Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Finally Found A Love of a Lifetime


Being that Valentines is just three days away, I have been working on trying to come up with an original love story only to realize, what better love story that one of truth. Below is a chapter out of the book I had published in May of 2011. The title of the book is called "Through the Barracks Window" and can be found on Amazon.com.



 
Seabee Ball 1992
Adak, Alaska






Chapter Thirteen
Love of a Lifetime
Written by: Stacey L. Bolin
All rights reserved
 
Now being a Seabee was something more important to me than anything.  So I thought.  It was a job that I could have done for years, but with Don now in my life, all I could think about was how wonderful it would be, if we could be a real couple.  I had a permanent smile that would not leave my face and focusing on the work task at hand was mind boggling.  What I thought was going to last only days, or a week or two, like many guy friendships before him, became weeks that quickly turned into months.  What was even worse was not telling anyone how I was feeling.  Knowing he was to marry another, that didn’t stop my heart inside from falling deeply in love with him.
During the day my personal life was the number one topic of conversation at public works.  How upset many were to learn that I was spending time with another battalion man, but they didn’t know who he was and I was not about to tell them.  I honestly believe that some spoke out of envy or jealousy.  Either way I wasn’t affected in the slightest.  I realized things were changing for Don and I when he first started calling my shop at the same time every day just to say hi.  He even began making up strange excuses, false names and convinced some of his buddies to call my shop, and hand the phone over to him after I got on the line, so that my supervisors would let me talk.  The most creative idea was when he started showing up at the paint shop where I worked in various construction equipment and vehicles. 
The secretaries upstairs above my department used to bet on what he would drive over to public works each day.  To add to their bets, they wondered, who was this good looking guy coming to see?  He was coming to see me and little did he know he had me hook, line, and sinker.  But still I never let anything show that I loved him.
 
We would also meet at the galley on a daily basis to eat lunch together with the rest of the guys that were working with him on the rock crushing crew.  I was heart-broken when he told me that his hours were going to be extended to work the night shift from six to twelve, and that he would not be able to go to the club as much.
There was no way that his new schedule was going to steal our together time.  Suddenly I was stricken with a bad case of “open mouth insert foot” disease.  Not knowing a damn thing about running equipment, I blurted out, “I’ll help you guys, if you want me to!” Yes, a very desperate attempt to be with him as much as I could. 
They all just looked at me with their mouths wide open as if I had just suggested naked scuba diving in the icy waters of the Bering.  Don, and a guy whose name was Richard, were the only two working this shift, quickly said that it sounded great and to be in front of the galley at 5:45pm.  I know they didn’t think I would really show up, especially knowing I was going to be working.
 
“You got it!” I said, speculating on what I had just committed myself to.
Sure enough, at 5:45pm on the dot, Don pulled in front of the galley driving a duce and a half truck.
“Wow, I didn’t think you’d show up?” Richard remarked with surprise.
“You’re not wearing your inspection boots for this job, are you?” Don said in a worried tone of voice while I pulled myself up into the truck.
“This is the only pair that I have.  I can polish them when I get back to my room.”
“You have never been up to the rock crusher area I take it?” said Richard.
“No Why?”
Laughing with a smirk on his face he responded, “You’ll see.”
 
