Before Ever After

I cannot rave about this book enough. I just finished it and it's all I want to think about. It's one of the most beautifully written, creative stories I've read in a very long time (and I read many, many books each year). I am deeply touched by the characters and the exploration of love and loss; what that means, how to cope and how to move on. The scenes are vivid and rich and the characters wonderfully three-dimensional. Max's story is moving and original. I couldn't wait to get to the next adventure... but I didn't want it to end. I so desperately didn't want it to end. For the first time in a while, I wanted to BE Shelley. I wanted to curl up next to Max and never, never, ever let go. I want to relive the novel over and over, memorize it, absorb it into my soul, incorporate it in my very DNA.

I hate that I can't tell you more... but I don't want to spoil anything. I will say... you absolutely must check out this book!

A few quotes from the book that moved me:

"Growing old is to be set free, Brother," the abbot said. "It is a slow and long-simmering process that extracts from you what you are really made of. But it requires acceptance. You cannot put a flailing chicken in a boiling pot. You must accept the heat and the pain with serenity so that the full flavors of your life may be released."

 "Shelley, will you let me hold your hand as we outrun reason, brush past elephants, race up steps, tumble down hills, roll in the hay, leap over crumbling walkways, and dangle our legs over ledges?"

 "She had known a love worth mourning, a love worth remembering."

My Review on Goodreads

A Beautiful Scenic Journey of the Book (aka The Official Book Trailer)

Y is for YES!

I'd mentioned in L is for Love and Lisa that when I met two of the men I have loved, I had a "YES!" feeling. Let me explain...

I trust my intuition. It's very, very rarely steered me wrong. Sometimes, I don't listen to it at first, but 99.99% of the time, it's been dead on. My trick is to listen. I have met two men that made me think/feel "YES!" and both of them were incredible life lessons. Most of the men that I've met I've thought/felt "NO!" or, even worse, "hmmm... maybe? I guess I could get used to this?!" I, personally, think that most first divorces result from people not waiting until they meet a "YES!" I know that I'd rather be alone than be with a "NO!" or a "Maybe." I don't think attempting those relationships are fair to either myself or the person I'm with. I believe they also deserve a "YES!" Now, I can't tell you exactly what the means. It's not a personality type or a quality... it's simply a feeling inside that says, "I'm going to board this train and I'm not getting off until the very last stop." Neither of the men that I've loved were what I'd expected. I guess that speaks to the fact that 1) you need to be open, and 2) sometimes the Universe knows more about what you need and want than you do.

Smitty

I met Smitty when I was 20. I was at a stage in my life where theatre was my world. I had no interest in a significant relationship. I wanted to play and discover, with no interest in having anything committed. Smitty was... dazzling. He was like a whirlwind around me. I didn't know which way was up and which way was down. He was, hands down, the most dynamic man that I'd ever (to this day) known. He was... persistent. I couldn't say "no." Despite my arsenal of weapons, he kept coming back. He was so intelligent. He spoke 5 (yes, 5) languages fluently and he was so frickin' romantic. On the first morning after we'd made love, he sang to me and then fixed me breakfast. We used to compete to see who could make the most romantic gesture. We would sit on the floor and he'd play the guitar and make up Blues songs about me. It was insane... and so very much fun. We would go to a public place and completely make up stories about who we were and why we were there. He was creative and fascinating. He taught me that I deserved to be loved... and more, listened to. He wanted me, all of me. I never had a remote doubt about that. He would get a certain look in his eyes that would make me melt; and that would happen anywhere, no matter how public. He had a raw sensuality and he taught me about passion, being uninhibited and that I could be utterly sexy.  

Smitty was 35 and at a very different phase of his life than I was. He wanted to turn me into the perfect little house wife and mother. I was twenty and had no idea WHO I wanted to be, let alone where I wanted to be in the next year. The control issues... oh my! We fought all the time, about everything. It was so exhausting. I would get so tired of arguing. I just wanted us to be. I wanted him to let me simply... be.

After Smitty I spent a lot of time thinking about what we had, what I wanted and what I didn't. I spent many years working on myself. In my next relationship, I wanted to be whole, or as whole as possible. But, deep down, I didn't believe I was worthy and made romantic decisions that reflected that. It took me a LONG time to start to believe that. And, even still, that insidious thought will sneak in and sabotage all of my hard work.

