Lupus and Dating / by Sammye Kaye

It is safe to say that any man interested in dating me would have to be a very special man.
In less than a week, I will be 62 years old, I am a plus size woman, I have lovely, tiny locs that fall gently past my waist. I am an intelligent, beautiful and compassionate woman. I have recently discovered that I have a somewhat quirky sense of humor that a surprising number of people appreciate. Who knew??
I am an excellent cook, who also has excellent taste. I love decorating my personal space with items that touch my spirit. I have my own style that fits me perfectly, and I wear my clothes very well:,for me..
 I am a Master Storyteller, in any genre. I am also a great actress ( my work), and group facilitator.
I accept people for who and what they are.
 I have no interest in attempting to change a person into who I would like them to be. Nor, will I be a 'potential' project for anyone.
I trust my moral compass and my instinct.

And...

I have Lupus...

Now, I will break this down into 'real speak'.
I am an ''elderly' woman, who is overweight, has 'dreadlocks', tends to be dramatic, and does not believe in casual sex.

And...

I have a medical condition that sounds yucky and has to be carefully explained.
Over and over...and over..

If that sounds sad and pitiful, please believe that is not the case.
It just happens to be my reality that I have chosen to accept with a positive attitude, and a smile.
Life is too precious and short to do otherwise.

So, how does this fit in the world of dating??

You just might be surprised.
My age has never been a factor except for men in my age group.
Since I entered the dating scene, younger men have always actively pursued me. In the beginning, I thought they were playing a jaded 'game' with this still somewhat naïve albeit mature lady.
However, the best dating experience I have ever had was with a man that was almost 14 years younger than me. He was quite comfortable with a deeper relationship, but I knew that I would never be able to handle the inevitable insecurities I would have. He is a very dear friend.
I later met another younger man who touched my heart. He introduced me to poetry on a completely different level. I had to keep our friendship in the category of friendship. He is also a dear friend.
Both of these men have gone on with their lives and loves; with my genuine blessings. They deserve the very best that life has to offer. They helped me learn the importance of accepting myself.

Okay, I was quite surprised by the number of men who really are attracted to plus size women. Some would rather stay hidden from society, but they are by far the minority. They stroll dating websites and hope they meet a woman willing to be a passing 'fancy' for their fantasy. They would probably be surprised to know that many women are just as adept at playing that mind game as they are.

I have always believed that there is beauty in everyone. Oddly, I could never see that beauty in myself. I have crossed paths with enough intelligent and genuinely nice men to finally appreciate my own beauty. This is something I pray for all women to experience. The act of falling in love with myself was a gift from God.

I have an active creative spirit. I love this simple fact about myself.  I have been blessed to have interaction with men who share this gift and sincerely appreciate mine. It warms my spirit and heart to share dialogue with someone who 'gets me'. To have a man be patient enough to answer my often endless questions and listen to my story ideas is priceless.
They have been few and far between, but it is nice to know that they do exist.

I am not my hair, but my hair is certainly a part of who I am. Period. Some like it, some seem confused. Older men seem offended. I really don't care, so I can smile and move on..

To tell or not to tell??
Initially, I felt the need to immediately tell anyone I was dating about the lupus. I was fully aware that this was my way of dealing with his possible rejection. Get it over with before my feelings became an issue.
My second best dating experience was with the only man I have ever dated that was older than I was. He was the first man I had ever known who could make me laugh out loud. When I told him about the lupus, he looked at me with a straight face and asked " Can I catch it?" I was little taken aback, until I looked deeper into his eyes and saw the smile. When I answered 'no', he said  "Well, okay then. Now, tell me how you are!!".  I could have easily fallen in love with him, but that was not to be.
He can still make me laugh.

Honestly, the facts are clear. I happen to come with a lot of baggage.
Men are only interested in their own baggage.
Am I worth the effort it would take to get to know me? 
Without a doubt.

 But...

Most men are not interested in becoming involved with a woman who has a medical condition that is not going away.  I rarely even make a very short list of possible options.
This, combined with my other uh, examples of uniqueness, (smiling) does not help my dating issues, but I can understand why they feel the way they do.
Seriously, I really do understand.
I cannot relate to those feelings because being a woman, I would not automatically dismiss a man because of a medical condition. If we had the opportunity to fall in love, I would just simply love him.
Men are not willing to take that chance, or make that opportunity.
 It is their choice
It is also often their great loss.
There are also men who feel that any woman who has as much baggage as I have, should be blindly grateful that they even want to spend time with me. I mean after all,," My health will be gone in ten years, and do I want to stay with my daughter forever!"
Yes, someone did say those words to me, and yes, there are many asses in this world.
Lesson learned.

So, have I given up on my true love finding me??

Actually, no, I have not.
Why?? 
My Faith. Plain and not at all simple.
My heart yearns for romantic love; but it no longer aches.
My spirit would love to soar with someone who has that special connection that would touch my very soul; but I have learned that the flight can be just as awesome flying alone.
I don't miss what I never had; but I have the amazing ability to dream.
I am surrounded by unconditional love everyday of my life.
 Priceless..

God is Love; He lives in me.
Where there is Love, there will always be Hope.






.

'Birthday Thanks For My Daughter',,,By Sammye Kaye

 In less than an hour, it will be 38 years since I experienced the greatest surprise of my life.
Without the benefit of ultra sounds, every birth was a surprise. I always felt that my first born would be a son, so I was almost prepared for his birth.

But honestly, I wanted you to be a girl so much, I spent the entire pregnancy refusing to get my hopes up. I simply chose not to think beyond praying for a healthy baby.

When the doctor told me I had a daughter, I was speechless.
You were beautiful, long, and completely 'filled out'. You had a serious, no nonsense look on your face, very light gray eyes, and a surprising amount of black hair, that disappeared within weeks, and came back golden blond.

Much to my delight, you were born with a strong personality. I knew that I would do whatever was needed to make sure that you would become a strong, confident woman.

You are that woman, and so much more...

Thank you for believing in yourself enough to embrace who you are.

Thank you for believing in me enough to accept me for who I am.

Thank you for trusting yourself enough to be loyal to the ones you love. Many times, your loyalty to your family and friends has left me speechless.

Thank you for not being afraid to live your dream of providing your students with a desire to learn. You take the time to find the keys that will open their minds to accept the knowledge that you make available.

Thank you for loving your work and your students.

Thank you for touching their hearts as well as their minds.

Thank you being a mother who stops whatever she is doing, to listen to her children.
You have chosen your priorities, and you stay true to your values.
They will never question where they 'fit' into your life; they already know.

Thank you for being comfortable in your chosen role as a loving and caring wife.
You understand that the thoughtful deeds you do for your husband does not diminish your strength as woman. You understand that it is often the seemingly 'small' acts of love that are more meaningful.
Thank you for marrying a man who can laugh with you, as you both teach your children exactly what genuine love and respect between a man and a woman looks like.

Thank you for loving your big brother more than he will probably ever understand.

Thank you for being confident and respectful enough to say what you need to say; when you need to say it.

Thank you for understanding the need for growth as your journey continues. You know the importance of seeking God's guidance in your everyday life.

Thank you for your sense of humor.
Your laughter can brighten an entire room.
Your smile generates a sunshine-like warmth that can often be contagious.
Your ability to laugh at yourself, teaches others how to laugh at themselves.

Thank you for loving who you are as a woman and a child of God.
Thank you for being and remaining a humble person..

Thank you for loving me enough to convince me that opening up your home to me, was an easy, and natural decision for you and your family to make.

Thank you for constantly surprising me by how well you know me. I don't have to explain my feelings to you; you just seem to understand.
Thank you being an amazing woman..

Thank you being my beautiful daughter.
My Ladybug..
My Baby...
Happy Birthday!

I love you.

'The Wolf and The Butterfly',,,,, My Life With Lupus/ By Sammye Kaye

Did you know that the Lupus Foundation supports a wolf sanctuary? I was actually going back to refresh my knowledge regarding the behavior of wolves, when I was pleasantly surprised by the discovery.

When I was diagnosed with Systemic Lupus over fifteen years ago, I learned that the word 'Lupus' was the name of the doctor who isolated the condition, and I was a little surprised and offended that the word actually means 'wolf'.
Since that time, I have made my peace with the characteristics of the elusive wolf.
The wolf is loyal for life, and their means of communication are uniquely their own. I can relate to the similarities of my condition.

My wolf is only trying to protect my body from potential harm. My wolf communicates with my body in several different ways. All of which range from uncomfortable to extremely painful.
The butterfly is the symbol for The Lupus Foundation.
 I have a butterfly tattoo that reminds me of my new beginning as well as my survival..

