Side A

In 2014 I had a much different story to tell, a story that is now a part of my life, but no longer my life. I struggled with the thought of continuing my story under goblueblog and it just didn’t feel right.

I am now blogging at … where I plan to build upon the life that was created out of the chaos of losing my husband on so many levels. It feels like forever ago but in reality its only been 2 years, 4 months, 28 days… and yes, I do still think about time, it’s just not as all-consuming as it once was. 

Welcome to “Side A” of my life (I wonder how many will understand that reference?!) where it’s not about starting over, but starting again.



The Fourth D

Its been almost a year, yes a year, since my last post. The release I felt in writing that post has carried me far and then on some level not far enough. I still think about M. Only now, I’m content with the memory. Admittedly, sometimes it lingers a bit longer than I want it to, but when it’s gone, I dont feel so hollow.

In my last post I spoke about my three D’s and how I was waiting for the 4th one… Deliverence. I’m still holding out for that but God did give me a fourth “D”.

After a very emotionaly charged weekend which included copious amounts of frozen pizza and cookies, I sat on my bed and in the stillness of the night said aloud, God, I would like a boyfriend and a dog. Boy, if that statement doesn’t show my state of mind– clearly I wanted companionship. HA!

The next morning, after said binge weekend, I decided that I needed to swear off solid food and decided to get a smoothie. As I was walking out of the smoothie shop, there was a little puppy running loose in the parking lot. I distinctly remember saying to myself, “aww, look at that little puppy.” Next thing I see is the puppy running towards the main street. I paused for a second certain that someone was chasing it but nope, nothing. So I said, in an effort to divert its path towards the street, Hey buddy, hey buddy. The puppy ran directly to me, jumped INTO my car, went to the back seat and fell asleep. I remember standing there with my smoothie in my hand expecting someone to come running after it. Nothing. I was in shock. All I knew was that I needed to get to work and what was I supposed to do with a puppy? I was wearing a belt that day, something I do once every 10 years, so I fashioned my belt into a leash and took the puppy to a vet to see if she was microchipped. Nope. I posted notices in the neighborhood, notified animal control. Nothing. After three days, I decided that I could not keep a puppy – I was barely keeping myself – so I surrendered her to animal control. No one picked her. The Humane Society took her in (phew, she wasn’t going to be euthanized) but still no one claimed or choose this sweet puppy. And each day, I watched the Humane Society’s facebook page and went to adoption events that they held and still no one choose her. Each night my heart felt more and more conviction – was this MY dog? Did God actually give me a dog? Finally I couldn’t take it, I submitted my application, paid the fee and brought home my sweet Khaleesi/Cassie/Sydney/Bellatrix and finally the name that she actually accepted and suited her, Maggie May.

That was nine months ago and I’ve never looked back. I shamelessly love on her, kiss her nose and rub her belly on demand. I buy her toys and treats not because I have to but because how can I not? I laugh at her antics and constantly say to myself, I can’t believe its only been 9 months, she feels like she has been a part of my life forever. And for her birthday I am throwing her a birthday party at her favorite doggie day camp, complete with treat bags for the other dogs and pizza for the staff.

When I tell the story I say that I went back to the smoothie shop the next day in hopes of seeing that glorious man who would become my boyfriend, but alas no such luck. And when I get to the part of how I rescued MM, I have to pause and say, no, I think she rescued me.




…..And what if trials of this life, The rain, the storms, the hardest nights, Are Your mercies in disguise? Blessings by Laura Story

I was recently challenged by a dear friend to write about my goals, dreams, and plans, no matter how lofty they might seem. I have given it some thought and I’m embarrassed to say that I don’t have any right now. It’s been a long time since I’ve considered those for myself. They always took “us” into consideration and the question was pretty much what do I need to do to help our family?

For so many years, any goal or plan I had was to help improve our station in life. My goal was to have a good job so that we’d have insurance that was sufficient to meet our needs. I wanted to return to school to improve my skills so that I could get a promotion to get more money for us, when people liked my handmade cards enough to pay for them, I worked to find events and stores that would carry them so that I could bring in extra income to help us.

Now that its just me, and I guess its time to take her sage advice to heart. She so eloquently shared that now its my turn. It’s time to make choices for my future, choices that don’t include you.  So today, while I don’t have an answer for future plans outside of just remembering to breathe, I am going to choose to focus on my blessings and maybe soon I will be able to share some goals, dreams, and plans for my future.