Because of the wonderful weather that was 90% of the time, rain, the mud in some areas would be deep and I found this out the hard way.  Not only did I sink up to my knees at one point in this wet muddy mess, the job I was given required me to shovel it. Don had given me the job of running a shovel to keep a bearing clear from any debris as they ran the equipment gathering large boulders to be placed into the crusher to make various sizes of aggregate.  I didn’t realize that they were testing me to see if I was a worker or that I used my tools as a place to lean on and rest.  I was indeed a worker, trying to show off in front of these men to prove that I would do my share, whatever the job may be, even if it meant shoveling mud for six hours.
After six hours of going to work with them following a full day with my own command, I would still show up at the galley to be picked up at 5:45pm and head to the quarry with them.  I never once complained.  After the fifth day I finally moved up in my job details.  Don decided to give me instructions on learning how to operate the John Deer 844 front-end loader that he was operating to select rocks for the crusher.
Now ladies, this was like no other driving class. (Not only was I sitting inside the biggest piece of machinery that had the best vibration that a woman in her right mind would not pass up).  Add the fact that Don, the sexy cowboy equipment operator, was standing against me with his hands on mine to teach me how to use the levers.  Just feeling the warmth of his strong body against mine was an absolute turn on.  I know he did this intentionally, but I wasn’t complaining.  As cold as the weather was outside…I was getting hot.
I have always been a quick learner, but this time I was taking full advantage of my acting skills and played the dumb card as long as I could.  Unfortunately, he caught on quick and said you’re on your own.  Show me what you can do.  Without hesitation I was off to enjoy digging into the dirt and rocks with the guidance of Don by my side.
As I went from one rock to another, Don began making comments that he was unsure about getting married.  Was he serious or looking for a way to up our friendship to friends with benefits?  I continued to listen.  We started having a long talk about what was he going to do about his fiancée back home.  It was then that I also told him of my relationship with Jim that was in battalion 4.  Yes, I should have just kept my mouth shut. 
Don became rather silent after my comment as if I had lied to him.  I didn’t lie.  I just didn’t know where my relationship stood with Jim.  I was afraid to talk about it as I knew how bad the riffs get between each battalion.  It was no secret that for years, battalion 4 and 5 were two units that could never get along, and I knew this after dating Jay and Jim.  I wanted my relationship with Jim to work, but at the same time, I was falling for Don.  The sad reality of it was that Don had another woman and I had another man.  I did feel a sense of guilt for falling in love with Don, but I felt worse when I thought of a day when Don would be gone.  My heart would ache every time I thought about him leaving the island, and leaving me.  There was no way that I would be able to let Don out of my life, but I knew his wife to be would have no part of that.  No woman wants their man’s best friend to be another woman.  It’s just trouble waiting. 
He seemed rather upset that I was seeing another man, but did not wish to talk about it when he learned Jim’s last name.  He then continued with how he did not like the way his fiancée seemed to nit-pick the things he did.  He had met her when his mother was in the hospital, she was her radiologist.  Not getting into the full details of how he met her, he went on to say how he felt obligated to marry her because his parents got them together and they really liked her.  I was bothered by that comment and it actually pissed me off.
When we finished with our work, he drove me straight back to my room without any conversation.  Thoughts rushed through my mind as we neared my barracks.
He’s a grown man that was sharing his inner most thoughts and dreams with me, but he was going to marry someone else because he feels obligated, and that his parents got them together.  What the hell is that?  He is 21 and his parents are still running his life?  Foolish!
What made this situation worse is that I actually said to Don, how I felt about it.  I was angry and jealous that I didn’t find him first.  I could not look him in the eyes as I didn’t want him to see that I loved him.  He still gave me a hug and what was worse, this time he said good-bye.  My heart shattered at that very moment into a million shardes of irreplaceable glass.  I feared that he would see my anger and jealously and mistake it for hate and disappointment.  I worried that he would never understand my emotions were to hide how much I truly loved him and how much I was hurting inside.  But I didn’t want to be the one that split him and his fiancée up.  It would have to be his choice to decide what he wanted to do with his life.  He left that night feeling a cold and distant part of me.  As I watched him slowly walk back to his barracks from the doorway to my barracks, the tears began to stream down my face, and with all the fight in this world I could not stop them.
“I love you so much Don.  So much and you will never know.” I said under my breath and went up to my room.
 
