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.
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
Monday, May 27, 2013
'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.
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.
Sunday, May 12, 2013
"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..
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..
Thursday, May 2, 2013
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 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.
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