then how about some school pictures? Are there any school pictures of you? Yearbooks maybe? Do you have any of your childhood yearbooks?
NO ONE KEPT ANY RECORDS OF ME! THIS IS WHAT I’M TRYING TO TELL YOU! THERE ARE LITERALLY NO RECORDS OF ME ANYWHERE! NO ONE KEPT ANY RECORDS FOR ME! HOLY SHIT PEOPLE! FML! I FEEL LIKE I’M GOING INSANE!
After well over a year of arduous detective work and psychological assault, not the least of which was the nasty slap in his already tender face by his “brother” (who after having been asked for help by my desperate husband answered “NO” with deafening silence), my husband finally received his United States Passport!
With all of the above being said, I would now like to say this to my KING of a husband who has worked so hard to give me and mine the actual WORLD on a silver platter … the day you were born was indeed one of the miracles of MY life. I love you, Zachariah. I’m so beyond proud to be your wife.
On 10-5-82, the Sun shone a whole lot brighter than it ever had before. Smiling down on me. At only-God knows what time, both hands of time stopped turning and you came waltzing in to change my world for good. And I really don’t know exactly what was going on, but I bet I laughed a lot harder on that day, ’cause my whole world was changing on 10-5-82. On 10-5-82, you breathed your first breath. Suddenly living life meant so much more on the day that you were born. And I didn’t have a clue of all that was transpiring, but I bet the sky was blue and all the world looked new, ’cause everything was changing on 10-5-82.
Hey [big brother] can you give me a call. I have a favor to ask. We need a copy of your birth certificate to help me get a passport because of my jacked up birth certificate. I’ll explain.
Catherine, he STILL can’t be bothered to help me. It’s as if I don’t matter or even exist. I guess some things will never change.
We now have three of what appear to be the only school pictures that exist of him. Meanwhile, a local congressman had become aware of his abandonment and complete lack of identity and has intervened so he may finally have official recognition as a citizen and hopefully even a U.S. Passport! My husband is our hero and there are no words to describe how lucky we are that “they” have all forsaken him, because HE BELONGS TO US! Their loss is our EVERYTHING! He’s a man on a pedestal as long as he roams this Earth (and surely after he leaves it), and thank you GOD that he chose me and mine to finally call “his home”. And so, with that, HAPPY BIRTHDAY WILLIAMSON! This world is a much better place with you in it!
Say it once. Tell me twice. Are you certain I’m alright? Just a sign to remind me tomorrow’s worth the fight. Ever changing – the story line that keeps me alive. So make a wish and say: Give me life. Give me love. Star lit angel from above. Not so low. Not so high. Keep it perfectly disguised. Ever changing – the story line that keeps me alive. My Mona Lisa’s making me smile right before my eyes. Take another look. Take a look around. Its you and me, it’s here and now. As you sparkle in the sky I’ll catch you while I can ’cause all we are is all I am. I just want you to see what I’ve always believed … You are the miracle in me. Show me faith like you do. I’m amazed at how you move. Side to side, front to back – you know how to make it last. Ever changing – the story line that keeps us alive. My Mona Lisa’s making me smile. {Shinedown}
I’ve been treating myself with fresh cut flowers once a week for going on five years, despite the fact that Williamson is an avid flower sender. Meanwhile, I’d been hoping that eventually Gia would notice and finally ask me the question for which I’ve been excited and prepared. But I wanted her to be the one to initiate the conversation so my answer would take root in her psyche forever:
🌸
Now, I want to challenge every woman reading this right now to go get herself some “kitchen flowers” TODAY! Life’s too short NOT to live like the queen you truly are, and bringing yourself flowers is one of the most perfect ways to treat yourself like royalty.
… that moment you’re unknowingly called to stage the house you built so many years ago, which very house is where your heart and soul were literally torn from within your being and the deconstruction of both yours and your son’s life began. And while I am so proud of myself for maintaining my composure as I walked room to room with the client as every haunting memory flooded me, to the point I couldn’t breathe, I find it no coincidence that Williamson just happened to be there.