"I will be walking one day, down a street far away. And see your face in a crowd. And smile. Knowing how you made me laugh, hearing sweet echoes of your from the past. I will remember you." - Amy Grant, I Will Remember You

Sean

As I've mentioned before, I waited 19 years before I met another man that made me want to say "YES!" I met Sean unexpectedly. I thought I was heading into a one night stand and I was okay with that. He opened his door and smiled and looked at me in such a way... and that big, bright white and neon sign lit up over his head with giant pink arrows flashing down at him. It said, "YES!" I closed my eyes and ignored it. I had a fantastic evening with him and the morning after the first night we slept together, I curled into his chest and breathed in. He smelled of "home." And I thought, "Crap! I'm in so much trouble here." I fully expected to leave and never hear from him again. I was okay with that. I was prepared for that. I had a wonderful night and was prepared to just bask in that. And then he said he liked me. And hope lit up inside me. Sean taught me how to simply be me. I didn't have to be anyone else for him and it felt so liberating. For the first time... ever (initially)... I felt like I was enough. I could be silent and didn't have to fill the space. I didn't have to entertain and I didn't have to control. I could be soft and feminine. When I was hurt or scared or happy or confused, he listened. He taught me I could openly express myself and be vulnerable and it wouldn't be the end of the world (and I really, genuinely feared it might be). He taught me things I'd never experienced before and opened me to thoughts and feelings and experiences that were... well, in a word, incredible. He took me to heights that he simply does not comprehend. He taught me that I could BE myself and not LOSE myself in a relationship. We had a quieter relationship and it's those simple moments that leave me longing at times. We would walk at sunset and just talk and hold hands. It was the perfect way to end my day. He taught me that I could share my space and that it was okay. He taught me that I'm fantastic in relationships and I that really enjoy them (though I still hate "dating.") He taught me what it means to forgive myself and others... and that was a lesson I was long in need of.

"You say the word. You know I will find you. Or if you need some time I don't mind. I don't hold on to the tail of your kite. I'm not like the girls that you've known. But I believe I'm worth coming home to. Kiss away night. This girl only sleeps with butterflies. With butterflies. So go on and fly then boy." - Tori Amos, Sleeps With Butterflies

I once had the absolute pleasure of hearing Richard Bach speak and he was discussing the end of his relationship with Leslie Parrish-Bach. He said that when you meet a soulmate (yes, "a"... I believe we have many, not just one, and they come in all forms - from friends to lovers to random strangers that say just the perfect thing at a perfect moment), it takes work and you have to continue to attempt to see each other. When you stop, you lose that connection (that YES! feeling) and they cease to be your soulmate.

I will forever be grateful to these men. They taught me so much... opened me to so much!! I sincerely hope that I get that "YES!" feeling again and that it doesn't wait another 19 years to appear because it's such an incredible place to live. I will not settle because that "YES!"... that feeling... is far too amazing to ever stop reaching for.

M is for Memories

I have a poem posted under my poetry tab called Miscellaneous Me, which is filled with memories. I am made up of all my experiences... all my memories. I am the wonder I felt when looking at the sun through a newly bloomed tree, the softness of that cool breeze I felt when the sun was just a tad too warm, the hurt I felt after a betrayal, the excitement inspired by holding onto a new ticket to a Yanni concert. I am all those things and more. I know there are some that would argue with me. But me... I AM made of all those moments. The positive and negative are all a part of me.

Memories are such an interesting thing. They're not wholly the truth, which makes them a lie. And yet, they're our truths. They're what binds us to a situation or person, for better or worse. We hold on to those moments, filling in the details so thoroughly a memory is created. They fill in the cracks of who we are and define our responses. They can prevent us from moving on when it's time, or keep us from letting go when it's not. When the words are few, the bond of those shared moments still remain. They bring us joy in times of darkness. They offer hope and speak to possibility. They can also remind us when we're not meant to go back. And provide a fond smile when the thought dances to the forefront of our brain and the healing is complete.

"I will be walking one day. Down a street far away. And see your face in a crowd. And smile. Knowing how you made me laugh. Hearing sweet echos of you from the past. I will remember you." -Amy Grant, I Will Remember You.

L is for Love and Lisa

I couldn't decide on just one topic for this letter. Every time I'd start to compose this in my brain I'd end up on the other topic. Decide, okay, perhaps I'm meant to talk about that topic and find myself back at the original one. So, it felt important to write about both.

Love

Last year I fell in love with someone for the first time in 19 years. The second I saw him everything in me said, "YES!" I had been waiting for that feeling for a very long time. I can't say that I wholeheartedly trusted it... but I didn't deny it's existence.

My first love happened when I was 20 and I loved him fiercely and passionately but was never able to tell him (see B is for Bravery for reasons why). Oh, I told him that I adored him and that I thought he was amazing. But I could never say those three little words. They meant too much... they were too powerful. And, I don't trust love much. So when Smitty and I broke up, it was one of the things that I regretted... not saying how I felt.