 
***
 
 
Over the radio the next day while I was at work there was a song that was dedicated to me from him.  The song was “I Can’t Make You Love Me” by Bonnie Raitt.
BUT I DO LOVE YOU!  I love you more than my existence on this very earth that I walk.  Did he really not see how I felt?  He consumed my every thought, every step, and every breath.  I have to tell him, but how?  We come from two different worlds, yet we are the same.
He knew that part of me that could not express what I was feeling with words when it came to love.  For me, the best way to person’s heart, was through song.  My life had always been tamed or fueled by the passions of music and lyrics.  There was always a song that could say what I was feeling and this moment was not any different.  My dedication said all the words that I wanted him to hear, but feared saying to him.  I decided to send him a song by Vanessa Williams called “Save the Best for Last.”  When my dedication had finished playing, he immediately called me.
“I am so sorry Don for the way I acted yesterday…I was just hurt.”
“I understand now, really I do.”
“Friends?  I asked, hoping his answer would be yes.
“More” was his reply.
 
Our dedications of these two songs went on for days.  We were becoming not only the talk of Public Works with the way the radio DJ’s were talking.  We were now quite the talk of our isolated island.  People wanted to know who these two people were and why they were denying their love for one another.
As the music played each day at the same time, our friendship grew.  We spent many moments together helping each other through the trials and tribulations of living on an isolated little island that didn’t offer much in the way of entertainment.  I enjoyed hanging out with him and his friends playing pool at the club or just kicking back watching programs on the television.  Oh and I can’t forget our ‘Sunday Oink feasts.”  We would buy all kinds of junk food Saturday night and never leave my room all day Sunday.  We would just lie on the bed all day and do nothing except making sure the television remote and the food was always within arms-length.  Still, neither of us made the move to sleep together. 
He also assisted me with studying for my astronomy class that I was taking through the University of Alaska Adak.  He would pick me up after class in a shop truck so that I would not have to walk up the hill in bad weather.  He was a sweetheart.  If you saw one of us, bet your bottom dollar that the other was only two steps away and we loved every bit of it.  Our relationship was new, exciting and sex free.
 
One evening life changed for both of us when Don arrived at my door sad and all alone one Friday night late in the month of February.  It was obvious that he had been drinking, but no so much that he was not aware of what he was saying or doing.  Worried and concerned, I asked him in.
“What’s the matter?”
“It’s my birthday,” he said, beginning to cry.
In my entire life I had never seen a grown man cry.  I was unsure as to what to do.  I sat down beside him on the edge of my bed and comforted him.
“Don, did you get the memo?  Birthdays are supposed to be a happy time,” I said with a smile.  “So tell my, why no smile?”
“Not mine, they never have been,”
“Do you want to tell me why?”  Worried that he may think I was interfering.
“I want to find my birthmother; I was adopted as a baby and always felt like something was missing.”
“Wow…and your family doesn’t know who your birthmother is?”
“No.”  He said trying to collect the pieces of his broken heart.
“Look, if that is something you really want to do, I can find her, trust me I have connections.”
“Yes, I have to find her before it is too late.”
“Don, are you sure this is what you want”
“More than anything.”
It was at that moment as I held him in my arms, my heart began to change.  What feelings I still might have had for Jim, I no longer questioned.  I could feel Don was in need of real unconditional love and my heart wanted to give so much to him.  As much as I wanted to believe we were just friends, this too had changed and I wanted to tell him I loved him.  I was afraid to say the words and so I made him a promise.  No matter how much of my life it took, I would find his birthmother.  He just needed to always stay in contact with me, so when I find her I could give him the information he needed.  I felt sad, happy and scared of the obstacles that lay before us, but I would find her. I knew how and that I would.
He looked up at me with his tender eyes and leaned towards me.
“Can I kiss you?” was all that he said.
“But…I don’t know…I…” without finishing my thoughts, I kissed him.
How tenderly his lips touched mine.  His hands began to caress my back and shoulders.  Afraid of wanting to feel this way I paused before putting my arms around him to pull him closer to me.  I was becoming lost in the moment.  Our kisses became more erotic as we became open to explore each other.  We wanted this to happen.  We wanted each other.
We had kissed before in fun, but never so intense that we found it hard to stop before anything got physical.  Our breathing quickened as I felt hot and weak in the knees when he put his hand underneath my blouse and then pulled me tightly into him.  This time, things were different and we let our guard down to live in this passion filled sexual moment. 
This was the first time that I actually felt the difference between sex and making love.  It was a true stress reliever as I began to cry as we both reached the peak of ecstasy.  This was something I had never felt before with any man.  It was perfect, passionate, tender, loving, mesmerizing, it was all so right.  I was filled with so much emotion, I wanted this to happen, but at the same time I worried that it would hurt him, that it would hurt us, and the facts were still the same, he was still was to marry another.  How would he tell her what happened or would he ever tell her, were the words that kept coming into my thoughts along with my wanting him in my arms forever.  I was so overwhelmed with a multitude of feelings that he didn’t understand my reasons for crying and I could not find the words, or my voice to explain.
He felt bad as if he had done something wrong and decided he should leave.  I broke down completely when I heard the door close behind him.  My love of a lifetime was walking out the door and I didn’t know how to tell him how much I needed him in my life, but I knew that I would find the right song, little did I realize it was playing on my radio when our special moment took place. It just summed us up so perfectly.
 
