Dave Matthews and a Grey Street to divorce.

"Oh how she wishes it was different

She prays to God most every night

And though she swears He doesn't listen

There's still hope in her He might

She says I pray

But oh that they fall on deaf ears

Am I supposed to take it on myself

To get out of this place"

Dave Matthews - Grey Street

Four years ago today began the first days of the rest of my life.  On Sunday we had arrived back in Colorado from Indiana visiting family and friends, as well as getting Sage and Saxton baptized.  Monday was my wake up call that my Ex wanted a divorce.  He had told me as much in Indiana, however being home the reality had finally set in.  Fast Forward

Last Sunday my baby sister Colleen, her husband Jed, my husband Jerry and I went on a road trip to the Gorge to see my beloved Dave Matthews.  (I have seen him several times before, the first being March 7th, 1995 in Fort Wayne, Indiana.)  As I have mentioned before, he is my favorite, the soundtrack to my life.  As he sang each song, my smile grew larger, the lyrics rolled effortlessly off my tongue and my body danced a silly dance... I was truly content.  (The Head and The Heart and Lord Huron opened and they were both wonderful!!!)

Dave Matthew's Set List for September 1st, 2013 courtesy  of Dave Matthew's Band Website

 1.  One Sweet World 

 2.  Squirm 

 3.  The Best of Whats Around 

 4.  When The World Ends 

 5.  Recently 

 6.  (Water Into Wine) 

 7.  Gravedigger 

 8.  If Only 

 9.  Lie In Our Graves 

10.  Gaucho 

11.  Kashmir 

12.  Digging a Ditch 

13.  Drive In Drive Out 

14.  Lover Lay Down 

15.  Pig 

16.  Crush 

17.  Snow Outside 

18.  Funny The Way It Is 

19.  Pantala Naga Pampa 

20.  Rapunzel 

-------- ENCORE -------- 

21.  Some Devil *

22.  You and Me 

23.  Grey Street 

Show Notes:

* Dave Solo

 (song name) indicates a partial song

  indicates a segue into next song

Dave never disappoints and sang for close to three hours,  ending with a spectacular encore and a song very close to my heart, Grey Street.

Over thirteen years ago I met a special friend on a Mom's Website called Babycenter.  After logging hundreds of hours on the phone and sharing our lives via the internet,  we finally met each other in New York City in 2005 (I still remember braving the streets of NYC with my four littles ones, aged 1, 3, 5 & 7 and her 3 & 5 year old).  Then in 2006, she came out with her two little ones to visit me.  Unfortunately my Ex overstepped his bounds with her and I lost her friendship for several years.  (We have since become friends again, all in part to my getting divorced.)  This re-connection was a positive step for me as she was one of the first people in my life to really encourage me to leave, to quit tolerating what was going on.  Also a huge Dave fan, she brought to my attention how "Grey Street" was almost a mantra to my life, even sent me a bootlegged version she had come across.  Looking back now, I can only thank her for letting me know that I did have a choice to "kick out the windows" and get out. 

After the concert Jerry and I (My sister, who is now almost 13 weeks pregnant and her husband headed home a little before us) walked with the mass of Dave fans who like us, were also camping at the Gorge.  It was so much fun to be with a literal swarm of people who were jovial and happy, some singing at the top of their lungs.  Our campsite was awesome and I fell asleep listening to the hum of the campground and the occasional firework.  As I though back to the final song, I realized that the emotions that flooded me as I listened to the words of Grey Street were endured in my past and it was time to put those feelings to rest.  I chose to instead think back how many of the other songs made me feel... cheerful and at peace, I held on to that, to carry into my future.  

Side Note:  Today begins another 30 days of posts... it's my dream to write and I won't get there if I don't start here.  This post is dedicated to my friend and our mutual love for DMB.  

    

        

Pandora Radio's Box.

My blogs come to me in funny ways sometimes.  Today it was while listening to Dave Matthews Band on Pandora Internet Radio.  My two favorite stations are DMB and Michael Buble'.  They tend to have a variety of songs that I just love and also tend to elicit all kinds of memories, sort of like opening Pandora's Box.