When I was initially diagnosed, I took my time embracing all of the feelings that are present when you realize that you have a medical condition that has no cure, and will forever be a part of your life. I was not afraid, but I was sad. I knew enough about the condition to know that my lupus was considered 'moderate' by normal standards.
My actual diagnosis was almost by accident. I was 47 years old, and any symptoms I had were attributed to my aging process. I was blessed to have a watchful doctor who seemed determined to find out why my ANA readings were off the charts. It was later that I felt relief in finding out the real cause of my fatigue. The achiness of my joints was something I had chosen to ignore.
He informed me that I probably had the condition for several years before the diagnosis.

During the first few years, changes in my life resulted in extreme levels of stress. Since I happen to have a peaceful and laid back personality, I shudder to think how difficult it would have been for a hyper personality.

I woke up every morning exhausted.
 I felt as if I had been running a 15 minute mile over and over again.
The stiffness in my body was actually painful.

The screaming of my joints moves from one spot to another.
The achiness never goes away.
I have not slept eight hours in 20 years. I am supposed to sleep nine hours.
I actually wake up every two hours; every night.

As bad as my pain often becomes, I fully understand how blessed I am. My vital organs, such as my kidneys seemed to be spared the 'protection' of my self- appointed ' protector'.

Even before I shared my condition with my family, I became active in the Lupus Foundation.
I trained to become a facilitator for a support group, but after making the four hour one-way drive alone, on my return the following day, I ended up in ICU. Driving has never been an issue for me, but the life changing events in my life at the time, only added to the stress. I drove myself to the emergency room. Both of my doctors wanted me to quit my job, but I could not do that. I had to be able to take care of myself. I quite simply had no choice
I had to stay off work for six months, but thank God, I was finally able to go back to work.
My 35 year marriage was over and my life had completely changed forever.

I learned to love myself, I tapped into who I am, and my body quieted down enough for me to breath again.
The howl of my wolf was not silent, but much like a deep, attentive whisper.
I could finally hear my voice..

During that time, October was Lupus Awareness Month. I decided against starting a support group, but I did participate in the Lupus Walks. It was nice to be around people who could understand this journey. Honestly, not many people do understand; not even family.

Up until a few months ago, I seldom read blogs focusing on Lupus. I realize that even when I write a piece about illness, I focus on the generalities of chronic illness.
I am forced to admit that I still had lingering feelings left over from years of programming. I have put together several forums addressing the genuine, often gut wrenching feelings, of a person who has a serious medical condition.

Shame and Guilt

For me, the shame and guilt seem to go hand in hand.
I have always been active. I was not interested in running marathons or competition weight training. However, I have always preferred running over walking because you could quickly get the experience over with. The problem arose when my spouse told me that running a 15 minute mile was not good enough; I needed to strive for a 5 mile run. A serious head game, that had a few lasting effects..
I was toned and my weight was perfect, but I simply did not understand the truth.
I take full responsibility for not being connected to myself.
Since society has given people the right to make rude comments about another person's weight, it is often pointed out to me that my lupus would probably improve if I exercised more.
I no longer explain that each person's experience is uniquely their own.
When I went to the gym 3-4 days a week and walked 3 days, my pain and fatigue remained the same. Only the stiffness did seem to lessen.

Therein lies the guilt.
For the last couple of years, my fatigue and level of pain has become more pronounced.
This is to date, my longest flare. I have declined the use of steroids to control the pain.
 I can function well, but the tiredness can be very emotionally frustrating. I learned how to pace myself years ago, so my life is a blessing. Challenging, but no less a blessing.
There are still many days when I am so very tired of being tired. There are just as many days when I wish I had a switch to turn off the pain.
Overall, you quickly learn to fully appreciate the 'good' days.
I would love to be able to once again walk every day...
Hopefully, one day soon.

Last week, I read a blog post written by a Lupus patient that struck a chord. She was married to someone who was not willing to pay for a drug that could ease her pain. She has insurance, and would be provided with a reduced rate because she had participated in a trial. He said no.
I admire her because she did not sugarcoat her feelings.
She was not having a pity party, she was stating her facts. There is a distinct difference.
I have met few people who use their illness as a weapon or a means for attention.

Yes, I am blessed.
I have children, grandchildren, family, and friends who love and support me.
Many, many people have to face this journey alone.

I have a very special gift.
 I spend my days with my 2 yr.old granddaughter.
She is the youngest of my four amazing babies.
She is intelligent, beautiful, feisty, and gentle and loving to her Nana.
I am her Nana; she is my Twinkle.
I love children and they seem to love me. But...
This baby seems to be instinctively tuned in to how I am feeling.
She picks the days for us to dance, sing or play ball. Or, the days when I simply need her to snuggle in my lap as I read her a story, or she watches her favorite television show
On the days when I suppose I am moving slowly, she paces her steps as we descend the stairs.
She tells me she loves me several times a day.
When she is close enough, she will sometimes lean over and gently kiss my cheek; without saying a word.
She makes my heart smile.

I have shared these types of inner feelings with very few people.
I always seek and embrace the positives of life.
However...
There is no weakness or negativity in being ill; there is always strength, whether it is visible to others or not.

So, my life will go on.
My faith, and God's grace and mercy, keep my hopes and dreams alive.
I am finishing up a play that I plan on presenting in the fall.
I love and enjoy this life that God has blessed me with.
I can smile, laugh, and be thankful.
I can also accept the fact that sometimes, tears are both cleansing and comforting.
I accept my feelings, whatever they happen to be.
My wolf and my butterfly have made peace with each other.
They are both are part of me..

Thankfully, God has always been, and will always be..in control.

"What Mother's Day Means To Me"/ by ~Sammye Kaye~~

I have always been fascinated by clouds, angels and my vision of heaven.
As a little girl, I decided that all babies were patiently waiting with the angels in heaven to choose their parents. I also decided that since I wanted a large family, there had to be at least five or six babies waiting for me to become their mother.

By the time I reached puberty, I figured four children was much more reasonable. I will gladly admit that by the time my son was a year old, the number had dropped to two. Not because he was a difficult child; he was not. He was happy, and had a great personality. The truth is, I realized just how much time and total dedication it would take to be the type of mother I was determined to be.

My son was five years old when my daughter was born. Perfect timing. My son had time to grow into his own person; enjoying the perks of being the first born child, and my daughter would have the opportunity to enjoy the perks of being the baby.

Being a mother to my children is a joy. Even when I want to pinch them, I have the ability to always see their inner child.
 I can read them..
They both have easy smiles, and their laughter can be contagious.
They are both warm, compassionate and positive in their view of life.

I will always be compelled to try and make their lives easier, and void of pain, sadness and disappointment. That is of course out of my realm of control, but thankfully, I can always pray for their health, contentment and priceless peace of mind.

My children's love and respect for me makes everyday feel like 'Mother's Day'.

I can still visualize my children in baby heaven, sitting in the soft fluffy clouds looking down at the people below:

Son: " Look at her. She seems to be very nice, but quiet and a little shy."

Daughter: " I've been watching her. She spends a lot of time by herself reading and writing, or just sitting, with a faraway look in her eyes."

Son: " Well, her house is quite boring. I don't blame her for reading. You do know that she wants lots of children, so perhaps she is thinking of us."

Daughter: "We already know that we are going to the same parents, and I, for one, am not interested in having a lot of siblings. So, you need to convince her that two babies will be quite enough, thank you!"

Son: "  I agree."    " Okay, so have we made our choice?"

Daughter: "Yes. Now don't forget that I am going to be up here waiting. Don't get too comfortable being the only child, and please don't be obnoxious, even at the age of three. I have heard from the other babies, that being three years old can be lots of fun; for the babies. Not so much for the parents!"

Son: " You know what, she almost looks sad doesn't she?"

Daughter: " Yes. I think she really needs us. And look, she already loves us. All that love she has for six kids, she can just give all of it to us. That means you will have to quickly show her how much you love her."

Son: "That will be easy. I want to see her smile. She will need to understand that I accept her, just as she is.  I will take care of her my way; the love of a son."

Daughter: " When I am born, I will take care of her with the love of a daughter."

Daughter: " Do you think there is a real difference?"

Son: " Of course there is a difference, because we are different. Genuine love is genuine love, so she will appreciate our love, because it will always come from our heart."

Daughter: " I think you will be a good big brother."

Son: " And you little one, will be my very special baby sister, however...do you think you will always talk as much as you do now?"

Daughter: " Oh yes!"  And, I will have an extensive vocabulary by the age of two!"
" I might get a little bossy sometimes, but remember that I will always love you, just the way you are." 
Son: "   Oh.... Well, I will have five years of quiet time to prepare for your arrival."

They laugh together.

How blessed I am..

The Fragments of Love.....Epilogue....~ 'When Seasons Change' ~ / A Story by Sammye Kaye.

MARCUS CALUMET
~~the husband~~

November 20

Roughly six weeks have passed since I returned from New York. Without a doubt, the longest six weeks of my life.
When Vanessa was pregnant with our first child, I was filled with an equal amount of excitement and almost debilitating fear. I thought that period of helplessness had to be one of the most challenging times any responsible man could possibly have. Watching my wife's tiny body stretch and change to accommodate our child was both fascinating and frustrating. My job was to protect her from pain and harm. I could not take on the pain of bringing our child into the world, and I felt as if I had failed her.

