Marriage

It’s Been a While……..

Dec 29th, 2011

Quite a while actually. And a lot has happened since last time I was online. Of course, the reason for me net absence is that I moved and no longer have access to my wonderful (NOT) cable internet. Who knew I’d actually miss it, but I do. My only options are satellite net… Hughes or Wild Blue.. and as of yet I haven’t made my mind up which is the better of the two. So… no net for me.

In more pressing news… my hubby left me about three weeks ago. Packed up and moved out. Shocking? Yes, it was to me as well. But life goes on right? I’ve survived worse in my life… and then some. Needless to say, I am one angry scorned woman and you know what they say about a woman scorned.

He came up with this crazy notion that we should date each other. Date. We’re married. I don’t see how that could work and to be quite honest, I’m just a tad bit too angry for that at this moment. I honestly don’t know if I’ll ever be to a point where I trust him enough to let him back into my world. And the kids… his moving out has done a number on them too. My Lil Man is seeing a neuropsychologist for other things so I talked to the doc about it and he said Lil Man will be just fine. In fact, he said that he’ll handle this better than me. He said to just keep doing what I’m doing by trying to keep his normal routine as much as possible and he’ll bounce right back. That was a load of this mama’s mind for sure.

Who knows what the future holds… certainly not me. I’m taking each day as it comes. One day at a time as the old cliche says. So far so good.

So I decided to go back to work since I now need an income of my own. Starting January 5th, I’ll be back into the work of income taxes. Can’t say I’m really excited about it- it’s a job; one that will get me by till another comes along which will hopefully be before the end of tax season. Keep your fingers crossed and say a few prayers for me. With two kids to support, I can’t live off rental income and child support alone. BUT, I’m gonna be okay. I am, I know I am. No more Debbie Downer here… I’ve had enough of that.

Maybe with some luck my online presence will increase back to normal in the next few weeks. I’ve certainly missed you all and my lonely little blog… my outlet.

Until next time… peace & love to ya!!!

It’s not within my ability…

Jun 20th, 2011

by Nickie.

1 comment

Sometimes it is so hard to love someone who has wronged you. Sometimes it’s more than hard…it’s literally humanly impossible. That is the point I am at right now. The humanly impossible point.

Several months ago, I felt drawn to a new member of our church– someone I had known from my school days (junior high and high school). She was going though a very hard time as her husband had just been sentenced to serve ten years in prison for a crime he was wrongly accused of. I reached out to this person in love and friendship, as did our entire church. I wanted to help, didn’t know how to help, but wanted to in any way I could. Our church got together with a couple other local churches and put a new roof on her house– it was in dire need and leaking with every drop of rain. This was in December, just before Christmas. We saw her in church the Sunday after and haven’t seen her since.

This person was friended by myself, the Hubs, and several others on Facebook. Several of us contacted her periodically inviting her back to church, checking in on her and her children, etc. The Hubs contacted her to ask how things were going, etc, trying to reach out in a friendly way. That, as it turns out, was a mistake. She took his gesture as an opening for her. She began talking with him, asking him questions about our marriage, and even told him that I wanted to visit my sister in Florida because there was “another man.” She called him at work and asked him to meet her for “lunch.” He declined and ceased communication. He also defriended her on Facebook.

This person… who called herself a Christian; who took full advantage of the generosity of our church; came after my husband as if it were perfectly acceptable. The icing on the cake? After Hubs stopped communications with her, she moved on to one of my best friends and fellow church members. She began calling her husband at all hours of the day and night, asking him to “come over” because she “needed a friend.” I honestly don’t know what to think of someone like this.

I honestly had vengeance in my heart. I am ashamed to tell you the things that were going through my head, and won’t. Thanks to my good friend and another wonderful church friend, I ended up spending a good amount of time in quiet, praying, and listening. Now I feel absolute pity for this person. That her life is so miserable; that she is so lost… she feels this kind of behavior is okay? That is really beyond sad.

God has spoken to me in more than one way. Our sermon immediately after this was about loving others as Christ loved us. That, my friends, is a hard pill to swallow when it comes to a woman who was trying to insinuate herself into your marriage. However, I know it can be done, but not of my strength. I am not quite there yet, but I am getting there. I have prayed for God to fill me with His love and forgiveness. I can’t do it on my own, not even close.

I thank God that the Hubs is the kind of man he is; the kind of man who is faithful and true not only to me and our marriage, but to the God who created our world. I thank God that he is strong enough in faith to recognize a devil’s trap when it surfaces.

I thank God for giving me the strength to forgive and love… even someone like her.

A letter to my best friend…

Nov 13th, 2010

by Nickie.