I am a music person.  This might be a cliche' phrase, but I truly live by the soundtrack of all kinds of music.  I run to it, bike, do laundry, work in the yard, paint benches, pack, move and unpack to music.  I started all of my little ones young, Savannah being the first, with all kinds of music.  For example I used to dance with her to DMB during the evening when she was fussy.  When I was pregnant with Saxton, I frequently listened to , Time to Say Goodbye, by Andrea Bocelli (which is probably one of my top five favorite songs of all time.)  After she was born, if she got fussy in the car, I would blast it and she'd quiet right down.  I remember once while we lived in Albuquerque, blaring it in grocery parking lot because she was fussing and I was trying to get Sage, Sam and Savannah in the van (at one point I had four in carseats) and the groceries loaded up.  People were driving by giving me strange looks, but I didn't care, music was saving my sanity.

I actually found Pandora while I was a student at Colorado State. I would put on classical and listen to it on my library days (Mon, Wed, Friday I would spend the entire day studying/researching while the kids were in school.)  I swear I should give the station credit for my grades and degree, after how much the music helped me to relax, concentrate and block out all distractions.

One of my favorite things about it is that I never know what song is going to come next.  It may be a Dave song from a decade ago, or something new that I haven't heard yet (often I hear songs on Pandora even before they hit the radio, sometimes months in advance.)  However, at times this experience can be bittersweet.  Songs are similar to photographs for me and often carry a memory with them.  They often transport me back to certain times in my life wether I want to go there or not.  I remember my counselor telling me once that memories and hurt from the past can be likened to bus stops on a regular route.  You may choose not to get off, but eventually you will circle back around again and the same "stop" will be waiting for you.  I still haven't quite mastered dealing with this concept, i'll let you know when I do.

As I approach the anniversary of a series of pinnacle moments in my life, I am back to many of those stops on a particularly painful route.   This morning a song stopped me dead in my tracks (I was working, typing orders on my computer).  It reminded me that I need to get off and confront some demons that I have been avoiding.  You might think that I see certain music as a negative for reminding me of such things.  Instead, I view it as a positive example that no matter what painful things you might have dealt with in the past, you are always offered a second chance to make the next memory beautiful.  Ironically, as I finish typing this, Dave Matthews' "Baby" is playing and it think his lyrics are strangely appropriate to end this blog...

Nothing is here to stay

Everything has to begin and end

A ship in a bottle won't sail

All we can do is dream that the

wind will blow us 

across the water

A ship in a bottle set sail

Something Wicked is coming this Way

Someone very close to me is currently separated from their spouse with the understanding that they want a divorce.  They believe they are done.

This position sucks any-which way you look at it.  I have discussed divorce before and the bottom line is, you have to be at your rock bottom in order to put yourself through what can only be described as Hell.  As I have also said, I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy.

On the other hand, if there is an up side to the whole process, it's the fact that if you ever doubted the person you were, or maybe lived in a fog, lied to yourself, or just plain ignored what your heart was telling you, that all has to end when going through a divorce.  Personally it was if I was waking up from a self-induced coma.  There was a healing to finally facing the reality of my life and making the choice to do something about it.    

I remember my counselor using the example of a voice inside of you, telling you what you don't necessarily want to hear.  At first it comes in a whisper, then a normal tone, then a shout and then finally it's as if someone is screaming at you to make a change, to do something.  When you finally do make that decision, your confirmation is that feeling of a thousand pounds being taken off your shoulders.  You find peace.

My message to my sweet loved one and those affected is, it does feel like something wicked has come into your life.  A dark cloud.  But I promise you, the sun does shine again.  Life is never perfect, heart ache never absent, but life is better, lighter, happier.  Your heart free and available to love truly, maybe for first time.  

Side Note:  Today was totally hectic, running here and there, literally.  Then tonight I went to Sage's band concert (Jerry was able to meet me at the school, get the boys and pick up Saxton from soccer so I could actually listen to her play.)  Anyway, at one point the stars aligned and everyone was playing on key and in unison, allowing the music to lift you up.  This is a perfect analogy to my post.  Sometimes, you just have to deal with all the chaos in order to finally find a moment of perfect harmony.  

Healing

Anyone who has ever gone through heartache or has come out of an unhealthy situation, can tell you one of the hardest parts of it all, is simply to heal.  I have tried so many different things, including trying  nothing at all and the truth is that it simply takes time.  Today my sister and I were talking about some pretty intense, painful feelings and God came up.  To be honest I feel like I have prayed myself into a hole.  I am trying to be a good Catholic girl and leave it all to God, but I feel like it's more than that.  My sister said something that made sense, that God isn't going to necessarily change the tough things about your life, but he is there while you are going through them.  The funny thing is after she said that, my eyes opened a bit and while we were talking, I actually felt God.  I told my sister that he gave her to me, he gave all of us (my siblings) to each other.  He knew what we would face and he made sure to give us a small army of unconditional love.