Now,once again, I could not protect her from pain and harm.
Yes, she has to own the choices that she made. Her choices resulted in serious, life changing consequences.

However, from the moment she mentioned the 'branding' of her body, my professional instinct kicked in. I had to put those feelings on hold; for now.
 I will find out everything there is to know about the person who left his signature on the body of my wife.

The night that I left the house, my head was filled with confusion. I thought about getting drunk, but I knew it would be impossible to get drunk enough to take away the pain.
I sat on the wide steps leading up to the big wrap around porch and, I cried.
I have no idea how long I stayed in one position. Time was of no importance...
Finally, I was able to focus on the beautiful moonlit night that surrounded me. I could even see a few fireflies circling the steps.
I took a long, deep breath. Only then did I realize that this was the first genuinely 'free' breath I had taken in over a month. My chest had almost been constricted the entire time.
I got up and slowly moved to the porch. I removed the heavy cover from one of the over sized loungers, remembered to shake it, and sat down.

I entered into a deep 'conversation' with God that lasted until I could see the rising sun.

I went into the house, took another shower, and fell into the bed. I slept until 6 p.m. that evening. I woke up starving. I prepared a nice dinner, cleaned the kitchen, and called my wife to tell her I would be home the following day.

When I returned home the next morning, we talked until early evening. Loud noises from both of our stomachs forced us to finally stop long enough to eat a decent meal.

We slept in our bed together, but I could not bring myself to touch her. I did not intend to cause her any more pain, but my pain was still very raw. I had to actively ask God to help me heal enough to hold my wife. I understood how much I needed to feel the beat of her heart against my chest.

We have always been able to communicate well, but we agreed that counseling did add another dimension to our dialogue.
Even our prayer time together became more meaningful and important to each of us. I had forgiven my wife before I left New York; even before I knew what had happened.
When love is deep enough, there are some things that touch your core
.
After three weeks, we were able to come together as one.
We reached for each other; we were home.
The experience was beyond make-up sex, or mere lovemaking.
The merging of our bodies seemed to heal the wounds of our spirits.
The small scars on her body were still visible, but God took away the full impact of their presence.
For that alone, I would be eternally thankful.
But, He blessed us far beyond our prayers
Our marriage was indeed fragmented; but repairing those jagged edges, only made our love stronger.

VANESSA CALUMET
~~the wife~~

My husband forgave me.

I would like to think that I could have forgiven him for the same mistakes. I have learned many truths about myself.
One day soon, perhaps I will be able to completely forgive myself.
We did not share these events with our family or friends. They know something happened, but they love and respect us enough not to ask any invasive questions.
That basically means that I am going straight to God for that special guidance that only He can provide.

We begin this new season with an even deeper understanding of who we are as individuals, and who we are to each other.
We will embrace the fact that being our best for God, will guarantee we will always be best for each other.

The Fragments of Love.....Chapter 10 ~~'The Pain of Confession'~~/ A Story by Sammye Kaye

VANESSA CALUMET
~~the wife~~

9:30 p.m.

The evening has been surreal. From the moment Marcus walked through the door, I have felt as if I am in the midst of an out of body experience. He looked painfully handsome, and I just wanted to run to him and feel his arms pull me close. I was instantly reminded how safe and secure I have always felt while in his arms.
As I looked into his eyes, I can also see the presence of sadness. This stark reality takes my breath away.

All three of the' little' babies ran to meet their Pop-Pop. The grown-up babies are close behind their children. Mama Tia and I waited until the noise level slightly return to normal.
Marcus walked over to his mother and hugged her before he reached for me
.
God, his arms felt so good!

As his arms tightened, so did my heart. I had to pull away, before I fell apart; literally.
In my heart, I knew that I might never feel his arms around me in quite the same way.

MARCUS CALUMET
~~the husband~~

9:30 p.m.

Dakota and the twins drove my mother home. By the time they returned, Kelly, Bethanny, and Gia were ready to leave. I walked outside and watched my children drive away.

I take a deep breath before I go back inside to face the huge elephant that has been patiently waiting in the middle of the room.

I stand in the doorway of the kitchen and watch my wife wipe a counter that is already clean..

Marcus: " Need any help?"

Vanessa: ( slightly startled, and without turning around) " No! No, thank you. I'm almost done."

Marcus: ( silently watches as her body visibly tightens with tension) "Okay. I'm going to take my shower."

Vanessa: "Okay, I'll be up soon."

I turn and slowly walk up the stairs.
When I enter our suite, I am surprised that it doesn't feel, somehow different. It should feel different because nothing is the same.
Nothing.
My wife is unable to look into my eyes. She is nervous; almost afraid. And yes, her entire body seems to be filled with deep sadness. Very much, I would say, like my own.
 I take a long, hot soothing shower. I am drying off when I notice the prescription pill bottle sitting on the counter.
I pick up the almost empty bottle and note the date. The type of medication does not ring a bell, but an unexpected cold chill runs up and down my back.

I asked God to please help me to handle both myself and this situation according to His will.
Please Lord..

I put on the robe that is rarely used, but is always hanging behind the door and walked over to the desk in the sitting area.
My mind went into protect mode after the words 'most commonly used for the treatment of chlamydia' leaped into my vision.
Oh, I finished reading most of the information.
I even forced myself to look at the disturbing pictures.
I was now,,, numb.

I don't remember shutting down the computer, or getting dressed. But, that is exactly what I did.
The suite is large enough to have a tiny kitchenette as well as a comfortable sitting area equipped with a large television and sound system.
I made a cup of instant coffee, sat at the small table and waited for my wife to come upstairs.
I looked at the bedside clock and realized almost 90 minutes had passed.
Seemed more like a lifetime..

VANESSA CALUMET
~~the wife~~

11:30 p.m.

I had made myself a cup of strong black coffee. I sat down and tried to calm my nerves. I have no choice bet to tell Marcus tonight.
He will expect to make love, and that is simply not possible.
I would rather die than expose him to this, this disease.
I can feel the tears start to fall when something stops them.
For the first time, I feel the compelling need to pray. I put the coffee on the kitchen table and get down on my knees right there on the cold kitchen floor.

When I finally pulled myself up from the floor and looked at the clock, it was 11:30.
I rinsed out my cup, turned out the lights, checked the alarm and headed for the stairs.

When I entered the room, I was surprised not to see Marcus already in bed. When I walked into the kitchen area and saw him sitting at the table, fully dressed and holding the pill bottle, I took a deep breath and slowly sat down in the other chair.

When Marcus is angry, he has the ability to put up a visible hood, or barrier over his eyes. In all of our years together, I have only seen this happen twice, and neither were connected to me; until now. He shut me out, so I could not see his pain, but when love is deep enough, you can feel the pain of the person you love.
His pain surrounded him like a shroud.

As hard as it was, I force myself to look into his eyes. He deserves nothing less.

Marcus: " Apparently, we need to talk."

Vanessa:  (sighing deeply) " I need to talk. You haven't done anything wrong. Marcus, you are the best husband that,,

Marcus: (holding up one hand) "Vanessa! Stop! Obviously, this conversation is going to be difficult for both of us. There will be cause and time for a wide range of gut wrenching emotions.
 But, please, spare me the bullshit!"

Vanessa: "I contracted chlamydia on the cruise."

For Marcus, actually hearing her say the words, cut deep into the core of his heart.
Marcus: " I have one question before you go any further. Did you take this person with you on your cruise?"

Vanessa: (surprised) " No! Why on earth would you ever think that?"

Marcus:( quietly) "Why would I not? You plan a cruise that you purposely did not tell me about. A cruise that you knew I would not want to go on, even if my work schedule permitted. You did not want me to accompany you on your cruise. Please do not add more insult to the situation by denying the basic facts."

Vanessa: "Marcus, I did not plan to lie. Now, I have to admit to myself that I did want to go alone. I did not go on the cruise expecting to do anything except spend some time by myself. I don't know why Marcus! (tears are streaming down her face)  The last year has been hell for me. Not because of anything you have done. I have felt as if I have been watching my life from a distance. I have felt completely disconnected from myself and everyone else.!"

He silently watches as her body trembles from her crying.

Vanessa: sighing) " I spent the entire first week of the cruise sleeping. I didn't even dress for dinner. I had convinced myself that you had abandoned me and,,,

Marcus: "Abandoned!? I was alone in a tiny motel room, eating take-out, sleeping less than six hours at night. My days were spent dealing with death and fear!"  "How in,,

Vanessa: " My rational mind understands that Marcus! I was delusional, okay? I know now that I was being crazy! Marcus, you know I have always supported you in your work! I don't know what was wrong with me! "I'm sorry, but I just don't know!"