1 comment

I really like the series posts, like the 30 Days of Truth and 30 Day Blog Journal. I’ve completed both of those and have been trying to decide on another 30 day series. This series involves writing one letter a day. I like the idea of it, but won’t be doing it in 30 days. Instead, I’ll be doing this one as one letter a week. (Or one letter as I feel like doing them, but at least one per week.) You can find out more about this series here.

So on to the first letter:

Week 1 — Your Best Friend

My love,

Are you wondering why I chose to write to you on this particular subject? I could have chosen another, I know. But the truth is, you really are my best friend. I love that we are one in life– as husband and wife– and that we are also friends. I think that is one of the reasons our relationship works so well. We talk. We communicate. Communication is so important in a marriage. And we have that.

In these 21 years I have known you, communicating has always come easy to us. I’ve never had a problem talking to you, and I think the same is true for you. I’ve always confided in you, even when it wasn’t necessarily such a good idea. (Remember back when I kept everybody’s secrets but always told my own? Well, most of my own anyway.) You have always listened. Always. Even when you didn’t want to hear what I had to say. I love that about you.

I’ve always known that I had you in my corner. You jumped to my defense so many times– even when it wasn’t necessary, or your place to. Remember the crazy stalker? I wondered then why it upset you so. Of course, I know why now. It made me feel so special when you defended me, even if it was rather immature of us to be acting in such a way.

From the moment we first met, in April of 1989– I still remember it well– we clicked. We’ve always clicked, you and me. I think everyone else saw it long before we did. I remember what my Mom said when I told her we were going out, “Your lives have always been entangled– all these years.” She was right. Our lives have been intertwined since that first day we met. I know your thoughts on this– fate, destiny, meant to be. I didn’t agree with that at first, but I do now. I see it all now… twenty-one years of memories with you in them. How many people can say that? People that haven’t spent all those years married to each other that is?

I remember when I thought our friendship would end. But there you were, on my door step the next day… asking for forgiveness, and ensuring that our friendship would remain. I didn’t see your love and loyalty then, but I do now. It has always been there whether I recognized it or not.

I am still, eight years later, in awe of how things came to be; of how things transpired between us. And I am in awe of how you love me; of how I can feel that you love me. All those years, you kept your feelings inside, as did I. All those years of friendship, and all the things that were never spoken. All those things finally came to the forefront, eight years ago, and look at us now. I loved you quietly for so long that I sometimes find it hard to believe where we are now. But it is my reality, our reality; it’s not just a dream.

You know all my secrets– all my deepest, darkest secrets. You are the only person on Earth who knows all my secrets. You know all my faults. You know my past. You know where I’ve been and where I want to go. You know my hopes and my dreams. You know my insecurities and my fears. You know me as well as I know myself. Sometimes better. I can talk to you about anything, no matter how serious or how silly, and you don’t judge me or laugh at me. That is what a true best friend does. And the times when I just want to be silent… you understand that. We communicate even in the silence.

You are my best friend, my lover, my husband, my right arm. You are my other half. I know I’ve said in the past that a man can’t and doesn’t complete a woman; that one person can not complete another. I came to that conclusion after having gone through one not seeing ‘me’ and trying to force me into being someone I wasn’t. In that sense, one can’t be complete by another. But you have never tried to make me anything more than I am. You have never tried to change me. You have always seen me, just as I am. You have completed me. When we married, we truly became one. I never knew that was possible until you.

My love for you goes beyond the superficial… it is bone deep, buried within the depths of my soul, and etched into the core of my being. I love you to infinity… my best friend, my husband.

Forever yours,
Nickie

~~~~~
Photo credit: graur razvan. Click on the photo to view the photographer’s portfolio. Downloaded from Free Digital Photos. This photo is free for use with photographer credit.

From this time a year ago…

Nov 9th, 2010

by Nickie.

Comments are off for this post

Last year, in October, we moved to our current location. During the move, naturally, I was without internet. (As things unfolded in the weeks to come, I ended up without internet for nine months.) During this time, I still blogged. I typed them up and saved them on my computer. As of yesterday, all those blogs have been sitting on my computer unpublished…. three months worth of posts.

With yesterday being the first anniversary of hubby’s heart attack and hospital stay, I decided to go back and read those posts. It was really shocking, to say the least, to see just where my head was through all of that. Raw emotions, worry, fear… all in black and white.

I’ve decided to share those blogs because, well, that was my intention when I wrote them. It may be a year later, but those were my words; and they really show how far I have come– how far we have come– since then. (Nothing has been edited in these posts.)

~~~~~

Originally written November 8, 2009

Our world has turned upside down and inside out. Hubs wasn’t feeling good last night. We moved a bit more stuff, had a nice night and decided to watch tv in bed and relax. He stared having pain in his arms. He said he’d had the same pain on Thursday and figured he’d probably strained some muscles moving the furniture. It sounded reasonable to me. But it was still worrying me because the pain was in both arms. In the same exact place in both arms. What are the odds of straining the exact same muscles in both arms?