 
 
“Loving Arms”
Written by: Tom Jans
Sung by: Dobie Gray
 
If you could see me now
The one who said that he’d rather roam
The one who said he’d rather be alone
If you could only see me now
If I could hold you now
Just for moment, if I could really make you mine
Just for a while, turn back the hands of time
If I could only hold you now
I’ve been too long in the wind
Too long in the rain
Taking any comfort that I can
Looking back and longing for
The freedom of my chains
Lying in your loving arms again
If you could hear me now
Singing somewhere through the lonely night
Dreaming of the arms that held me tight
If you could only hear me now
I’ve been too long in the wind
Too long in the rain
Taking any comfort that I can
Looking back and longing for the freedom of my chains
Lying your loving arms again
I can almost feel your loving arms again
 
 
 
The intense pain of knowing that he was promised to someone was as if someone had ripped my heart from my chest and left it on a table for anyone to destroy.  This was not just another one of my crazy infatuations.  I could feel the power that this was truly God’s sign.  An answer to the mystical evening dream and thoughts that followed one November morning back in 1989 when I suddenly, without any warning, decided to leave a five year relationship because of a dream that someone needed me.  My whole life turned upside down to find a faceless mystery military man in a dream.
 
It is you that I have been searching for all these years.  It is you.  I feel it.  He won’t understand why I know he is the one.  Please God, bring us together forever.  I can’t live without him.  I know he is promised to someone else, but I can’t live without him knowing that our souls have now become one for eternity.  I love you Don. Always and forever.
 
Don, it was Don, the faceless mystery man that needed my help…I couldn’t let him slip away.  He is the reason why I have come this far, the reason for my journey for an answer, he needs my help to find his mother.  We are the missing connections that our souls needed to be complete.  I could not sleep that night.  I just wanted to find him and bring him back to me.  I don’t know what it was, but a miracle brought us back together later that night, my prayers had been answered. 
From that instant on a union of two hearts began to beat as one and we did everything we could to see each other every day.  He spent many nights in my room and the feeling of waking, with his arms wrapped around me – Heaven.  We no longer hid our feelings in public.  Our friends were in total awe each time they would talk with us about how Don and I felt, and only knowing each other for such a short amount of time.  All I could say was he was my right hand, without him, I couldn’t function.
Still some were disappointed that I had chosen to spend my time with a battalion man.  They knew that the Battalion deployments were only on the island for six months, then what?  Would it be a long distance relationship?  I already had one of those and that didn’t work.  My choice remained steadfast; Don was the man for me, yet I still questioned, was I the woman that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with?
 
 
***
 
 
My command had asked me if I would design the backdrop for the pictures to be taken at the 50th Anniversary Seabee ball.  I was honored and I also received many special treatments and fringe benefits for accepting the task.  I painted a beautiful sign with the Seabee logo and had it framed in oak.  It was a work of art and unbeknown to me was also very valuable.  Everyone would stop in the paint shop to see my masterpiece, but they would also ask the burning question, who was I going to the ball with?
“You’ll have to wait and see.” Was all the information I would offer them.
Now I must tell you, Seabees are like family and they really know how to party and protect one another, but within this large family are smaller ones.  They are categorized as Battalions, Constructions Battalion Units, Public Works, Dive teams, and Reservists.  I know I must have missed others, but I was only part of a PW and a CBU during my career.  Each group lives by an unwritten rule that we stick with our own group where we work unless it is a drink fest.  This is why it was so important to my command at public works to know if I would be attending with a guy from our division or my battalion man.  I knew that my upper chain had a problem with my current decisions, and I felt they were doing all they could to sabotage my future plans, but for me, it was none of their business and they would find out soon enough. 
 