Again, he silently waits while she calms down.

Vanessa:" By the second week, I was rested enough to leave the cabin. I had missed most of the shore time, but I didn't really mind. The last couple of nights were highlighted with special performances in the club."
"One night, this man bought me a drink. I thought it would be okay to sit and talk. Apparently, one drink turned into enough to get me drunk. I don't remember much after that except him walking me back to the cabin."( She would never be able to tell him the details of how much she remembered.)

Marcus: ( softly) "Much."  "You don't remember much."

Vanessa: " I woke up with a blinding headache and,,,"

Marcus: ( looking at her closely) " And, 'what' Vanessa?"

Vanessa: ( crying softly) " When I managed to get into the bath tub, I felt a burning sensation. That is when the reality of what I had done hit me. When I looked, I saw tiny bite marks around my groin area."

The room is silent for a full minute.

Marcus: (deadly softness) " So, he branded you."

Vanessa: " That is the term my doctor used. The symptoms from the chlamydia began a few days after I returned from the trip. I have two more days before the treatment is complete".

Vanessa: (looking directly into his veiled eyes) " Marcus, I would rather die than hurt you. There is absolutely no excuse for what I did. I know that if the tables were turned, I would want to kill you for hurting me this way. I don't have the words to tell you how sorry I am. But please, even if you now hate me, please Marcus, please believe that I am deeply sorry. I would give anything to have the chance to go back in time."

Marcus: " Well, now see Vanessa, killing you would perhaps be easier at this point in time, but that is not be an option for me. I don't hate you for the same reason. You see, I love you. The choice that you made, for whatever reason, does not negate my love.
My love is stronger than your choice".

"It is your love Vanessa,  that is in question. You knew that something heavy was going on within your spirit. You ignored any suggestions that anything was wrong and that you might need help. You neither loved yourself, or those of us who love you to find a solution to what was becoming a real problem in  your overall behavior".

"Before I came home, I asked God to help me handle whatever is fragmenting our lives; our love.
He is answering my prayer. Something has died inside of me Vanessa, but it is not my love.
Honestly, I feel like breaking everything in this house, except you.
You have managed to do a pretty good job of that yourself.
Right now, I don't have the strength nor the desire to help you deal with that".

Marcus gets up and walks into the sleeping area and picks up his keys.

Marcus: " I am going to the ranch. I will check on you tomorrow."

He looks at her intently for a moment before he leaves the room.

Tears have been steadily flowing from Vanessa's eyes. She doesn't begin to sob loudly until she hears the muted sound of the alarm being reset.
She suddenly realizes that she did not tell him how much she loves him.
Lord, please help me!

Before he drives away, Marcus picks up the phone and dials a number.

Lena: " Well, hi stranger! I hope you are not calling to tell me you did not like my food!"

Marcus: (quietly) " Of course not, you know your food is always delicious. I need you to do me big favor. Vanessa needs you. I would appreciate it if you could come out here and stay with her tonight."

Lena is silent; but quickly recovers and speaks..
Lena:  " Okay. I'm on my way. Marcus, are you okay?"

Marcus: " I've been better. Thank you Lena."

12:45 a.m.

As he hangs up the phone, he looks at the clock.
One hour, sixty minutes, and his life has changed forever.
By the time he reaches the expressway, his tears have started to flow.


Chapter 11.....The Aftermath

The Fragments of Love.....Chapter 9~~The Homecoming~~ / A Story by Sammye Kaye

VANESSA CALUMET
~~the wife~~

10:00 a.m.
Last night I woke up every hour on the hour. This has been 'my normal' for the last few weeks. I am physically and emotionally exhausted. I am also fully aware that I look like hell. Which of course, should not be surprising, since I have been residing in my own personal hell now for several weeks.

My husband will be home today.

The fact that our lives will never be the same weighs heavy on my heart and soul.

I returned to my doctor last week for a follow-up. I will not be 'clean' for two more days. Lord, how horrible and nasty that sounds! I actually have two doses of medication left to complete the treatment of the chlamydia.
The bite marks have almost completely faded, but there are tiny scars that almost form a pattern.
My husband has always loved to look at my body. He knows my body well enough to notice even the slightest change. My scars are not slight; he will know.

I have been simply going through the motions of living. I went to the hair salon yesterday. And not surprisingly, my stylist asked if I had been sick. I answered her truthfully by replying that yes, I had not been feeling well. I even took the time to get my nails done.

I have only barely managed to avoid most of my family. I have pretended to be involved in a new project. Who am I kidding? I did not pretend; I blatantly lied. Just as I lied to Marcus when he noticed a difference in my voice and suggested that I see my doctor to make sure I am okay. I told him that I was still tired from the trip, and after calling my doctor, she had prescribed extra vitamins.
It is true that once you start lying, the process becomes easier. I even added unnecessary embellishments.

Who have I become?

I have started hormone treatments, and I can already feel the difference. I no longer feel as if I am locked in a cage with no way out.
I am also faced with the cold, shameful facts of exactly what I have done.

My love for Marcus has almost become a physical pain. I miss him so much I want to just,,scream.
I am reaping what I have sown, and he doesn't even know what I have done yet.

But, he will know; because I must tell him.

I asked the kids to come over tonight because I need time to gather my courage. If they are here when he arrives, I can postpone what could well be the end of my marriage.

I was going to prepare most of his favorite dishes, but I don't want to blemish what are loving memories for both of us. We love to cook together and for each other.
Lena, who is an executive chef, will bring over food for the dinner.

5:00 p.m.

My babies have arrived, and the noise level is loud and comforting. The twins are playing with the toys they keep in their rooms upstairs as if it is Christmas. I had forgotten I had added a few new ones. Gia is walking around the family room talking on her phone, and the adults are catching up on the past few days of events.
I look around the room with a heart that is filled with gratitude.
How could I have made a choice that could disrupt the security and closeness of my beloved family?

My phone rings. Marcus will be home in 30 minutes.

MARCUS CALUMET
~~the husband~~

5:25 p.m.

I am a little surprised to see my kids cars in the driveway. Actually, more than a little surprised. Usually, if I am gone over 24 hours, Vanessa and I will spend at least five of the next 24 hours in bed , or somewhere, making love.
If I am honest with myself, I have not exactly been in a state of heavy desire. Our phone conversations have been foreign and strained, which suggests that she feels the same.

Okay...
 It is always a joy to see my children, so that will be my focus at the moment.

As I get out of the car, I look at the house that our love has turned into a place overflowing with comfort and peace. A place of rest and repair as we face the challenges of our lives.

My job has made me understand how much of a blessing it is to be able to come home. The last few weeks of seeing first hand how many people left home going about their daily routine, never again having the opportunity to return home, will stay with me forever.

 Once again I thank God for this blessing that so many people take for granted.
I also ask Him for the strength to deal with the changes that are glaringly present in my world.

The Fragments of Love.....Chapter 8~~"Are We Not a Part of This Family?!" Bethanny Speaks~~/ A Story by Sammye Kaye

BETHANNY CALUMET
~~the daughter~~

It is not always easy being the youngest child in the family, even if there are only two children. Oh, I love being the 'baby',, the problem arises when I am often the last person to know what is going on. Okay, that is probably stretching the facts a little, but I am extremely frustrated. The fact that my 'always has the answer' big brother is avoiding my calls, is adding fear to the mix.

To say that my family is close would be a huge understatement. To say that my parents are in love would only be a preface.
They are deeply in love.
They adore each other.
They are rarely apart except for work and emergencies.

So, why does it feel as if our world is about to change,,forever??

My mother is more hyper than usual; which is sorta scary. This cruise was a total surprise to me, and my mother plans everything months in advance.I received exactly two calls from her while she was on her trip. My mother normally calls me five out of every seven days. The first week was almost a vacation from her never ending questions and suggestions regarding how I should live my life.

I talked to my daddy three times during the first week he was gone, but he sounded so tired, well,,almost sad, I ended up calling him every night. I could not ignore the fact that we discussed every topic except,,my mother.
And yes, I am without any doubt, my daddy's baby girl.

Something is very, very wrong.

I am the single parent of an amazing thirteen year old daughter. Gia is the light of my life. My experience as a single mother has never been the struggle it can be for most women.
 I am truly blessed.
While my daughter's father was a huge disappointment, and my heart and spirit were damaged, my baby was worth every challenge that God brought us through.

My entire family surrounded me with unconditional love. However, my parents and my brother were so protective, it was a combination of scary and amusing.
I told my daddy, my brother, and my mother; in that order. By the time I talked to my mother, I was a complete wreck. Not because my daddy or my brother were not understanding, they were so loving and compassionate, I felt even more guilty for letting them down. I found out later just how much anger they directed toward my daughter's father. My daddy has learned to tolerate him, and my brother ignores him. My brother named my daughter and has always been her champion, so she doesn't seem to mind. My brother has always been my hero and I have always been his protector.
Yes, I did say protector..
I remember telling my mother how sorry I was for disappointing her. She smiled and pulled me into her arms and said that she was not disappointed in me, but she was disappointed for me.
She wanted my life to be perfect.
After we cried together, she told me that she was going to run me a bubble bath, and afterwards, we would sit down and form a plan for the next three years.
We stuck to the plan.

