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
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
Sunday, February 24, 2013
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 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
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
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~~
~~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~~
Monday, February 18, 2013
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 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)
Sunday, February 17, 2013
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.
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.
Marcus left the house.
My pathway to pain had officially begun....both receiving and giving,
*Next Post: MARCUS CALUMET~~~the husband~~~
Sunday, February 3, 2013
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.
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.
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