What a shocker it was when Don and I attended the Seabee Ball together.  I had gotten to know his supervisors and battalion friends rather well, so Don and I sat with them all to enjoy dinner and the musical entertainment of the evening.  The biggest drama filled fiasco during the ball was that my sign had been stolen several times during the evening after the pictures had all been taken.  I knew that my command wanted it to display it on the quarterdeck of Public Works.  I was convinced that it was stolen by someone in Public Works that wanted it all to himself. 
“Someone stole my sign, I can’t believe it, someone stole my sign!” I was outraged as the ball ended.
“It’s ok Fallon, someone will find it.” Don said in a very calm voice.
“Don, something as big as that can’t just walk out of a crowd of people and not be noticed,” said Tony, one of the guys that I didn’t know.
“You sure about that?” said Mark with a bit of a snicker.
Tony glared at Mark and mouthed the words “Shut your ass.”
I believed that one of them knew something, but they all claimed that they had too much to drink and didn’t know what they were talking about.  Don and Tony just looked at each other and chuckled. 
It wasn’t until two weeks later following the Seabee ball, Don had called my office to tell me that he had made the sign reappear.  He asked me to come over to the battalion work spaces so that he could explain what happened.  Come to find out, it was an already planned situation by his supervisors and many other guys from Don’s unit.  They were going to make sure this work of art stayed with its rightful owner, me.  I was speechless, and humbled to know that they went to such great lengths and took some serious risks for me.  Do I have the sign to this day…come to a future Seabee get together and we’ll discuss it.
 
 
By the end of an eventful night out, we found ourselves embraced by a soulful connection when he took me back to my room.  I think it was this moment that he had been waiting for since our first encounter.  He took hold of me and held me close to his heart.  I looked up into his eyes and he cupped my face in the palms of his hands and gently kissed me.  I knew that he could reach right down into my soul, as I stood face to face with him.  He held me in his arms and while looking in my eyes he spoke ever so gently, the words I longed to hear.
“I love you. I want to be with you forever.”
Blushing as I spoke with tears in my eyes, I replied, “Forever is a long time.”
He simply said, holding me tightly, “No, it’s not long enough.”
As the moment gave way to a pause of silence, I found the strength within me and with every ounce of my heart and soul, without hesitation, I told him what I had longed to say since I met him.
“I love you too.” Then I smiled and wrapped my arms around him.  He made me feel safe and I never wanted to let go.
“I knew you did,” he said with relief as if it had been something he’d been waiting to hear for a very long time.
It was now no secret to anyone on the island that Don and I were getting closer and closer with each day that passed.  Our favorite thing to do since that night was to spend as much time together as we could.  We also loved to go to the club and slow dance to a song that he would always request.  “Love of a Lifetime” by Firehouse.  We had finally found the love of a lifetime.  What I was not prepared for, was an unsolved mystery that would find us later in our relationship.  We knew each other more than we thought.


21 Years Later
 

____________________________________________________________________________
Below are the songs that will always be apart of our love all those years ago.


Love of a Lifetime - Firehouse


Save the Best for Last - Vanessa Williams

I Can't Make You Love Me - Bonnie Raitt

Love Arms - Dobie Gray

 

Thursday, February 7, 2013

What's Really in a Valentine...

 

 

 

Wow, so I learned a little something about the Internet. You have to maintain the amount of space used on a blog that is free. I had too many pictures and it wouldn’t let me post this, as I had pictures of hearts on this page. So here it is two days late and only one heart - mabye next time. The story I wrote in my blog was rather emotional to write, so I needed some musical inspiration to help me, there is a link under the title.