The irony is that just this morning we both agreed that even with all the personal growth and forward movement I have made since the day I left that life behind, there are still some things that I’ve yet I to let go of despite my insistence I already have. But God is good, and I know I had to walk back into that house for a reason and He EVEN had my best friend with me to help me safely fall apart when we got back in the car. That is all.
I can see you running, running. Every night from the same darkness. It’s coming, coming. But you are not alone. If you just say the word, I’ll be there by your side. You make me more. You make me superhuman. And if you need me to I will save you. Send out the signal and I’ll fly low. If it means the death of me, I won’t let go. And if I’m lost in the worlds shadows I’ll use the light that comes to me from your halo. When you’re backed against the wall I could be the one who’s always there to break your fall. You are not alone. You’re the Sun. You’re the Day. The Light that guides me through. Never run, run away. I will save you. {Starset}
Wow! Just WOW! When this album dropped today, I knew it was gonna be good, but little did I know that it would re-invite some formerly uninvited memories of the past when I was separated from God:
And You? Your love’s defining a generation to settle a score. I once knew trust … but now I’m surrounded by time I’ve wasted and hearts that I stole. I owe to You a second chance … an explanation … a promise I’ll keep for every lie that I told to You. My lungs were failing … hands to the sky … face to the ground … I found that You have no intensions. You honor nothing. And how could this be true? They think so highly of You. You said You would come back for me … said You’d find a safe place. You said that Heaven and stars would never tear us apart. You’ll find the right words even from the wrong ways … You lie. Why won’t you just shut up? I’ll make you fade away. There’s a consequence to every word You say. Don’t you know who I am? I said I would come back for You … said I’d find a safe place. Who knew that Heaven and stars had their own prison bars? I’ll find the right words even from the wrong ways. I lied. I never wanted “so long” to turn into “go away”. There was a time when Your face I held much higher than grace. You are the catalyst to words I would never say. Goodbye! And now I only talk to the dead. Goodbye! I’m gonna see it all your way. What do I do now?
On second thought, no! I was never “separated from God”. He was with me all the while, and my imaginary separation from Him was, perhaps, the biggest lie that the devil had been shoving down my throat of all. Thankfully, those days are gone now.
And Him? His love is defining a generation, but not to settle anymore scores. I very much do know trust, and am surrounded by the precious hearts I stole and an even more precious 86,400 seconds a day that I refuse to waste while I revel in this beautiful life I still get to live with them. Yes, I really did owe Him a second chance … an explanation … and a promise I’ll keep for every lie that I told. My lungs are no longer failing … hands to the sky … face to the ground. I find that yes, He has only the best intensions for me and mine. He’s honored everything … this I know to be true … and while not everyone thinks so highly of Him … I MOST CERTAINLY DO! He said He would come back for me. He said He’d find a safe place. He said that Heaven and stars would never tear us apart … AND THEY WON’T! He’ll find the right words even from the wrong ways every single time I still lie. Thank you, GOD, that You never just shut up, and I promise that I’ll never ask you to fade away again. Yes, there really is a consequence to every word He says. Yes, he knows who I am. My “Heaven and stars” no longer have prison bars … they are my only true freedom. Goodbye!
2,410 days have passed since the first time you said “I love you”.
1,885 days have passed since the night you gave me your heart, a little silver band, and a promise of the best life any man could provide.
1,884 days have passed since Gia and I moved into your tiny apartment in Fairview after my father said these words to you:
You’re a loser who will never amount to anything and you’ll NEVER be my son in law. MY son in law lives there!
… then he pointed out the window to the very beautiful house I’d long since left behind and was never going back to.