I had gotten pregnant during my sophomore year of college. With the support of my family, I graduated with my class. My graduation gifts were a total surprise. My parents bought me two three bedroom townhouses in  a brand new development. One for our home, and one for rental property.
Dakota and I had to work and save our money while we were growing up. Some of the money was used to buy investment property for our future. We had to participate in all aspects of ownership, to learn the basic levels of responsibility, from general upkeep, to paying the taxes.
I had received a substantial number of academic scholarships for college. That amount of money was placed in my savings.
My gift from my brother was a new SUV of my choice. He was amused when I picked a Honda Pilot.
I still own the yellow 65 Mustang my daddy 'sold' me when I was in the 10th grade. Gia was getting a little cramped, but I love my car. Gia believes she is getting my car for her 16th birthday. She is in for a big surprise. She has been 'working' on the ranch for the last two summers. Perhaps her Pop-Pop will 'sell' her one...

Upon graduation, I immediately entered Grad school. Education has always been my passion. I am now an Instructional Specialist-Reading Ed.S.  I could never have made my dreams into reality without the love and support of my family.
I also own a Non-Profit Org. that specializes in Reading. It is called 'Magic Carpet'. We offer free reading workshops in communities where test scores are lowest.

Building and sustaining a family is difficult at best. It takes God, prayer, and fortitude to hold the family unit together.
It is easy to forget just how easy it is to take the blessing of family for granted.

Never again.
I don't know exactly what is wrong, but the threat is real.
I can feel it in my heart....

The Fragments of Love.....Chapter 7~~"What Is Really Going On!!?"~~ A Story By Sammye Kaye

DAKOTA CALUMET...The son
BETHANNY CALUMET...The daughter


Dakota

Sometimes it is hard being the eldest child. Perhaps 'hard' is a little extreme; challenging is probably more accurate.
I have been avoiding my baby sister's phone calls. I know what she wants to talk about, and for the first time in my life, I don't have any answers for what I am sure will be her questions.

Something bizarre is going on with our parents. Yes, they are our parents, and they are somewhat of a separate entity, but, honestly,,our family has always been so close, it is almost impossible to feel,,,left out of any part of our lives. Until now...
Let me clarify, my sister and I have always been taught to be independent and confident enough to be who we are. We have also been taught the importance of being  'present' for each other.

Honestly, the possibility that there is something serious affecting the lives of our parents is frightening.

If I can manage to be half the man that my father is, I will be thankful beyond words. His unconditional love for all of us is as constant and real as the moon and the sun. Dramatic?  Perhaps. But, no less true.
The devotion of my mother is no less.
As different as their personalities are, their willingness and ability to love is phenomenal.

At 6' 9'', I was fortunate enough to play in the NBA for three years. It was a great opportunity; one that I am grateful for, but I was not as driven as most young men would be. I had a serious knee injury that ended my career, but fortunately, not my dreams. I obtained my MBA while in the League. By the time I left, I owned two small business that I later sold to invest in my lifetime dream.
I have always wanted to be totally independent. I did not want to depend on anyone else for my livelihood. It has been said that I am like my grandfather in that regard.

My father taught my sister and I the importance of a healthy work ethic by making it mandatory that we work during any off times from school, and save 50% of every dime. We worked during the summer on our family ranch. He and his friends provided other types of jobs for all of their children.
The hard work just reinforced my desire to be my own boss.
I bought my first car when I was in the 10th grade. My Dad wanted me to buy an older car that needed to be fixed up. Mechanics is not my forte, or interest, so I bought an older car that was in great condition. When I received a full athletic scholarship for college, my parents put the entire cost of a 4 year education into my savings account they started when I was born.

 When I earned my first degree, my father bought me the car of my choice; even though he knew I was going to be able to afford it myself. He said it was something he wanted to do; I accepted the gift with the love that it was given.
 It was during these times I realized that my parents were, well,, very wealthy.
 I chose not to touch the money until I started my main business.  I lived quite well during my time in the League, but I still managed to save half of my salary.

I always knew that I wanted to meet a woman that I could love as much as my father loved my mother, and a woman who would love me as much as my mother loved him.
They compliment each other perfectly.
When I told my father that I had met the woman I wanted to marry, he asked me one question,,, "Would you, without hesitation, give your life for her?"  Without hesitation, I answered yes.
He smiled and told me that if she was that special, I needed to take her off the market before someone else realized just how special she was. He said that grown men don't waste time playing games with the woman they want to be a part of their life.
 I thought long and hard about the real meaning of his question; I proposed the next day.
My wife and I have seven year old twins. Langston, my son, and Leah, my daughter give real purpose to my life.
They are quite a pair, and a real challenge for a man who thought that having children was an experience I could do without. I was so very wrong; I cannot imagine life without them.

My mother was a little harder to convince, but Kelly is awesome, and my mother quickly understood how perfect we are for each other. I must admit that Kelly and Bethanny were so close at one time, that I was a little jealous. I have always been my baby sister's hero; I don't ever want that to change. One day over lunch, she quietly told me that I would always be her big brother,,always. I was once again reminded of how well we know each other.
She is one of the very few people who have  never been intimidated by my size, deep voice, or personality.

When Bethanny got pregnant during her sophomore year of college, I felt as if I had failed her. I had sat her down and told her just what to expect from men. I thought I had prepared her for the... 'games'.
I seriously wanted to wrap my fingers around the neck of the person who dared to impregnate my baby sister. To this day, I have a hard time being civil to this person. It is only for the sake of my beautiful niece that I did not show him what it really means to hurt my sister. I will never forget her tears when he rejected her. Oh, he tried to make amends later, and he is a decent father, but he will always be less than a man. Always.
My niece Gia is a blessing for all of us, so it is certainly true that God is always in control. Gia's birth helped me to rethink my view on being a parent.
My sister is a beautiful, strong confident woman who also happens to be an awesome mother.

I have talked to my Dad every other day since he has been gone, and his voice has been even more quiet than usual. At first I thought it was work related, but I am a man, and his quietness is coming from his heart.
My Mom has been almost avoiding any conversation with me. Her voice is,,somewhat tense. But, she has been on a sharper edge than usual for a few months. I miss our talks; I miss my mother.

We both know that our parents do not take separate vacations. My Dad has never stayed on an assignment this long without at least flying home for a night whenever possible.
Now, after being apart for a month, my mother is having a gathering to welcome him home.
For these two people who have a suite for a bedroom. A suite that is soundproof. A suite that my sister and I would rummage through when the opportunity arose. Yep, we would find all kinds of interesting,,,items.
Two people who rarely pass each other without a gentle touch.

We would expect our parents to be locked away for at least a week before any homecoming celebration.

My phone is ringing. It's Bethanny..

Chapter 8.....Bethanny speaks

The Fragments of Love.....Chapter 6 ~~"Is That My Face in The Mirror?"~~ A Story by Sammye Kaye

VANESSA CALUMET
~~arrives home~~

Time seemed to stop. I cried until all of my tears were gone. Did I feel better? No, I actually felt worse.

I left my luggage in my car and slowly walked to the door leading into my custom designed kitchen. Oddly, I remembered to leave my shoes in the adjacent mud room.
 I also remembered my mother's response when I told her this area was a 'mud room'. She had shaken her head and wondered aloud why anyone would take the time to officially name any space, a mud room. I carefully explained to her that it was a place to leave anything that you did not want to bring dirt and clutter into the house.

 She simply gave me her trademark patient and slightly amused look, before just as carefully stating that it just seemed to be a way to bring the back porch into the house; same concept,,keep the dirty stuff separate from the clean.

With her words in mind, I did not feel that I deserved to enter my home.
My beautiful home that was built with with love and care. This home is a perfect combination of each member of my family. Each person's view and personality can be seen throughout the entire space. Both of our grown children and our grandchildren have permanent rooms in the house. Downsizing has never crossed any of our minds.

This will always be,,,home.
Our home,, that I have defiled.

This cold reality brought me to my knees. As I stretched my prone body on the kitchen floor, I once again thought about dying.

By the time I pulled myself up from the floor, my body was stiff and sore. I left the kitchen and went into the family room. I stopped and looked around the room that was filled with the presence of my beloved family. Every picture, every memento simply added to my pain. My heart was literally filled with burning pain.
I forced myself to run up the stairs; but of course, I could not run away from myself.
Before I opened the door of our suite,, ,, I tried in vain to pray.