***

Are you one of those people who begin to panic when you realize that a holiday or special day is indicated on the calendar...for example - grandparents day, secretaries days, an anniversary or heck how about national marshmallow day...ha-ha OK, I just added the marshmallow day, but who knows it could be on the calendar somewhere in the world. Well here it is, another Tuesday in a week. A day that isn't the beginning of a week, it isn't the middle of the week or a day before a weekend begins. It's just a Tuesday, but for me, I woke to a question that was asked of me last week by my younger son, and decided to make this a Topic Tuesday. I'm hearing you, "Of course Stacey, why wouldn't you?"

As many of you know I had been working a very very temporary job doing inventory preps to get ready for a big inventory for a store here in town. I even got my older son a job assisting with the inventory as well. Before he and I left for work late Monday afternoon, my husband and younger son had mentioned that they were going out for dinner, something they don't do often, and I like to encourage that they do more often than not. Adding my charming witty and joking way to their plans, I made the comment, "That's great you guys can ponder what to get me for Valentine’s Day," that was followed by my best Madonna strike-a-pose and extra cheesy, try to be a hot chick, smile. (You had to be there to get the full comedic effect) He knew I was being funny, but the joke was on me.

After work, we joined my husband and younger son, who were watching television, jumping between the movie "Lethal Weapon 2" and an old sitcom of "Two and a Half Men." Yes, the men of my home are professional channel jockeys. Smile. Out of the blue as they hopped between their shows of choice, my younger son turned around in his chair and with a serious tone to his voice asked me what I wanted for Valentine’s Day. I was rendered speechless at first as my immediate thoughts were that he took my comment seriously before I left.

Now I wanted to answer like a kid that was just asked what he wanted for Christmas, but I chose not to and I'll explain why.  Rather than ramble off my list of list of what I'd love to receive for Valentines, I simply replied - "Something that makes you feel good and comes from the loving feeling within your heart - I will adore. I don't want to have to tell you want makes me happy.”

 To me Valentines is more than just candy hearts, flowers, cards, and jewelry Etc. Valentines is a feeling inside you that is filled with many levels of love and emotions. (HOLY CRAP! LOL – I’m Laughing out loud to myself, I can’t believe I just wrote that answer, and my cat is looking at me as if I am so beneath her ha-ha). It’s taken me 25+ years to realize the real meaning behind Valentine’s Day.  My confusion started as an unrealistic day dreamer kid in elementary school. We had the typical Valentines parties where you'd make this heart shaped pouch while dreaming/worrying if it would hold thousands of your Valentines from your school mates. (My elementary school didn’t even have 400 students in the school.)

They were always made out of paper doilies in red and white that you had to glue together with a paste that some student in the class always was caught eating. The glue would crack when it dried causing anything you made to fall apart in your hands and the teacher would end up using staples to hold the dang thing together. I did my damnedest to see that every available decoration was on my heart pouch to attract people to give me a Valentine, but no matter how hard I tried to make my pouch stand out, I was always the Charlie Brown of the class, but thank goodness I never got a rock. Smile.

A perfect example of having ones extreme daydreams crushed is a math problem that never has the same answer twice. If we had 25 kids in a class, 8 would put my name on their Valentines and usually two would say, I would have given you a Valentine, but I ate it on the bus on the way to school. As I grew through the years, Feb 14th, became just a day filled with all the store heart shaped propaganda and fine cut diamonds that put you in a trance as you gazed upon them displayed in perfectly illuminated cases on black velvet. Oh, oh, and we must not forget those dang heart shaped chocolate filled boxes that made you feel that if you didn’t get one of those, you were a no body. Now all those things are nice, but being a single young lady just after high school, my Valentine dream was nothing that came in a box, however I would have still taken it if it had been drenched in Hershey’s melted chocolate, cherries and whipped cream…..phew….is it getting hot in here?