We re-emphasized what we both already knew, healing is hard.  I began to believe all the negative bull shit that was fed to me for most of my life.  It started to cover me and then slowly seep into my soul.  Removing all of that takes time, support, patience and the hardest kind of forgiveness, forgiving yourself.  My sister and I also discussed some techniques of how to deal with all of this.  As we were talking, one thing became clear; we could often be supportive to each other, to other family and friends in need, but we couldn't find the strength to give that same support to ourselves.  Do as I say, not as I do.  Forgive everyone but not yourself.  Love others, but not always yourself.  My husband also helps me with this a lot.  He reminds me that I wouldn't stand by and let someone talk bad about my children, family or friends, so why allow self deprecation?  It's something I need to continue to work on, something that many of the loved ones in my life who have been through the wringer need to work on, it's called healing.


There is a movie that my whole family loves, Prince of Tides and there is one scene in particular that exemplifies our relationship.  It's where the brother and sister (tired of all the fighting and pain in their lives) run and jump off a dock and stay under the water, where it is peaceful.

They are in their own world of quiet and harmony that only they can understand.  That is what my siblings are for me, what my sister and I experienced today.  That unbreakable bond that comes when two people truly know each other and love one another, no mater what.
That is where the healing begins.

         

Running, Peace, Boston and My Momma.

I started running competitively in middle school.  Running has always been an outlet for me and even at that young age, I found peace in the sport.  Looking back on all the meets in both track and cross-country, my mom was by far my biggest fan.  She literally blew out her vocal chords cheering on my siblings and I during our sporting events and I will always be grateful for her loving and unconditional support.   Win or lose, my mom was there with a smile on her face at the end of each race.

At some point in time, around the end of my high school career, my mom started running with me.  Maybe you could say that my mom taught me to love and I taught her to run.  We started walking together at first, then jogging and then slowly but surely we began to run.  Looking back and remembering those runs up and down the back-country roads of Indiana makes my heart happy.  We would talk, laugh and even sometimes cry as we dealt with both the happy and the heartbreak in our lives.

Chicago Marathon 2012

Unfortunately I also dealt with a lot of injury and sickness as a result of running.  Over the years I had knee and back injuries as well as chronic bronchitis and sports induced asthma.  Ironically these issues led my mom and I to running our first half marathon.  In the spring of 1996, I was running track for Indiana University and came down with walking pneumonia and was forced to take leave from the team.  I was heartbroken, but was not cleared to continue the grueling three hours of sprint conditioning I had been undertaking.  So my mom, knowing how disappointed I was, came up with the idea of running the Indy Mini, a half marathon held around the Indy 500 every year.  During that race, my mom the runner, was truly born.  She has gone on to run multiple Marathons and had even qualified to run Boston this year.  However, at the urging of her family as a result of the toll that the October Chicago Marathon took on her, she didn't.  None the less, I know her heart was there that day and aches for all of her fellow runners and their supporters who were mercilessly attacked during one of the most peaceful sporting events that graces our country.

 

Today President Barack Obama spoke of the resilience of those in Boston by paralleling the runner who fell, only to get back up again and finish the race.  I really related to that, as I am sure many did.  He also spoke of Martin Richard, the eight year old little boy who was killed during the Boston Bombings and his symbolic picture of Peace as seen in the Boston Globe.  So today, my mom's birthday, I decided to run for her, Martin and all those affected by the Boston Bombings.  My mom is known in Placitas as "Our Lady of the open road" because she waves to all those she passes.  This inspired me to greet everyone who passed me tonight with a salutation of my own, a peace sign.  With Martin and my mom in my heart I smiled and said "Peace" to each and every car that went by. 

As I said, I may have taught my mom to run, but she taught me to love.  I believe that the ability I have to love deeply, talk to strangers like friends and even feel their pain like they were my own family, is a gift from my mom.  She carries the weight of the world on her shoulders and has been my own inspirational example of how to get back up when you've been knocked down.  I could have just run for me tonight, but because of my mom I ran for more, I ran for peace, for healing and for love.

I love you momma!  You are a true light in the lives of everyone you know... and even those you don't!