This morning we got up and had breakfast and started getting ready to go get the kids, and a little more stuff from the house. It started off good but before mid morning he was hurting again. In the same place. Both arms. I suggested he lie down and let me go get the kids and the stuff from the house, but he said lying down wouldn’t help. So we left. On the way it started hurting worse. A lot worse.

He thought his blood pressure medicine was causing it. He started a new med a couple weeks ago, and thought this might be a side effect. I tried to get him to describe the pain to me but he said there wasn’t any way to describe it. It was hurting him pretty bad. Bad enough that he reclined the seat, put his feet up on the dash and drew his knees up. I asked him if it was in his chest and he said no, just his arms. I even asked him all the questions ‘they’ say are indicators of a heart attack. Everything was “No.” Except when I suggested that maybe we should go to the ER. He agreed. And when he did, I knew it was bad. This is a man who doesn’t do doctors. He just doesn’t go unless something is wrong.

So, we went to the ER. They did a million tests, put him on oxygen, hooked him to a heart monitor, etc. Believe it or not, we weren’t there for long before finding out what was going on. Only about 45 minutes or so. HE HAD A HEART ATTACK. He was having a heart attack. This FLOORED us both.
He is only 39 years old. He’s healthy, other than hypertension. Or so we thought. They air lifted him to the medical center that’s about 50 miles north of where we were. At first, the doc said he’d go by ambulance, but then a few minutes later, he came back and said he’d need to be air lifted. He needed to get there NOW.

They took him to the critical care unit, and since he stabilized on the helicopter, they’re not going to do the heart cath until tomorrow morning. I can only see him for 30 minutes every four hours. EVERY FOUR HOURS! What if… what if. What if we hadn’t gone to the ER. He’d have died. Right in front of me. What if they have to do surgery. He could die anyway. I’m going insane. I can’t even think straight. I can’t hold his hand. I can’t kiss him. I can’t even sit in the same room with him. The last visit is at 9 pm. Then nothing until the morning. I won’t know anything until the morning.

The nurse has my cell # and said she’d call if anything changed, anything at all. But I’m supposed to be there. I’m supposed to do something, I don’t know what. I can’t just do nothing. I can’t just sit here and wait. Wait to see what’s next. What’s going to happen. I CAN’T DO THIS.

He told me to go home tonight. Not to stay there in the waiting room. He wanted me to go home. And leave him there.

So now I’m home. Alone. In this quiet place. This place we just moved into. A place that doesn’t have years of memories yet. What if I lose him? I can’t lose him. I can’t live without him.

Originally written November 9, 2009

I got to the hospital early, before 5:30 am. The first visit was at 6 and it seemed like the clock was moving so slow. But I finally got to see him. He was all smiles. They let me stay in there until time for him to go for the heart cath. That was at about 7. The doc called the waiting room desk to talk to me, told me everything was going good, the cath was done, it showed a pretty significant blockage that can be opened with a stent, no open heart surgery, and he’d call me as soon as it was done.

So then I waited… and waited… and waited…

Finally the doctor called. It was done. There were two blockages, one critical blockage in the Right Coronary Artery that was responsible for the heart attack and another in the Circumflex. He had to put two stents for each blockage. But hubs was doing great and I’d be able to see him as soon as he was out of recovery.