I guess I should share with you what’s got me feeling rather warm, but my story is that it is the wood stove – that’s my story and I’m sticking to it, but for my readers… lean in close to your computer - I’m going to share a secret with you about my unrealistic thinking; it’s just you reading this right? Check to be sure that nobody is looking over your shoulder at work? Kids are watching Barney?  OK, here it goes,  I lived with the hopes that maybe one day I'd be whisked away like some lucky golden skinned girl with long locks (which I have never looked like in my life) in a romance novel that just had her earth shook by some handsome guy riding a big black horse on the beach. He extends his hand down, and of course I grab it (Come on ladies feel yourselves grabbing his hand it’s OK, it’s just a hand.) and he pulls me on his horse with him and we go riding into the sunset. I’ll leave the rest for your imagination. I don’t want to be accused of writing a porn script. *wink*

Well needless to say, when I did leave near beaches, no pets were allowed. Dang the bad luck. Now when I got married, for the first three years I tried to make Valentines something extra special, but my ability to do so always ended up like a gas covered paper airplane landing on a flaming barbecue. (I see now that I was trying to hard then) I learned that over the year I found that making a cake and card got the job done. (Obviously I didn’t try as hard after) I know sad to refer to it as a job. Stick with me now, as Ricky would say on I love Lucy – Lucy you have some esplainin’ to do. So let me share a story with you to esplain’. (I tried to write the word as if Ricky Ricardo was saying it in person.)
 The Woman with the Broken Heart
AKA: Wilted Flowers
written by: Stacey L. Bolin 2/6/2013

A woman had made the mistake of letting a family members kind gesture burrow a negative hole in her heart on beautiful sunny Valentine’s Day in the early 90’s. She had always had serious, and I mean very serious issues, with sneaky people who try to take advantage of nice people. Many years ago she stood idly by as she watched this happen to her husband time and time again, because when she would express her distrust for someone, she was accused trying to be a controling untrusting bitch. She had been a stay at home mom with a two year old son and another one on the way, so to say that she wasn’t emotional was an understatement.
She had made a cake and had all the fancy icing with cinnamon hearts, she had gotten her husband and son cards and had a special dinner made waiting hot in the oven. All day long like she felt like a kid in a candy store - waiting anxiously for a card, a phone call filled with loving words, flowers delivered to her home, something, but knowing money was tight and her husband wasn’t the spontaneous romantic type, she also told herself not to get her heart set on anything like this. She was very disappointed when the day slowly turned to night and her husband had come home with only a story to tell her about his day at work. After dinner they sat in the living room and talked. He was so proud of something he had done that she could see he was busting at the seams to tell someone. She had hoped what he had to say would reveal a card with his hand penned words of his love for her. As the words to his story grew long with explanation, she felt a sense of panic being to consume her.

He had always been a person that loved to do good deeds for people. He had a kind and gentle heart, which is just one of many reasons why she fell in love with him. But this one time was when she realized that even the ones she loved could hurt her without even realizing it and to this day, he never understood how something so simple could hurt her so deeply.

He went on to tell her a story about how he made somebody smile, never realizing that he had fallen victim to another person’s sneaky verbal manipulation. A lady who was a secretary in the office for the company he worked for was always sharing her personal stories with him and decided to make him feel sorry for her. She went on and on about how her boyfriend was not attentive to her, didn’t make her feel good, and he’d never given her flowers. She knew perfectly well what she was doing, and with him being a nice guy, he never realized that the kind gesture that he was about to extend would haunt him for years to come. On his way back from a job, he stopped at a vendor that had five gallon buckets, displayed in a 7-11 parking lot, on the corner of Woodmore and Church Road, which were filled with flower arrangements. It was at that moment he picked up a bouquet handed over his last seven dollars and headed back to the office.
As her husband told his tale, she felt like she had just been slapped by a strong hand wearing a razor covered glove. She was having a hard time containing the lump that was rapidly growing in her throat as he went on to describe how beautiful the rose, in the center of the arrangement was. She felt her heart begin to pound and just wanted to run out of the room, but found the ability to ask – “Where were her Valentines flowers?” to which he replied innocently – I didn’t have enough money for two. She melted into a pool of tears, something that he had never seen her do. He had no idea that he had completely broken her heart. He tried to cover it by saying that he had forgot it was Valentines, as he knelt before her while she sat in her chair. It was too late, the damage had been done. People for years told her to let it go, forget about it. So let me ask you men and women out there, if you had been in this situation, the one who’s significant other remembered another, but not you?  Would you just forget the hurt you felt?  Could you forget, or would you just tell yourself some lame excuse? Would you address the other person who had been praying on your loved one?  Unfortunately during that time she was non-confrontational and taught herself how to live with a fear she had now believed to be true. The fear of being forgotten, by the one she loves the most, which haunted her with every day closer to Valentine’s.  