I took a deep breath and walked into the room that has always been my safe haven.
 A room where our love was free to be expressed in any manner we chose.
A room where our dreams and fears were shared with the trust that comes from genuine unconditional love.
As I struggled to breath, I wondered if this room would soon become my personal hell.

I fell across the bed and cried myself to a fretful sleep.

The loud ring of the land line jarred me awake. It was my mother. I answered with an exaggerated sleep filled voice, and my mother quickly told me to go back to sleep; she was just checking on me.
I decided to call Marcus with that same 'voice', so he would not be worried about me.

It did not escape me that now,,I was concerned about his feelings..

Lord, am I going crazy??  Is that what my mother was trying to tell me??

The next day, Marcus called to tell me that he would be in New York for at least a week longer than expected, and they were unable to come home. I missed my husband deeply, but I saw the longer stay as a blessing directly from God. Whether it was a blessing for Marcus, or me, did not matter right now. The extra time would allow the bite marks to heal. Hopefully.

The next morning, I was surprised to wake up with a uncomfortable burning sensation in and around my vagina. I used a mirror to have a closer look, but other than the now angry looking bruises, I saw nothing else that was odd.
By mid-day, I had a nasty discharge.

I was stunned.
I am 58 years old,,this is just NOT happening to me.

I made a frantic call to my doctor, who is also a close friend. I was literally numb as I took an almost scalding hot bath.
 Once again I tried to pray; once again,, it was in vain. Instead, I cried until I reached the parking lot.
Before the examination, I told my friend everything. She tried to comfort me, but to no avail.
I could never have imagined the type of shame I felt as I placed my legs in the stirrups.
After the exam and I was back in the doctor's office, I did my best to make my mind a total blank.  There was an on sight lab, and since my friend wanted to get the results quickly, she walked the samples downstairs.

After what seemed like days, my doctor returned.
With a very sad and regretful look, she informed me that as she suspected,,, I have chlamydia.
She also informed me that she was giving me a tetanus shot as a precaution regarding the bite marks.

I was speechless.

She also told me to thank God, because this man was obviously a sick bastard.
He knew I was married, and he chose to 'brand' me in his own special way.
Brand me??
Merciful heaven..
.
She explained  that for some men, this is a show of demented power. They choose cruises because the time and space is a pretty much controlled environment. A woman alone is a perfect target; whether she is a willing participant or not.
The fact that she is alone is often a green flag,,,a signal that she just might be vulnerable enough for their,,game.
She finished by saying that my bruises will heal and the STD can be treated.
He just as easily could have drugged, and robbed me and thrown me overboard.

My dear friend cried with me before I left her office.
She insists that I come back to her office next week for a follow-up and to have a long overdue talk about my hormones.
Yes, yes, I know.

I stopped and had the prescription filled; and yes,,,I was embarrassed. I could just imagine the entire staff looking with horror and amusement at the 'elderly' woman with,,,I did not even want to think about the word..

I went home and thought about every choice I had made during the last year of my life.
I no longer had the luxury of tears,or dramatic thoughts of dying; that would be much too easy.
It was time for me to face the person in my mirror.

Finally, after all this time, I was able to get on my knees and,,,,pray.

Chapter 7~ The kids speak

The Fragments of Love.....Chapter 5 ~~New York, New York~~ / A Story by Sammye Kaye

MARCUS CALUMET
~alone in New York~

The city is thick with raw emotions. The grief for the innocent lives lost is the first emotion visible  on almost every face that you see. Shock is a very close second. We live in the great United States of America; this type of tragedy is simply not supposed to happen in this country,,to our people.
The fact that this has indeed happened, has opened the door to the unspoken feelings of,,fear. This is the type of fear that crosses all lines of diversity.
 The question becomes,,will this event draw us closer, or pull us apart?

Thankfully, I was too busy during the first week, to focus on the state of my marriage. We worked 12 hour shifts, and by the time my head hit the pillow, I was knocked out.

By the second week, my body had more or less adjusted to the schedule. Suddenly, neither my mind nor my body were adjusting to being away from my wife.  I was waking up several times during the night, reaching out and touching an empty space.
She called three times during the first week. We spoke briefly, and I at least knew that she was okay.
But, I hung up the phone feeling sad. My feelings were similar during our lovemaking on the morning I left for New York. The passion was almost bittersweet.

I decided not to go home on weekends. I had no desire to go home to an empty house. My mother and the kids were checking on the house.
Our two dogs were 'vacationing' with my mother. They would both need to be placed on a diet by the time we returned home.  My mother loved animals; especially dogs, and they would probably move in with her if they could make that happen.
I smiled at the thought.

My team is made up of six men ranging in ages from 32-52. Four of the men are married, and neither of the remaining two have ever been married.
We are an interesting bunch by any account.  In private, we refer to ourselves as the 'Dudes of Diversity',,,,,yeah, corny,,but effective. There are two Caucasians, one Hispanic/American, one Asian/American, one Jewish/American and one African/American.
 Four of us have worked together for the last 15 years. I hand picked these men because I wanted the wealth of knowledge and insight our differences could collectively utilize.
It has worked because we have proven our respect and trust for each other, many times over.

I must admit that for the most part, my team is using this time away from home to unwind. I have never been a party animal and this would not be a great time to start.
I might just enjoy it.
However, I did rent a flick a couple of nights ago, but I fell asleep within the first ten  minutes,,so perhaps I am safe.
I realized that what I really needed was some real comfort. I decided to use this much needed time to study my Bible, reflect and pray about my marriage,,and my life.
I love God with all of my being, but I am guilty of pushing the study of His word to the bottom of my list of what is important.
I will use what is a very sad time for me to glorify my Father.
Don't we always?

I called Vanessa on her way home. Her voice was,,,distant. She is obviously still in the same place she was before her trip.

I just found out that we will stay in New York for an extra week.

Chapter 6...Vanessa arrives home

The Fragments of Love.....Chapter 4 ~~Vanessa Departs~~ / A Story by Sammye Kaye

VANESSA CALUMET
~~the cruise~~

The days leading up to my departure were strained. Marcus and I managed to successfully avoid each other. We made love the night before he left for New York.  No matter what is going on in our lives, we have always been able to keep our passion flowing. Our libidos have always been in sync with each other. I must admit, there was almost a feeling of what ? Sadness?
I quickly pushed that thought aside.

I am excited about my trip. I have purposely kept my true feelings to myself. My mother acted as if someone had passed away. Na'nie Tia has been unusually quiet. Even Lena has been cautious regarding her comments.  I casually mentioned my trip to my children in order to avoid any questions that I had no intention of answering.  I even chose to drive myself to the dock and leave the car in the parking lot.

The cabin was beautiful. The fact that I was unable to get a refund for Marcus, never entered my mind.
My mother told me that I should at least be honest with myself, and admit that I wanted to go alone.
Okay, I will admit that,,fact.

I slept most of the first two days. I had no idea how tired I was. I actually missed a couple of meals.
The morning of the 3rd day found me rested and ready to enjoy this trip.
The people assigned to my table were all very nice. I was the only single person, and the seat assigned to Marcus remained empty. I simply refused to look at it.
The ease in which I moved around the ship was surprising to me. I have been a married woman for most of my life, but seriously, I felt anything but a married woman.
I drank, I danced, I did whatever I felt like doing..
The first week flew by. So far, I had enjoyed every moment of the trip.
 I did remember to e-mail Marcus three times during the first week.

I love music, and the band was awesome. I noticed the same very handsome man always sat in the same seat. He seemed to be alone. Our eyes had locked a couple of times and we both smiled.
Two nights before we were scheduled to return home, one of the band members asked the man if he would join them. He was an amazing drummer. I stood up and clapped loudly when he finished.
He came directly over to my table and asked if I enjoyed his ,,performance. We sat at my table and talked until the club closed for the morning. He had ordered wine and we finished off a couple of bottles..

I remember how nice,,and naughty,, his first passionate kiss was. We ended up going back to my cabin.
The sex was hot and forceful; almost,, rough. But apparently not too rough for me to stop.
We spent the last two days in my cabin,,in bed,,,drinking and having sex.

Finally, it was time to prepare to leave the ship. He left the room and I ran a long overdue bath.
When I eased into the hot water, I immediately felt stinging, almost burning sensations over the lower region of my body.
I suddenly felt a sense of panic. I quickly finished washing my aching body and went to the bedroom to make a thorough examination. I got the mirror from my suitcase and was shocked by what I saw.
My groin area was covered in deep, small bite marks, from just below my stomach to the inside of my thighs.

I wanted to die. Instantly.

If I had planned on going home and keeping my leap into nastiness and adultery a secret,,,this was a serious wake-up call. These bruises would not quickly disappear. My complexion and their depth would make that impossible.

I suddenly felt as if I had been hit by a train.
I couldn't even cry.

I don't remember packing my suitcases and leaving the cabin.
I do remember seeing my nameless 'lover' getting into his car and driving away.