Since then I hadn't met someone that drew me enough... that I wanted to spend that sort of time with... until Sean. My dynamic with him was 180 degrees from what I had with Smitty. With Smitty it was a flash fire, fast and intense, passionate and dramatic (oh the drama and fighting!)... and so quick to burn out. With Sean, I knew immediately that he was someone that I wanted to spend a lot of time with. Those voices in my head that ordinarily flash into the future and predict how the relationship will go were turned off. I was content to take it a day at a time; to simply enjoy the experience and see what happened. I felt I had nothing but time. I didn't want kids of my own (I knew I'd some day be a step-mom, there are few men my age that don't already have children) and I wasn't sure where I stood on the whole marriage concept... so there was no reason to rush. But, to quote Tori Amos, "I like rivers that rush in." So though emotionally things weren't moving quickly, for me at least, our lives together did. In some ways, things were very easy between us. We lived well together. We shared domestic duties well together. We didn't argue. We could have deep, intense conversations without feeling the need to change or convince the other person that our position was the correct one. Each of us are very good listeners and we both like to live life beneath the surface. In some ways, we were very alike and in others total opposite. For me, it was a nice balance. We didn't always have a lot in common to talk about but it meant that there was something new I could learn from him and also gave me the benefit of remaining close to my female friends because all my words weren't given to him. I still had more to talk about. He was strong, physically and emotionally, but also unafraid to cry. I liked that in him. It made me feel as though I didn't always have to be the strong one; that I could let go and surrender the need to control for a bit. The world wouldn't fall apart if I sat in the passengers' seat for a while. With Sean, I was slow to fall in love. Both of our lives were in flux and we were dealing with a lot of life changes. I wasn't 20 anymore... I was rapidly heading towards 40 and I looked at love in a way that wasn't about simple infatuation. We questioned at times whether there was enough passion in our lives. I think that aspect bothered him more than me. I saw it as lack of drama. I felt passion for him. I wanted to watch him because he amazed me, touch him because he turned me on, talk to him because he intrigued me and for me, that was passion... it just didn't come in that intense package. We were about 6 months into our relationship when it began to occur to me that I loved him. But because it was still fresh for me, I didn't say anything. I didn't trust my feelings and honestly, I didn't trust his. I didn't know where he stood where I was concerned and was afraid to ask those questions. And then he broke my heart. That story is not for here and not for this time. But I found myself finally telling him that I loved him on the last night we were together as a couple. It was... ironic.

Now I have the chance to open my heart again. Love for me has never been an easy emotion. It's wrapped up in all sorts of fears. Because of Smitty I wonder if the flash and burn is real... but because of Sean I question if I'm on the road alone. I don't know where to find the balance.

This new man is interesting and intelligent. He looks amazing on paper and I've enjoyed our conversations. Each relationship is different and always... always... a new dynamic is created between those particular individuals. I liked me with Sean and I grieve that loss of self. This new man is interested in me in a way that Sean never expressed and that's a bit scary. He lives a good ways from me so seeing him has, to date, not been possible. And, if the chemistry is there it would require leaving everything I moved back to Denver for behind again. That's scary, too. I'm still not sure I'm ready to take that leap.

I feel torn because Sean still holds pieces of me... but I feel the tug of this potential, too. I still want to say "YES!" to Sean but question whether that's possible and letting go is what is supposed to happen. What I do know is that I want to love and I want to live. Turns out that despite all the intimacy fears that I'd had between Smitty and Sean, I'm really good at relationships. Who would've thunk it?!?

Lisa

I've mentioned The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin... oh, about a hundred times, so it should come as no shock that I'm mentioning it again.  She talks a lot about "Be Gretchen." I've always felt that I've been pretty true to myself, that the image that I project is pretty authentic. But, "Be Gretchen" made me think about where I wasn't "Being Lisa." I have moments of "shoulding" all over myself. I "should" like this. I "should" not like that. I "should" be this and I "should" let go of that. Recently I gave away copies of all of Anne Rice's vampire books, plus, Violin, Pandora and one of the witches books. I had been carrying them around with me for about 17 years... including across the country - twice... and finally decided that I will NEVER read them. It's not my thing... and Anne Rice is not an author that appeals to me... and that's simply ok. I may never watch another movie that was made before 1970. I'm sure there are many that are brilliant... I just don't like them. I can't get inspired to watch "old" movies. And, that's ok. I'm starting to realize that it's perfectly acceptable that I have preferences and that doesn't make me close-minded, shallow or in any way limited. It's simply me... and it's okay to Be Lisa.

a mug I'd painted as a little reminder

Strange Life

I drove home tonight to the start of large snowflakes falling from the sky. Everything was so quiet and peaceful. The flakes were highlighted in the street lights and I thought about loss and how short life is.