I finally got to see him and he did look good. He was a nice shade of pink. I didn’t realize just how pale he’d been before. He said he felt good, just a little sore, but good. The doc said if he kept doing this good he’d probably be moved to a private room later in the evening. THANK GOD PRAYERS ARE ANSWERED! I know we’re not over this hurdle yet, but we’ve just sprinted closer to the finish line.

~~~~~

I’ll share more later…

Three hundred sixty-five days…

Nov 8th, 2010

by Nickie.

4 comments

Funny how a year can go by so fast. 365 days come and gone. Twelve months gone by in the blink of an eye.

Funny how life can change, literally, in the blink of an eye.

One year ago today, my life changed forever. One year ago today, I sat on this very couch in this very room, in the dark, alone, and wondered was this what my life was going to become? Dark and lonely nights of sleeping on the couch, alone. Bitter silence when the house isn’t full of the commotion of lively children. I twirled the rings on my left hand third finger with my thumb. I ran my right index finger across the tops of them, feeling the change from prong to stone. I thought about when, where, and how they were both given to me– out of love.

I looked around the room, at all my surroundings. Pictures. Furniture. Little things, here and there that mark someone’s existence. Memories of a special day, a special hour, a special moment. Memories of a life together; seven years of ups and downs, tragedies and triumphs, laughter and tears. Would this be all I had left?

One year ago today, I lay my head down on a soft pillow, curled my body on a soft couch, in the wee hours of the morning, stifling my fear, wiping my tears as the lonely silence surrounded me– while my husband lay in a hospital bed, in intensive care, after having a heart attack at the age of thirty-nine. One year ago today…

It never truly hit me that I could lose him, after all, we were still young. But the long drive home that night; walking into that empty, cold house alone; sitting in the silent darkness, and wondering what would happen next awoke the realization that we are not promised tomorrow. And there could easily have been no tomorrow for the man to whom I had devoted my heart and my life. The man I promised to love and to cherish until death do us part. The man I loved with all of my heart and mind and body.

I watched as my hands trembled uncontrollably. The fear of losing the one I loved was very real, and it had taken over. As I closed my eyes, I saw the day he proposed; on bended knee, his hands shaking every bit as much as mine were at that very moment. I saw the hope in his eyes, and I saw the love he felt overflowing with each breath.

My heart broke as the thought of never seeing those eyes again sank deep within my soul. “I can’t live without him,” I said to God. “I’m not strong enough to make it through this life without him.” I prayed, asking God, no begging God, to fix him; to heal him; to let him come home to me. I pleaded, bargained, made promises… all out of fear of losing the one person who held my heart in his hands.

My life changed in so many ways that day. The possibility of losing the man I loved and planned to grow old with showed me that my love for him was even deeper than I had ever realized. My entire life was wrapped around his. My future hinged on him. If I lost him, what then? How would I survive? How would I go on? The thought of it was too painful, too heart-wrenching. I couldn’t allow myself to think it any longer.

I slept restlessly for a couple hours; waking and checking the clock, careful not to sleep too long and too late. At just before four in the morning, I woke, quickly showered, dressed, and made the hour drive back to the hospital. When I arrived, I slipped in and not so patiently waited for visiting hours to officially start for the day. The night before, I had been allowed to stay longer than the allowed visit length. For that I was grateful. Official visiting hours for the CCU (Critical Care Unit) stopped at 10 pm. The decision to go home for the night was a hard one, but a necessary one.

The night was hard– the waiting, the wondering, the fear of not knowing what was next. The day was getting harder. Surgery was scheduled. Routine. They do this all the time. I told myself these things over and over, but I still waited with unsteady breath. They allowed me to stay with him until it was time. It wasn’t long enough. I didn’t want to leave the room. I didn’t want to walk back into that waiting room, with all those people, and the buzz of conversation tickling my ears. I wanted to sit in a corner and hide until everything was okay again.

Time. It can go fast, or it can go slow. Five minutes went fast. But an hour went slowly. So very slowly. My hands shook; my heart feared; my mind wondered. I sat alone, jumping at every little sound. And I forgot to pray. Of all things, I forgot to pray. I waited. And waited. And finally, the first call. Words came through the line and settled in my mind. Blockage. Two. Not good. More surgery. Now.

And again, I waited. Even longer this time. Any sense of rational thinking had long sense left. And still, I forgot to pray. Why would I forget to pray? At such a time as this, when prayer was so needed? For him, and for me.

Finally, a second call, after what felt like hours. Everything is okay. Four stents. He is doing good.

When I finally walked into that room again, it was as if all the breath I didn’t know I was holding let out at once. I had heard the words the doctor spoke to me though the phone line, but none of it mattered; none of what he said would sink into my soul until I saw my love for myself. And when I did, I couldn’t stop touching him. It was as if I was trying to make sure he was really there and I wasn’t stuck in a dream. I wanted and needed to be close to him, to feel warmth in his skin, and to know that he really was okay.

I hadn’t allowed myself to cry in front of him. I hadn’t allowed him to see how torn into pieces I really was. I held it in until it finally overwhelmed my senses; until I could no longer control it. And I fell apart silently, behind the closed door of a hospital room.

~~~~~

God carried me through each day I worried and feared for the future. He knocked on the door of my heart, and kept knocking until I finally opened it wide enough to let Him fully in. I can’t say that I am thankful for the change in our lives that means medications and ‘heart disease’ and all that goes along with it; but I can say I am thankful that we have a loving Father who carries us through each and every moment of our lives, even when we’re not asking Him to. I thank Him everyday for all that He has given me. And I thank Him for the husband that I love so much.

~~~~~

The pictures I’ve included were taken with a cell phone, sorry for the lack of quality. I had one of the two of us together, taken by a paramedic just before they airlifted him (by helicopter) to the medical center that housed the cardiac unit. That photo, sadly, is forever lost to that cell phone. These photos were taken after his surgery, and while he was still a little ‘loopy’ and cracking jokes. (He cracked jokes the whole time though, even while still in the emergency room. He was ‘loopy’ from all the meds they had him on. Plus he was nervous and scared;. The combination of drugs and nerves made for some rather cheesy jokes that I couldn’t help but laugh at.)