Over the years she was able to slowly glue the pieces of her broken heart back together and needless to say, his flowers we’re not welcome in their home for many years. It wasn’t until August of 2012, when they both fully understood why she had reacted in the way that she did and that her husband never knew of the sexual assault that had happened to her four months before they met.
 
***
 

My reason for sharing this story with you is that it was a huge life lesson for me – any why you ask? I was the women in the story. I’m not proud of my behavior then as I was suffering from a traumatic event from my past that I had chosen to block, that was briefly triggered by the hurt I felt at that moment I learned about the flowers to the secretary. I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t pissed at this ladies actions, but I no longer cry about it and I no longer try to take ownership of what the women in the office had done. I no longer wonder what had I done wrong, as the answer is nothing! He was being kind and she was taking advantage of his kindness.

Through a process called Congnitive Therapy, I am able to disassociate myself from the hurt I felt about the flowers and finally tell the story without feeling emotional sorrow. I am told this feeling means that I have figured out how to understand that it wasn't anything I said or did that made another person do what they chose to do. I am choosing on this day to go past it and was the reason I wanted to share it today. I used to laugh at the people who claimed that the more you talked about what hurts you, the better you begin to feel.  They're right. The past is the past, and as I walk the road to whatever recovery that will eventually be bestowed upon me, I have learned a new way to bring my Valentine’s heart back to life and looking forward to what the future has instore.  

Today, I am learning how to understand the sexual assualt and painful memories that are triggered in and out of my daily life. I walk with my head up and carry a smile because I still feel I have to hide that there are days when I'd rather be home under the covers and hide away from the world. I am choosing to reach for the strength to forgive those who deserve forgiving. I can’t change what happened in the past, but if I keep reliving it, I’ll never know what my future is. I feel like Virginia when she learned that there really is a Santa Clause and that it is the giving of one’s self, of their time, of their touch - that is the true gift of love and means more than any gift you would get in the stores. That with every card, or gift that is given, and don’t get me wrong, people like the material things, I know I do, but If I had to choose something materialistic vs. a gift in  the form of compassion, passion, love, caring, listening, understanding, trust, a walk hand in hand, and so much more, I’ll give up the material item and enjoy the icing on cake - the ability to share these feelings of love with the one I hold most dearly in my heart and enjoy and appreciate the gift of life, family, and togetherness we have shared over the past twenty-one years.
Many thanks for taking time from your day to read my words. Please understand that everyone handles things in a different way. I just wanted to share my story with you. I’m not looking for sympathy and I’m not trying make you feel bad in anyway shape or form. This is just a life lesson that took me years to study for…I’m passing, but only with a C+ for now. Smile.

Until my next post – Blog ya later alligator.
 
 
As to the special man in my life - I'm sending you a song. Thank you for being patient with me. I know I had not been the best person to be around years ago. Thank you for waiting to let me show you the real me that has been trying to get out from behind this wall I had built around myself. Elephant Shoes Forever!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1_lfpr9bT7k
 
 
 
 
 

Sunday, February 3, 2013

IT'S SUPER SUPER SUPER BOWL SUNDAY SUNDAY SUNDAY!

HAVE A SAFE
AND HAPPY
SUPER BOWL SUNDAY!


 
 
Who will win????


 
 
VS

 
 

 
 
 
Be sure to watch and see...
and may the best team win!