Happy Birthday!

I just lost it.

Snapchat I sent to Savannah!

This morning Max found a school picture of Savannah "sister."  He showed it to me and told me about "sister" as he calls her these days.  He even put her picture to "sleep" and then they watched Thomas together.  Then, out of the blue, he talked about Savannah and Sam coming.  He says "they are going to pick me up."  It made me both happy and sad for Max to talk about them.  I lost it though when I found Max at the front window waiting for them to come, for some reason he thought they would be there.  I too wished more than anything he was right, but knowing in reality they were hundreds of miles away.  Now I am just sitting here crying, missing my two oldest babies like crazy.

Some days are better than others, but it's times like this that I don't know if my heart can take them being gone for so long.  This week is especially hard because Sam's thirteenth birthday is on Sunday.  I can't believe he is going to be a teenager and I wish that I was able to be there with him.  This morning I found some socks of his from his toddler days and felt a sentimental pang when I put them on Max.  The sweatshirt Max is wearing was also Sam's, these are the hand-me-downs I just adore.  

The choice to get divorced in order to bring a healthier life for your children and yourself is a really hard decision and one I did not make lightly.  I believe that our quality of life has improved and we're slowly healing after what we have all gone through. Unfortunately, some of the residual pain and time away from my little ones is something I am sure I will never get over, nor get used to.  They are my heart and soul. 

Love to all of my babies and special hugs and kisses across the miles to my Savannah and Birthday Boy Sam.  I love you to the moon and stars and back!

Death by Divorce

Tonight my husband and I were playing around on Google Earth and I decided to show him my bike route from my house in Fort Collins to Colorado State.  My last semester before I graduated, I made a vow not to drive my car to class and to ride instead.  Thinking back over that I time, I remembered how much I loved those rides.  The path was beautiful and it allowed me a fresh start in the morning and a stress-decompression time in the afternoon.  Recalling memories from this time in my life, is almost like recalling a dream.  I haven't been back to Fort Collins since I moved.  This isn't because I didn't like it there, I did.  I think it is more because I needed time to lick my wounds and heal from my divorce and the pain I went through leading up to that point.

Until last June, I also had not been back to the Midwest since my last visit there with my Ex to baptize Sage and Saxton.  It was there and then that he told me he wanted a divorce.  The act of going back and reliving those, as well as other painful memories of the past was not easy.  It was as if I was dealing with the death of part of me, years of my life lost in a void of space and time.

Maybe my experience is unique in the fact that I did move so far away at the very moment that one part of my life ended and another began.  Not only that, I moved to a place where no one knew me.  They didn't know what I had been through, who my friends were, anything about the journey I had been on with my four oldest children.  It was like starting my life completely over, a clean slate.  However, it also meant the near death of my past, both good and bad, including memories of my life with my Ex and our experiences with our four children, family and friends.  You could liken it to the act of getting rid of a tumor, where sometimes you have to lose good tissue and healthy parts of yourself in order to get rid of the bad.

This "death" is hard sometimes.  I often wish to bridge the gap between my two worlds and allow some of the good to come over into my new life.  Most importantly, I don't want my children to lose their memories because of the association with the negative.  They experienced their childhood during those times and deserve to cherish special memories, as well as feel free to talk about them.  As an example, my Ex and I took several cross country road trips, spanning several states.  These unique trips are still priceless to me as I recall introducing my children to the ocean for the first time, the mountains, great cities and spectacular monuments of our country.  These are the moments that deserve to live.

Our bodies and minds are amazing things.  When we are injured, broken, our body knows to shut down and only run the most important functions in order to heal.  People who have grave brain injuries often go into comas in order to allow for this necessary healing.  I think painful emotional experiences result in a similar phenomenon.   We shut down and only deal with what we have to until we are better.  Then, as we "awake" again, we might feel pain, and have to conceptualize our injury, but hopefully we have had enough healing time in order to deal with it.

I still have rough days as a result of what I have been through and continue to go through,  but thankfully the good far outweigh the bad.  I am finally able to begin to look back and bring life to those memories.  I believe this is all part of the healing process and hopefully someday I can permanently bridge the gap between my pre-divorce and after life.  Until then, I'll liken the process to my rides back in Colorado, and I'll remember the joy of the experience instead of the dips in the road.