COUNTLESS days have passed since our story began that you never cease to amaze me. You are my hero, literally, and if we had to go back to the apartment in Fairview I would happily go. I could live anywhere, as long as you’re there. It’s not about the “house”, it’s about the “home”. You’re a prince among men and I’m so thankful for you today. You have given us EVERYTHING, and I’m so damn proud to be your wife. I will love you forever, every single day, then eternally after that should you have to leave here before I do.
This morning, while I was boxing up the remnants of “The Frog & The Butterfly” festivities, I came across a forgotten note that our daughter Gia had written, unbeknownst to us, evidently in preparation for the possibility that she, as my maiden of honor, would have to give a speech at the reception. When a friend of ours had informed her that she may indeed have to say a little something, she was super excited and evidently more than par to the task. However, as you can imagine, with all of the fast-paced excitement and shenanigans that morning, some of our plans went awry, and her speech never did happen.
Meanwhile, I found the note at the bottom of the little bag she had with her at the venue, and although I am so overwhelmingly disappointed that she never got to actually have her special moment that day, I now feel it is imperative that I share with you all what she wrote. Keep in mind that a week or so before she had come to me one afternoon with a barrage of “boot camp questions”, i.e.:
Mommy, so what did they did to you in there?” “What exactly happened? Did it hurt? Did you cry? Was it scary? Was it fun? Did they make you run or do jumping jacks? Since it’s called boot camp, were they dressed like soldiers?
Lol. And also, “Who exactly are the main people from Boot Camp, and are they going to be there on Sunday I hope? I always hear you talking about Jim and Elizabeth, and I know who Miss Dana is, and Mr. Mike, and the pretty lady at dinner with the baby at Mr. Mike’s house. But who else? Can you tell me their names?” I answered all her questions to the best of my ability, knowing NOTHING of this written speech until this morning (and I am typing it as-is, verbatim, misspellings and all) …
I don’t even know where to start. My mom has done soo much, to make shure her kids are happy, healthy, and most of all, loved. She is a hard worker, a great wife, an the absolute BEST mom. And when God put me on this earth, I must of been a very lucky baby to be put in the care and loving arms of my mom. Shes brave, loving, kind, sweet, forgiving, and always, always has warm loveing open arms to catch you if you fall. My mom is always there when you need her and even when you don’t. She comforts me when I am scared, gives me hugs when im sad, and helps me if I don’t understand. She has inspired me to be the best girl I can be and theres probably no one here in this room but me that knows what my mom and dad have gone through together. If my mom thought for just one minute, that me and Zack (my dad) didn’t click or absolutely love each other she wouldn’t have married him. But I loved him and I still love him to this day. My dad who even though he is my step dad he doesn’t call me his step daughter, he just calls me his daughter, nothing else no “step” is allowed. Even to his friends he says my “daugther”, my “daughter”, and before all of this happened, before she met my dad she was always sad. Then she whent to this thing called bootcamp and no one knows what they did to her in there but it was a miracle. So her bootcamp family, Jim carrol, and Elizabeth Carrol, david bishop, dana hamman, Jhon hoback, and all her bootcamp family, so many I can’t even name them all, all played a big part in the women my mom is today. So thank you all and mom I know you wont always be able to protect me but I want you to know I will always be your little girl. I love you momy. Thank you.
So, with that, please be blessed today and walk upright and proud in all that you do, give, and fight for on behalf of all the broken people who have walked through your doors (many who don’t even know they are broken, and even more who don’t take it seriously) in an attempt to make this effed up, crazy world that we live in a little bit nicer place, one “boot camper” at a time. If ever any of you find a shred of doubt within your hearts as to whether the work you are doing is “real or not real”, please read, then re-read this note and know that it came straight from the heart of an innocent little 10-year old girl whose still pure heart doesn’t quite know how to “not call it like she sees it”. And trust me, SHE’S SEEN IT! She is neither a celebrity, nor a paid spokesperson, and quite frankly still doesn’t know from Adam (or if she does know, doesn’t care) that Mommy’s “boot camp family” is now on TV. She’s just a kid who watched her “very sad” Mommy walked out the door to something called boot camp where a bunch of total strangers helped her come home four days later very HAPPY AND CHANGED and our lives have never been the same since! I have thanked you all before, and attempted to credit you at every possible turn with not just my personal testimony of words, but with a life well-lived that is living proof with which to credit you.