Today I let go of someone I love. Tonight I may have saved a patient.

"M" was found in the bathroom unresponsive, purple, with copious amounts of mucus coming from her mouth. She was unresponsive to everything except painful stimuli. "M" has a DNR in place so I took her vital signs (78/42, 94.6, 61, 11, 53% on RA) and determined that she was not likely to make it and that we should begin comfort care. I had the CNA's put her in bed, change her shirt and raise the head of the bed. I asked them to reapply her O2 but to increase it to 4L. After calling the family and advising them of the situation, I went back to check on "M." Though still mostly unresponsive, "M" was able to respond to her name and though she couldn't yet speak, her vital signs were slowly improving. Her blood sugar was high but that was likely do to the stimulation of the sympathetic nervous system and compensation. By the time I left my shift, her vital signs were normal and she was fully responsive. When asked what she remembered she said that she remembered feeling "murky" but had no memory of getting out of bed and attempting to get to the bathroom.

I am lying in bed, watching the snow fall and thinking about how strange life can be... of how I lost someone and saved someone in the same day. I grieve and celebrate with the same breath. I cry tears of sadness and tears of joy.

I am grateful for what I have and yet long for so much more.

Valentine's Day

Ahhh... Valentine's Day - the evil nemesis of most single women. That day that reminds you once a year that YOU ARE ALONE!! The social reminder that you are unloved and perhaps... just maybe, unlovable! Heaven forbid!

I am one of those souls that has never... not once... not in the 39 years of her life, had a date on Valentine's Day.

My twenties were the worst... that longing for someone who thought I was special on that one day. Who thought enough to make a special effort for me. Ahhh... how I longed for that... And, of course, that was the period when many of my friends were beginning to couple up and some were starting to have children. It all combined to enhance the absolute loneliness that I spent the majority of my twenties feeling. And it helped me develop a special sort of cynicism towards all things Valentine's. The commercials were the worst to me... those awful prove-your-love-by-purchasing-expensive-jewelry ones that guilt men into spending more money then they likely should. Plus, it perpetuates the idea that women only value a man for money and what they can give them, which is such a false (at least to amazing, healthy women who value more than the next pay raise) stereotype. GAH!! But, that's a whole other gender dynamic post. 

My thirties were easier. I had amassed a collection of friends who were thirty-something and mostly single. We would all celebrate in a large 10-12 person group (single and coupled-alike), celebrating our platonic love for each other by eating an expensive meal at a nice steak house. It was always fun to make a reservation for... 12. So entirely unexpected and it felt wonderful thinking about how they were going to find a spot for us amongst the two-tops. It was healing on my ravaged self-esteem. Even though I wasn't going to make love to one of them by candle light later that evening, they all thought I was special enough to spend the evening with. And we laughed and celebrated love in the broadest sense of the word. Diversity... such an amazingly, wonderful reality.

I thought I had made peace with February 14th. Perhaps not so much...

As previously mentioned, I'm working on starting my own Happiness Project. I had toyed briefly with trying to get my act together enough to start in February and my initial thought was that I'd make it the month of "Be Loving." I would focus on the positive of people, gather everyone's birthday to begin my year (and hopefully beyond) of acknowledging birthdays, give more compliments and send a Valentine's Day card to many of my friends. Well, starting this February was a bit too ambitious but I still wanted to let those I care about and that I don't always have regular contact with know that I was thinking about them and sending them love. Off to the store I trot... gather up pretty cards and pink and red note cards. I pull out my little heart hole punch and set to work. I had a grand time thinking about my friends opening their mail box to discover a Valentine's card sent just for them! It made me smile and feel happy... just the thought. I mean, really, when was the last time you received a Valentine's Day card... elementary school?? And that may have been only because Little Billy's mom made him fill out a card for everyone in the class. So, I imagined how I would feel if I opened my own box to the tangible knowledge that someone cared enough of me to actually go buy a stamp and put something in writing and deliver it to antiquated but reliable USPS, instead of simply sending an email or posting a general "Happy Valentine's Day" on Facebook.

Today I dropped off 68 cards in the mail... two of which will be traveling overseas and won't make it in time... but will be a late surprise. And it occurred to me... this is going to be another year where I spend Valentine's Day without the absolute knowledge that I'm loved by someone special who thinks I'm equally special. It made me tired. I wondered when... and will... it ever happen for me. Oh... don't get me wrong.. I KNOW that I have a large and fantastic group of friends that are sending me lovely thoughts 365 days a year. But, let's be honest here... it's simply not the same. It's just not. And I am so, so tired of being alone.