My tears did not begin to fall until I pulled into the garage of my home.
My husband would be home in 48 hours.
What was I going to do??


Chapter 5,,,Marcus in New York

The Fragments of Love.....Chapter 3 ~Mothers Always Know~ / A Story by Sammye Kaye

ITIA CALUMET
~~his mother~~

My son has always been the center of my life. This was true when he was born, and it is still true today. His marriage to Vanessa allowed me to understand how it feels to love a daughter, and have that daughter love me. Vanessa has a wonderful mother, and she has never needed an extra, but she is my bonus child.

It has been both a blessing and a joy to see their love grow and blossom over these years. Neither one of them are perfect, but,,there love is perfect for them.
To see my child in a loving relationship means more to me than I can explain.
He grew up knowing my love, but his father never learned how to demonstrate his love to the people that he truly loved; if that makes sense.
No matter; my son and I both survived.

My deceased husband firmly believed in the ownership of property. He worked two jobs most of his life, in order to leave his son financially secure.
My son has added to his inheritance many times over.
Marcus and Vanessa live in a beautiful home that sits in the middle of six acres of lushness.
My modest cottage sits on the same property, a little less than a mile away. A winding road lined with a combination of wild flowers and evergreens connects our homes.
We jointly own a large working horse ranch ten miles outside of the city. The original house built by my husband is where I spend most summers. Marcus and Vanessa have a large home that they use for short vacations. Their children actually spend more time at the farm than their parents.

Marcus and Vanessa started a Co-Op 20 years ago that provides fresh produce for the nearby Native American community, at no cost. I personally find the word commonly used to describe these communities to be offensive.

This evening, Marcus drove past me without even seeing me. The look on his face spoke volumes. I could see the simmering look of anger so familiar in his father; but rarely present in my son. My son, who has always been 'slow to anger'.

Of course I am concerned, but I never invite myself into other grown folks business. Both Tina and I have been worried about the mood swings Vanessa has been trying desperately to ignore. She refuses to accept that the hormonal roller coaster of some women, will bring the strongest woman to her knees.
Chances are, Marcus is more moody than usual, and Vanessa is more emotional.
It is the love and respect they have for each other that has helped their marriage survive their stark differences in personalities.
At this point, all I can do is pray for my children. I will ask God to prepare all of us for the storm that I know is headed this way..
I just know.

TINA MORGAN
~~her mother~~

I woke up this morning with a heavy heart. This usually means that I need to get myself prayed up, because a storm is brewing on the horizon.
When Vanessa told me last night about the cruise she booked, I wanted to cry.
There was nothing loving about her decision. We all know that Marcus hates cruises.
She doesn't want him to go.

My first born child entered a world where she was treated like the blessing that she was. I had two miscarriages prior to her birth, and had almost given up hope of ever holding my own baby in my arms. The lost of two babies had left me emotionally drained and very much afraid.
Delvyn and I doted on our tiny, beautiful baby girl. Vanessa was born with a strong attitude. My mother was a tiny woman with a big, warm heart. Vanessa is a tiny woman with good heart and a big, bossy mouth.
I can say this, because she is my child.
She is also a wonderful daughter. She was her Daddy's princess from the day she was born, until the day he died.
She married Marcus and became his queen in every sense of the word.
 Being loved is all she has ever known.
Her emotions, all of them,,,, are full of passion. Her loyalty to those she loves is phenomenal. Her ire is almost scary.
Trying to tell her something she does not want to hear is a total waste of time.

When I was going through the change of life, I felt as if someone else was sharing my body. My poor husband told me that he seriously thought about leaving me. I truly understand. And I have a laid back personality!
I knew that Vanessa would be a force to be reckoned with.
Poor Marcus..

Like so many other young women, Vanessa is convinced that older woman could never understand the restlessness that is sure to show up during our lifetime. Most people wonder if 'this' is all there is to their life.
It is not unusual to feel like a mere shadow of a strong man; even one that is kind and gentle.

I know that she is headed for a hard fall.
I have no choice but to surrender my fears to the Lord.

I need to check my blood pressure, because now I have a big time headache.
This is going to be a very long day.
If grown children would just understand that a loving parent will rarely tell them anything that is not for their own good.
Some of them just will not listen.

Mothers always,,know.
We just do.

.
Chapter 4 ~ Turbulent Seas~~

The Fragments of Love.....Chapter 2 ~Marcus~ / A Story by Sammye Kaye

MARCUS CALUMET
~~~the husband~~~


There have been many times during the last 30+ years that Vanessa has pushed my patience into unknown territory.
Never, have I been this angry at anyone that I love.
My wife is difficult on her best days. In no way, form or fashion has her attitude and selfishness ever affected my unconditional love for her.
The woman I saw tonight was a stranger.

I have always been fascinated by the sheer force of my wife's personality. Her passion is a part of every facet of her being. If she loves you, she loves you with a love so strong, it is almost palpable. If she dislikes someone, her dislike is just as obvious.

She was 15 years old the first time I saw her. She had her hand on one hip, and was shaking her finger in the face of a tall, lanky young man who was trying to pull away from her wrath. I later found out that the young man had made an unacceptable comment about her best friend, Lena; who is still her best friend. The fact that she had to look quite a ways up at the young man, did not phase her at all.
I feel in love with her at that moment.

I have always treated my wife in the manner that I felt my mother should have been treated by my father.
My father was a man who never figured out how he felt about being a double minority. Although he was proud of his heritage as a Native American/ Black man, he also had a simmering anger regarding his role in a country that he was taught to love unconditionally by his elders.
He was an educated man who allowed his anger to hinder the use of that education to help his people,,, a people he so desperately wanted to help.
His anger kept him from being a loving husband and father.
He seemed to be afraid of,,peace.
Maybe he just didn't believe he deserved the life he had worked so hard to build.
He was killed in a drunken barroom brawl before he could ever figure what path to take.
How sad and ironic that his death would have been fodder for the average armchair racist.

I understand my father's frustration. I even understand his anger. But,,,,as I stood watching my grandfather and my uncles perform the burial rituals for this man who never told me he loved me, I made the decision to live my life in a different way.

That was also the day that I asked God to come into my life, to show me how to get it right.
I fully understood that I could/can do nothing without His love and guidance.

My ancestors from both sides of my heritage have paid for my right to love this country of ,,ours.
I decided to join the FBI in order to make a difference from the inside out.

One person will not change the system.
However,,,
When a door opens for one person, that person can at least attempt to hold the door open for someone else to enter.

It's funny how much of your past enters your mind when you are having a hard time dealing with your present....

What?.,,,I didn't realize I had driven this far.
Did my unexpected anger invite the ghosts of my father to my pity party??

I need to do some serious praying.


The bottom line is pretty simple,,,my wife seems to have lost her mind.
I have no doubt that she will go on the cruise without me.
I could probably stop her, but what would that prove??
She has to follow her heart.
It is a code we have always honored.
Until now, our hearts always managed to follow the same basic path..

So,,, I will go to New York.
I will also pray for my wife's safety, my sanity and our marriage.

Am I afraid?
Yes. I am very much afraid.

Chapter 3 ~ Nanie Tia~ ( Marcus's mother) and~ Miz Tina~ (Vanessa's mother)

The Fragments of Love.....Chapter 1~Vanessa~ / A Story by Sammye Kaye

VANESSA CALUMET

~~~the wife~~~

 

 

When someone mentions 9/11, a shiver runs down my spine. Not only because of the attack on our country, but because during that week, my life began a downward spiral.

 

I would become my worst possible enemy.

 

If I am honest with myself, my path to pain began roughly two years earlier. My 55th birthday seemed to expose a side of myself that I had rarely witnessed before. I am well aware that I have a strong personality. I know that I can be pushy, and maybe even rude, but never with those that I love. 

Overall, I have gotten much better over the years. I really have. 

At least,,, I had gotten better...

Intense anger had never been a part of the mix.

Until this time in my life....

 

I have been blessed to have the best husband in the world. We are almost polar opposites.

Marcus is 6' 6'' inches of gorgeousness. He is Native American, with just enough Black spread throughout his genes to give him the look of a big fine Samoan. Marcus is kind and considerate of others, almost to a fault.

 

I am 5'4'' in heels. I am pretty and petite with curves. And,,,, I am selfish, almost to a fault. 

Marcus and I met when we were in high school. I loved him from the first moment I saw him. We seriously thought about eloping, but I knew my father and Marcus's mother would have tracked us down and locked us up somewhere until we came to our senses.

 

We waited until Marcus got his first degree before we got married. I took my time graduating because, I was blessed to get a job as office manager for a growing team of physicians. My job grew along with the practice. I retired last year from the position of Director of Operations for six clinics.

 

I never had to work. Marcus has always been an excellent provider for me and our two children. He has always insisted that any money I made was for 'extras'.

I loved,,extras.

I was a spoiled wife. Anything I wanted, I received. I tried to be mature about 'stuff' but Marcus made it easy for me to demand so much.