Before I walked into that place that on that “Wednesday that changed everything” seven years ago, I was anything but a “brave, loving, kind, sweet, forgiving, and always, always has warm loveing open arms to catch you if you fall” kind of girl. Well, scratch that. I was and always HAVE been that girl, it just took bunch of hearts like yours to help me pull my head out of my butt once and for all so that I could get the hell out of my own way and begin to LIVE! I love you all, and you know that. But the words right here from my daughter? The most POWERFUL “Life Enrichment Boot Camp” testimony of all! THIS HERE FOLKS IS REAL FOKS, and “real” means everything to me these days! Her precious words are as authentic as it gets. Thank you for everything you’ve given me and all the things THIS little boot camp “survivor by default” is going to be as a result of the women you helped her momma become! That is all.
Because, you see, when this man makes a promise, he keeps it! In case you didn’t know by now, when Williamson and I got married on this day exactly five years, it was at 8:15pm on a Monday night in our dear friends’ theatre room. At that time, we had very little support and even less resources to fund an actual wedding. But that was the way it was. Still, on that first night, once we arrived “home” to our little apartment in Fairview, he did, of course, stop me at the door to pick me up and carry me over the threshold, but not before grabbing my hands, looking me straight into the eyes, and saying these most beautiful words that I will never forget:
Catherine Marie Williamson, I love you, wife. Thank you for marrying me and finally giving me a real home. I promise you with all that I am that some day you will have a proper wedding … and a big, fat wedding ring … and a cake … and flowers … and an actual castle … and a life befitting a princess. You just have to give me a little time and have a lot of faith. Can you do that?
I looked him back straight in his eyes and said, “I love you too Zachariah. I trust you.” BECAUSE I DID! Now here we are, five years to the day, and guess who made good on his promise? You should know that he planned pretty much everything you see here and did the majority of the work putting this all together. He poured his literal heart and soul into making this day happen and my part in this production was minimal. This day was a dream come true and a promise kept for the both of us.
Thank you so much to everyone who came to support us for this hard-earned special day (some from MILES away)! We love all of you … and especially my “maidens” (and the moms who got them there) who not only treated me like a queen, but whose innocent giggles, laughter, joy and excitement made it all the better! I finally got to walk down the aisle the way we always dreamed that I would with “his first song to me” that ended up becoming my song to him playing in the beautiful sanctuary. It was literally a fairytale dream come true for both of us …. “The Frog & The Butterfly”.
Catherine Marie Williamson, I love you, wife. Thank you for marrying me and finally giving me a real home. I promise you with all that I am that some day you will have a proper wedding … and a big, fat wedding ring … and a cake … and flowers … and an actual castle … and a life befitting a princess. You just have to give me a little time and have a lot of faith. Can you do that?
{“Every Day (For The Rest Of Our Lives)“}
Dare I remember that night not too long ago when he sent me this song. I really did need need him them but it really was hard for him to find the time with his temporary job on the unemployment line. Meanwhile, here we are just a week away from yet another of his promises kept. He’s marrying me again … but for the first time. Only time will tell what lies ahead, but sufficed to say that he has already given me a life befitting a princess.
… that moment you take her into Barnes & Noble, but rather than picking out a treat for herself, she opts to have you buy a book for her “stepdad“, at which point she proceeds to go home, write a love note inside the cover, then hide it under his pillow to find when he goes to bed tonight. We are the two most blessed girls in this entire world. Thank you God for our “rock and stable ground” day and night!
We train others how to treat us.