  • I am blessed to have a Savior who loves me no matter how many times I present myself as unlovable with my words,  actions, and attitudes
  • I am blessed to have an amazing network of friends, many of whom are traveling this road with me, quietly holding one hand and handing me tissue with the other
  • I am blessed to have the most supportive brother who upon hearing the news started the conversation with “First of all, I love you and you are strong enough to get through this” and ended it with, “Its a good thing he wasn’t there when I was”
  • I am blessed to have a Pastor who upon hearing the news of your infidelity immediately called you out on it, made you take responsibility by telling you that you had 24 hours to tell me or he and his wife would be over to tell me themselves
  • I am blessed that my new route into work allows me to pass the cows that I love
  • I am blessed that my job includes a boss who immediately says “Yes!” when I walk into her office and say, “I need someone to be angry/sad/mad with me, will you?”
  • I am blessed to have an outlet with this blog. I’ve received some very sweet comments that have encouraged my soul.  I love that my first comment was from someone who called you an a$$hole (even now that makes me smile–thanks Pabloswife) And that so many others are willing to share their story and make me feel not so alone. Be sure to check out their stories ———>
  • And lest you think I forgot them, I am blessed to have amazing parents who have taken me in not just once, but now twice to help me get back on my feet. The first time was four years ago when they helped move us move across country so that we could find our balance after losing everything in Arizona. And now they are letting me occupy a small slice of their homelife again all the while never making me feel like a burden or a failure for the life that I somehow seem to be living.

As I look back at my list, it’s really about all the people that seem to have MY back, something you wouldn’t, didn’t, or couldn’t do. Thank you J for the challenge. I really am blessed.

Going, Going, Gone

The language… oh the language. I’m embarrassed that I sound like a sailor.

I find myself constantly apologizing to God, to my friends, to co-workers. I keep referring to you in some not kind words and I know better than that. In my grieving process, I’m apparently in the cursing stage. Hopefully it passes quickly because honestly its not me. I really don’t like foul language– I’ve always believed that with so many words in the English language I should certainly be able to come up with one that would work. Plus that’s not how I was raised and my mom would probably wash my mouth out with soap…that is, if she didn’t think the same of you as I do right now. But I’m sorry, its childish and you know me well enough to know that it not me.

There is a new part of me emerging. I wasn’t kidding when I said that as long as she is living my recycled life that I was free to get a new one. I’ve had more time to get to know my friends better. They have rallied around me in a way that still humbles me. The best part of receiving love is that you are energized to return it and show it to others. I am calmer, not every moment of my day is spent rehashing the events of D-day. Its as if their love and prayers carry me throughout the day. I will never be able to thank them enough and while I pray they don’t go through anything as life-shattering as I have been going through–I do pray that should their world get rocked that I can be the friend to them as they are to me.

I find that I have moments that I get excited to consider the new world that is mine. I think about venues around town, places that I can experience and explore without having to do a recon mission to scope it out to come home and prepare you for the environment. I really used to think you were spontaneous and maybe when we first met, you were; but as our years together passed, you weren’t as open to new experiences as you led people to believe.  Maybe it was just me, I’ll never know.

You called as sweet as can be asking for my help with your insurance and the pharmacy. This was quite the change from the two phone conversations just 24 and 48 hours prior.  Sometimes, I’m not sure if I’m coming or going. No that’s not true, I’m definitely going. I’m going to be stronger, I’m going to be smarter and I’m going to one day find someone that will love me the way that I deserve to be loved.

No More Questions

Sleep, sleep everywhere, but not a wink for me. 

I love sleep. More so now that I don’t get much anymore. Regardless of when I go to bed, I wake up faithfully at 2:45 am every day. I wonder do you sleep? Is it easier for you now that your secret isn’t a secret? I try to force my eyes to stay closed because opening them to the bleakness around me only serves as a reminder that you are gone.

I’m gone too; at least my stuff is gone. It’s partly in storage and partly at the new place, which I move into later this week. Currently, I’m sleeping on the couch, your couch. Our living room looks the same and walking into the rental no one would even know at a glance that anything is amiss until your eyes adjust and you realize the pictures are gone and the kitchen is empty. Was it the same with our marriage? On the surface, people, including me, saw what they wanted to see. But when looking more closely (or in my case, looking back) could one see that this was just a shell of a life? A lie you were living?

I think back to a conversation we had a week before D-Day. You questioned me as to when my parents were leaving since we were going to housesit for them. When I told you the date, your reply was odd. You said it wasn’t soon enough. You wanted to use the time we had watching two homes, theirs and ours, as an opportunity to formally separate. Now I see that you wanted the separation so that you would feel justified doing what you were doing. It would have been easier on your conscience to say to me, “while we were separated, I had an affair.” And since we would have already been separated, your reputation would have been intact in the eyes of your friends when we divorced because you could just play it off that it didn’t work out between us never having to give up your dirty little secret, never having to answer any questions. But I said no to a separation and you weren’t strong enough get off of the train you were already on.

Your lies haven’t all caught up to you. I’m still amazed when I discover yet another one, although the amazement is wearing thin and becoming more the norm. Your friends have stopped asking me about you. Maybe because I don’t know about you or maybe because they do. I’ve stopped asking questions because it really does not matter anymore. Twenty-four days ago, you told me you had an affair; today you are still having an affair. Those are my facts, those are my answers and this is my reality.

In just a matter of weeks, you and I will be divorced. I will become just someone that you used to know and eventually you will become someone that I used to love. Yes… used to love.