Marcus has always known how much I love him. I have supported every dream he has ever had.

I would gladly die for him.

 

Six months ago, I began to feel totally dissatisfied with my life. I was restless, irritated, and short tempered...

Okay, even more than usual. 

One day, out of the blue, even my eldest grandchild asked me if I was sick. Now, my baby is only 14 years old, and I should have listened closer to what she had to say; or at the very least, question why.

 

My mother was the first person to actually confront me about my behavior.

I had,,almost,, snapped at her about.. something.

I remember the day well....

 

Mama: " Vanessa, what is wrong with you?"   "Something serious HAS to be wrong with you, to use that tone with me!"

 

Vanessa: ( sighing) " I'm sorry Mama."  "Nothing is wrong with me; I am just tired!"

Mama:  " Tired of what?"  " You are retired from work."  "Your housekeeper comes in three times a week". "Only you and Marcus are here" . :What on earth could you be tired of!?"

Vanessa: " My life Mama!? "  "I am tired of my life!"  "And, no disrespect Mama, but I don't need you to remind me of my many blessings!"  " Please,,,I know!"  " And,,,you will be surprised to know that, contrary to every one's belief, Marcus cannot walk on water, and he is not a saint!"

 

It was a few moments before my mother spoke. I was surprised by the gentleness in her voice...

 

Mama: "Okay, now listen to me Vanessa. You have reached a time in your life when you might wake up with feelings that make absolutely no sense at all" Baby,,,"

Vanessa: (laughing) " Stop Mama!" " Please do not give me the hormone story!" Me and my hormones are just fine, thank you very much!"

Mama: "Vanessa, you were high strung when you were two years old!"  " I tried to prepare you for this possibility several years ago, but you refused to listen." Talk to your doctor baby!"

 

Needless to say, I did not listen to my mother, or my husband when he suggested that I make an appointment with my doctor, after one of my,,tantrums. 

I have rarely allowed anyone to tell me what to feel, or how to act.

 

Marcus and I have been married over 30 years. He has worked for the FBI for 20 of those years.

He is far from a pushover, and he does have limits. I happen to know what those limits are, and when he gives me that certain look, I back off.

 

I had decided that I wanted to go on a two week international cruise. Marcus hates cruises, but I made the arrangements and planned on surprising him.

If I whined and cried long and hard enough, he always gave in.

We were scheduled to leave on September 18.

 

My husband came home on 9/12 and announced that he had to go to New York. He was taking a hand picked team, and would be gone for at least three weeks. Surprisingly, he and his team would come home on weekends; which is rarely possible. He suggested that I spend the last week with him in New York. He knows how much I love to shop,,,anywhere; but especially New York.
 

All in all, he was quite pleased with himself.

He desperately wanted to help in some way; that is simply who he is.
I know that he loves his job, and he is an expert in his field. 

He also seemed to be excited about the 'away' time we would have together.

 

I was,,livid!!.

With much attitude, I told him about the cruise.....

.

Marcus: ( after several minutes of silence and looking closely at his wife) " Okay, let me see if I can get this straight." 

"Vanessa, are you telling me that you have booked a two week cruise without mentioning it to me first?"  "Or, hell, even as an after thought?" 

Vanessa: " Marcus, it was a surprise!"

Marcus: (huge sigh) " Did you somehow forget that I am not a fan of surprises,,and I happen to hate cruises?"  " Or as is the norm, you basically don't care!"  "My vote goes for number two!"

Vanessa:  " Well, I don't recall you informing me about your trip to New York!"

Marcus:  "Inform you?"  "Vanessa, this is my job..."

 

Vanessa: " Oh please Marcus! You know that you want to go! Always Mr. Wonderful, and I am always the crazy, thankless cow!"

Marcus: (softly) " Cow is not the word that comes to my mind."

 

Vanessa: "Frankly, I really don't care!"

 

I will never forget that night as long as I live.
Marcus left the house.

 

My pathway to pain had officially begun....both receiving and giving,

 

 

*Next Post: MARCUS CALUMET~~~the husband~~~

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



Riding The Waves / A Story by Sammye Kaye

I woke up in a cold sweat. Again. I threw the covers back in frustration. I feel as if I have been riding the waves in a turbulent sea.
Maybe the cold air against my damp body would help to bring me back to the present.
It was just a dream..

I went to the kitchen and brewed a pot of tea.

Four years ago, on my way to work, I was struck by a drunk driver. The female driver was returning from her 20th birthday party. She ran a red light, and the large pick-up she was driving 15 miles over the speed limit,,, slammed into my brand new sporty red compact.
I was smiling as I listened to the expensive sound system that I reluctantly splurged on..
.
I woke up to the sound of crunching metal and the smell of something burning. Both the sound and odor were coming from the machinery used to remove the roof of my car.
Pain smothered my body much like the heavy handmade quilts that my grandmother kept on all of her beds. Except,,, the quilts were comforting; this heaviness literally took away by breath..
The loud, grating noise from the saw was almost a whisper compared to the burning pain pulsating throughout my body.

I was in the hospital for three weeks, and in therapy for a year. I had multiple breaks in my left leg and arm, and injury to my back. I also had a concussion that left me with recurring headaches. I hardly remember the discomfort from the many cuts and abrasions, but I do remember the glass in my hair..
By far, my back injury has been the most challenging. The diagnosis has always been sketchy; at least for me. By this time, I just wanted relief from the ever present pain.
My doctors seemed unable to agree on exactly why the pain is so severe.

As is the norm, for women, I was sent to a psychiatrist to rule out the possibility that my pain was a figment of my active imagination or,,hormones,,,,,or an attempt to receive extra attention.

I deeply resented the fact that I had to both remind and convince these people that I was a 23 year old single woman who has always loved my life. I think maybe I am predisposed to be happy.
That life had suddenly been taken over by pain.

*The young lady who hit my car walked away with a few scratches. It would have been nice if she had at least told me she was sorry about the accident. It would have changed nothing, but it still would have been nice to,,know.

Two years ago, my doctor sent me to a pain specialist. After hours of testing, I was given an injection, two prescriptions for pain, and a well known muscle relaxant.
By the time I left the clinic, I felt as if I had just experienced a miracle, just from the injection.

My life returned to the level of normalcy that I had been praying for.
I can only get the injections every 4 months, which is fine, because the prescription pain killers work very well.

Too well...

I am now addicted to prescription drugs.
My body became dependent very quickly.
I have always been careful to take any medication exactly as prescribed.
I was so thankful to be pain free, I failed to notice how euphoric I was feeling overall...all of the time. One of the drugs could be taken as needed. My body apparently decided it was needed more than was safe for me to take.
I listened to my body.

When I began to lose time during the day, I was concerned, but not alarmed. I live alone, so it took quite a while before I took the time to check myself. I soon realized that I was taking the meds for any discomfort, and sleeping whenever I got the chance.
One weekend, in the midst of a severe headache, I glanced in the bathroom mirror, and noticed I had a,, 'zombie' look. When I swallowed, I noticed that my tongue felt thick and stiff. If I had to speak to someone, it would have been difficult; perhaps even impossible.
I felt somewhat normal?,,,but looked quite the opposite.
Living alone helped me to hide the truth from myself.

How did I let this happen??
.
I decided to test myself by not taking the medication for a couple of days. I didn't even last 24 hours.
The back pain came back worse than before,,, along with shakiness, leg cramps, insomnia and a monster headache.
When I could no longer take it, I grabbed that pill bottle with an urgency that was frightening.

I made an appointment with my doctor and we discussed my options.
 Such as they were..

I had three choices.
Live with the pain,,minus drugs.
Live pain free,,,being dependent on the drugs
.
 I knew that it is never wise to abruptly stop taking medication without consulting your physician.
But, I did not want to be dependent on anything. However, I knew that the chronic pain would change my life forever. I didn't want to live in a fog of pain.

My doctor and I decided to slowly reduce the number of pain killers I would take each day.
I now take a non-addictive muscle relaxant. The withdrawal from the original drug was a huge challenge, and the process took an entire week.

 This means that I will have no choice except to learn how to live my life,,,with some pain and discomfort.

My pain is real.

My doctor has helped erase my guilt by assuring me that we can manage the medication safely and effectively. He has also insisted on monitoring my progress.
So far, there has been no damage to my body.

* Honestly, I was as ashamed as I was afraid.
 Being drug dependent was not something I could handle alone.
I had to be honest with myself and my doctor.


My life is far from easy, but I know that I am blessed to even be alive.
When I shift my focus from myself to others, the days are easier. 
I have the power to choose the quality of life I want to live..because
God is my strength.

I have been left with an interesting,,side effect.
At least once a week, I have the 'accident dream'.
It is usually on a day when the waves of pain have been strong and unforgiving..
But, that's okay,
It is not a dream, but the waves are becoming easier to ride.