They’re six of the most important words I’ve ever heard in my life, echoed again today by a real estate teacher, author, and mentor of mine in a class he was teaching. Ironically, I had already heard these exact words before from “Debbie G”, a colleague I’d called upon for some advice a year ago when dealing with a buyer that I just couldn’t come to terms with. She probably has no idea of the impact those six powerful words she spoke while coaching me through “the buyer from hell” ordeal had on not only my professional life, but my personal life as well. Ever since she said it, I have chanted them to myself daily.
I am so grateful to be a woman living in a day and time where I can choose to further not only my education, but my wisdoms of life in general and feel completely supported in doing so. You see, I am a woman who was first a daughter, then a wife, then a mom, and then a real estate agent and home stager. A career in real estate was not a natural choice for me, and in fact, if left solely to my former self’s complete lack of self-confidence and subconscious “fear of succeeding”, I suppose I’d still be hiding somewhere in a perfectly manicured palace of oblivion on a road I have since left behind. I would never have fully realized not only my potential, but my true love and appreciation of life, learning and people in general. But alas, I turn to yet another one of my favorite lifetime mantras, “everything happens for a reason“!
Yes, this is the edict I have chosen to adopt over the course of many lifetimes, loves, and tragedies, and the one voice inside my psyche that faithfully pulls my little train down this ever-rambling track. Even that buyer transaction from hell, brokerage colleagues, and real estate teachers happened for a reason.
No thanks, I’ll pass! I wouldn’t do that to myself, a loved one, or quite frankly even a stranger, so YOU may not do that to me. I’ll train YOU how to treat ME, and that’s JUST the way it is!
What a coincidence that two people I’ve grown to respect in the fledgling state of my career have both said these most important “six words” to me! Perhaps I should tattoo them in reverse on my forehead, so I see them every time I look in a mirror.
On my way home from school this afternoon, I kept thinking about how much I wanted to literally jump out of my seat in class today when I heard my teacher say those words I now so fondly relish and yell,
YES! This is what I’ve been saying to myself almost every day since Debbie G said these words to me during my buyer transaction from hell!
Wow, do you think they would have thought I was nuts, or what? During that same ride home, I couldn’t help but notice that I was smiling from ear to ear, richer still with yet another treasured light bulb moment! My point being that I am inspired, on fire, and completely elated with my newfound freedom to take every opportunity I can to absorb every shred of wisdom from those who have gone before me through doors I am constantly preparing to open. Of course, I will take and apply this principal to my real estate practice, and most especially where my agency is concerned. But more so than that, I am practicing this principal in my everyday life as well, and I gotta tell ya, it sure feels good to know what I know and why I know it, and further, to daily permit myself to “just say no” now and again, rather than letting some people run me over with their chaos busses. Boundaries are superb my friends! They send a smokescreen into our atmosphere that reads …
Respect for human boundaries of any shape or form is implicit in the survival of our very souls. And for the record, with this post I do so hope that both “the colleague and the coach” fully realize the impact those six simple words have had on me.
Although I didn’t make a big deal today when you mentioned how much you loved this song, an actual chill ran down my spine and across my skin when you told me and just can’t say it enough! That song has so much meaning to me and I listened to it when I was at The Meadows the day before I came home. It was as though God Himself needed me to hear it so I could start to understand the way my own mind and heart were truly broken and sick. Believe it or not that song played a huge part in my ultimate decision to once and finally turn my life inside out and somehow attempt to rise above myself.
There’s a game life plays, makes you think you’re every thing they ever said you were.
You see, that’s how I got sick! The constant criticisms from grandma and grandpa, MY VERY OWN PARENTS (who, although you never knew it, were very much like your own), and unfortunately even your Dad? Those were the three people in this world that I loved, trusted, and counted on the most to validate and protect me from harm, yet the only way any of them seemed to know how to “love”, “accept”, or “validate” anyone was based on certain conditions being met. “If you do this you are bad, but if you don’t do that you are good!” “If you don’t follow our advice and do exactly as we say then we will wash our hands of and be done with you.” Seriously? IT’S SO FUCKING SCREWED UP! That’s not how love is supposed to work at all. If you really love someone, you just love them with no strings attached and no contingencies.
