Life inevitably changes when one divorces a spouse. At the very least, you must become accustomed to spending time alone with yourself...in the lonely silences. If you are fortunate enough to have children to accompany you on the journey, you have the joy of humor and conversation with other humans. You also have love and affection still present in your home.
Daily existence as a single working mother is hectic. The chaos of our days includes school, practices, play dates, daycare, dinners hastily thrown together, and sweet bedtime stories. Without the smiles, the hugs, and the words of kindness, these days would be unbearable. These kids simply make life still worth living.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Brain Floss
Admittedly, I have struggled to come up with material worthy of sharing with those close to me. At times, I found my life simply too depressing, and less than enjoyable to write about. More recently, though, I am finding that I am beginning to see the light at the end of the proverbial tunnel.
Some events, stories, and songs jog the memory and pull forth memories long since buried. My children have lately grown significantly more interested in my life and often ask me to tell them stories about myself, my childhood, my relatives, and their father. There have been times that the stories are too painful to continue, times when a song played on the radio too poignant to maintain my composure, moments when I cannot stand to look backwards.
Despite this pain, I find that conjuring the memory is actually therapeutic. Tears are cleansing and talking is convalescent, As usual, I hope to write more in my journey to self-improvement and self-realization. As with everything I am doing to rejuvenate myself, this "brain flossing" will likely recover the spirit I once possessed.
Some events, stories, and songs jog the memory and pull forth memories long since buried. My children have lately grown significantly more interested in my life and often ask me to tell them stories about myself, my childhood, my relatives, and their father. There have been times that the stories are too painful to continue, times when a song played on the radio too poignant to maintain my composure, moments when I cannot stand to look backwards.
Despite this pain, I find that conjuring the memory is actually therapeutic. Tears are cleansing and talking is convalescent, As usual, I hope to write more in my journey to self-improvement and self-realization. As with everything I am doing to rejuvenate myself, this "brain flossing" will likely recover the spirit I once possessed.
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