Dreaming about Grandpa

Last night when I went to bed I was feeling sad because I was missing my Savannah and Sam. Trying to help myself feel better, I felt under my pillow for my Grandpa's Rosary and it wasn't there. Remembering I had just changed my sheets and put it up I got out of bed to retrieve it. As soon as I had it in my hand, a comfortable peace surrounded me allowing me to fall asleep.

A little back story on my Grandpa's Rosary... He passed away in January of 2010. This was particularly hard, because I was going through a divorce and had just moved (December 2009) to Washington. In addition, I had just found out I was pregnant.  Things were quite stressful and I was emotionally and physically drained.  Jerry (my now husband) was kind enough to watch the girls so I could fly to Chicago to meet up with my cousins and attend my Grandpa's funeral in Indiana.  It was a bittersweet weekend.  It was wonderful to see my family and for all of us cousins to be together for the first time in years, but very hard to say good-bye to the one true father figure that had been there for me my whole life.  In addition, it was heartbreaking to see my Grandma so sad.  One magical moment was when all of the cousins surrounded my Grandma in front of my Grandpa's casket and willed our love to heal her pain and hurt.  On Tuesday after the funeral all of us cousins were told to go pick something special from my Grandpa's Office.  I was happy to get his elephant, something he had as long as I could remember.  From there my cousins and I headed back to Chicago so they could drop me at the airport and just as we were leaving my Cousin Christi asked me if I wanted this Rosary.  I said yes and took the black beaded Italian Rosary and held it in my hand the whole way to the airport.  We didn't hit any traffic, which was a miracle and after I made it home safe and sound, my faith in the Rosary began.

Ever since then, I have spent most of my nights with my Grandpa's Rosary under my pillow.  As I progressed in my pregnancy I held the Rosary tighter.  I brought it with me to a late night Doctor visit when I began to have complications in my third month and when my belly grew I would lay it across my stomach so my Grandpa could watch over the new life I was growing.   When Max was born early and was in the NICU, the nurse hung his Rosary in his incubator.  After we brought him home I hung "Grandpa" (as I now called the Rosary) between my bed and Max's bassinet.  

"Grandpa" has gone with me all sorts of places, on Vacation, to visit family and even on my Honeymoon.  I joked with my Grandma and told her I took "Grandpa" on a Jet Ski in the Caribbean Ocean.  My Grandpa always meant so much to me and I feel that he is with me through his Rosary, as silly as that might sound.

One regret I have is that my Grandpa never met Max.  I whispered to him that I was pregnant when I said my good-byes, but that wasn't the same.  I was lucky enough to get to go back and visit my grandma last June and introduce her to Max, but sadly, there was no Grandpa there to laugh at his little quirks and to watch him share food with Grandma.

Grandpa and Savannah Summer 2006

Grandpa and Saxton

This is where my dream I had last night comes in.  My dreams are frequent and unbelievably eclectic, strange and sometimes very intense.  I often wake up and can't quite comprehend what the message was and most times, there is a fine line between a dream and nightmare, but not this morning.  Today when I woke up, I just felt happy.  I can't remember all the details, but one I do remember quite vividly,  was that I was on a path and had somehow gotten separated from Max.  I turned around to look for him and he was quite a ways back walking away from me holding my Grandpa's hand.  At first I tried to get a picture, but couldn't.  Then I just ran to them and scooped up Max in my arms, hugging him tightly.  Then both Max and I kissed my Grandpa's cheek.  It was so real, I could even feel his whiskers.  My sweet Grandpa.  I have dreamed about him several times lately, but this dream was my favorite.  He had finally gotten to meet my Max and I was able to kiss my Grandpa one more time.

I don't know the exact relationship between dreams and heaven, but I believe that sometime last night the two intertwined.  My Grandpa was with me again, loving me, meeting his youngest great-grandson and I was loving him back.


I love you Grandpa to the moon and stars and to heaven and back!    

2:44 am love letter and thank you note

Do you ever wish you could teleport yourself? I do, all the time. I have all these beautiful people spread across the country who I just would like to give a hug. I want to thank these people for walking some of the darkest paths in my life with me. Some held the light for minutes and some for months or even years. I love these wonderful people. You gave me friendship, you gave me hope, you gave me all kinds of love, even the tough kind. Some gave me a place to sleep when I was at my lowest point and needed refuge. Others traveled great distances to be by my side when I needed them. Thank you. Hopefully over time I can thank you more fully than I am right now... Just know I love you and you will always hold a very special place in my heart.