Was it life I betrayed for the shape that I’m in?
You and me Christian? We are BOTH our own worst enemies! Because we have both heard over and over and over again the “love you/hate you, you’re good/no, you’re bad” messages, now they play as negative tapes rolling repeatedly in the back of our minds such that neither of us know who the fuck we are anymore!
We sold our souls to their “works and deeds based affections” and the endless price tags they came with, and have now only failed ourselves by believing that “love” is only valueless bargaining chip people use to get what they want! And do you want to know what the saddest irony in all of this is? Somehow I believe that they do love me Christian, just as I believe they love you, too! None of them purposely set out to emotionally cripple or abuse us, but at the same time, even to this day they neither recognize or account for any of it! They all learned how to love from their own toxic family webs, so the Venom suit lives on! Your job now (as was mine the time I first heard this) is to “take some time and clear away everything you’ve planned”.
You have to retrain your brain and teach it to be kinder to YOU! We are surrounded by all these people Christian, who “love us the most in this world”, yet only with conditions. Love is not supposed to be this way, and it’s why you’re so mean to yourself Christian. You’ve been told so many times that “you’re a fuck up, a moron and a loser ” (but then five minutes later, “no, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that”), that you literally don’t know who or WHAT you really are other than to say to yourself that you are “probably more bad than good”.
If I could change my life, be a simple kind of man, try to do the best I can. If I could see the signs, I’d derail every path I could. Now I’m about to die, won’t you clear away a path, give me strength to fly away.
You see, this is the part of the song! I knew it was going to hurt everyone, and most especially you and your sister, and that it also might cost me everything. But I truly was “about to die” if I couldn’t find that strength to clear my own path and finally “fly away”, so I had to make a choice. If I had done “the good, right, and unselfish thing” that your grandparents and dad kept guilting me towards and stayed in that toxic cycle with your dad, not only would it have ended up literally physically killing me, but sooner or later it would have irreparably damaged both my kids. So, I had to choose the lesser of two evils. I had to be “selfish”, choose ME, turn my life inside out, and therefore in my mind clear a better path for you and Gia.
Christian, I’m so glad you are seemingly opening your eyes to yourself and how you have became so angry, cynical, and untrusting. I’ve been praying to God every night since I left that house that some day you would understand why I had to leave! I don’t want either you or your sister somehow becoming me at age 40 and being hauled off to a facility with nothing but “wasted years” behind you. If I’d have known, understood, or realized even a shred of “me” at your age, 21, well who knows what could have been, right? The point is I don’t want you to spend too many more years being angry, broken and despising yourself. YOU’VE TORTURED YOURSELF ENOUGH! You have to find a way get out of your own way now and put down some of that heavy stuff so that you don’t end up driving yourself either crazy, dead, or ALONE! And I’m sorry for this “wall” of a text message but I love you so much and every day that goes by I believe you are getting closer to rising above yourself, too, and leading a happy and peace-filled existence. You and I have both learned the very hard way by now that life is too damn precious and fragile. No more “Wasted Years”, okay?
There’s a game life plays – makes you think you’re everything they ever said you were. I’d like to take some time to clear away everything I’ve planned. Was it life I’ve betrayed for the shape that I’m in? It’s not hard to fail, it’s not easy to win. Did I drink too much? Did I disappear? Well there’s nothing that’s left but wasted years. There’s nothing left but wasted years. If I could change my life I’d be a simple kind of man try to do the best I can. If I could take the sides, I’d derail every path I could. I’m about to die, won’t you clear away from me and give me strength to fly away? Was it life I’ve betrayed for the shape that I’m in? It’s not hard to fail, it’s not easy to win. Did I drink too much? Did I disappear? Well there’s nothing that’s left but wasted years. {Cold}
The Diary Of My Perfection 