Song Du Jour:
Pachelbel | Canon in D

12 August 2014

Un-Ringed Finger

“For there to be betrayal, there would have to have been trust first.” ~ Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games
I had a habit of rubbing my thumb against it and adjusting it to sit perfectly around my finger.  It was always a little big on me, but I didn't mind it because its looseness was a reminder to me that it was on my finger.  I looked at it frequently, and was proud of what it symbolized: I belonged to him, and he belonged to me.

I took it off last week, and have not put it back on.  I rub my thumb against the empty finger, and I feel the ridge of my finger where the ring once was.  The emptiness of that finger reminds me of what I have lost, and of what was never mine.

He dropped the bomb on me on a sunny Saturday summer morning:  He and she are expecting a baby, and it is a boy - a baby, a boy that I had prayed to conceive during all these months that I had been undergoing fertility treatments.  I was unable to conceive, and now my dream was going to become another woman's reality.

All I feel now is betrayed.  By him, by God, by everyone.  I put my trust out there, only to have it explode in my face and shatter my heart.

I am not sure that I will be able to recover.

09 June 2014

Year Forty-Three

“All I know is that I've wasted all these years looking for something, a sort of trophy I'd get only if I really, really did enough to deserve it. But I don't want it anymore, I want something else now, something warm and sheltering, something I can turn to, regardless of what I do, regardless of who I become. Something that will just be there, always, like tomorrow's sky. That's what I want now…" ~ Kazuo Ishiguro, When We Were Orphans

photo by N o v a

I turned forty-three this year.  As is customary on my birthday, there was not a lot of fanfare.  I didn't even have cake.  Instead, the days preceding my birthday, I spent at the clinic listening to the words of my fertility doctor telling me that no matter how young I still looked, and no matter how healthy my lifestyle is, the woman's reproductive system has no aesthetic look, and at my age, its function, is quite dramatically reduced.

Although there is nothing "wrong" with me, the fact is, I am forty-three, and to naturally conceive at my age is nearly a miracle, and even with the assistance of modern technology, the chances are still lower than twenty percent.  Quite grim odds.

I have never felt older.

And I have never felt more angry.  I am angry at having spent forty-three years of my life doing what I was told, trying to do the right thing, and putting others before myself.  Even in the farce of a marriage with the alcoholic loser, everything inside me told me to leave, but I stayed because it was the "right thing to do" -- I had to stay and "help" him with his issues, and in the meanwhile, I was losing pieces of myself in the process.  Always, I had put others before myself.  I always lived with the mantra that if I was good to the universe and to all people, the universe and the people would be good to me in return.

That has not yet been the case.

I am still waiting for a miracle and some sort of sign that the future will bring me all the happiness that I did not witness in my earlier years.  May year forty-three be my year.

19 May 2014


"Or you might shout at the top of your lungs or whisper into your sleeve, "I hate you, God." That is a prayer too, because it is real, it is truth, and maybe it is the first sincere thought you've had in months." ~ Anne Lamott, Help Thanks Wow: Three Essential Prayers
I grew up believing in God, in His power, His grace, and His mercy.  I grew up believing that through Him, anything was possible.  "Ask and you shall receive." 

I prayed to Him nightly.  I always counted on Him to be there for me when I was at the end of my rope.  And when things were good in my life, I thanked Him for all my blessings.

But tragedy struck my family.  My baby sister was diagnosed with cancer and in front of my eyes, she was dying.  I prayed fervently and vehemently for Him to cure her.  I figured that since I very rarely asked Him for anything, He could at least grant me my one wish to save my only sister's life.

Despite my prayers, and those of all who loved her, she died anyway, a painful and cruel death at the tender age of twenty-two.

I thought surely that after suffering the devastating loss of my sister, He would let me live a peaceful, happy life filled with love and stability.  Instead, it was His will that I should meet and marry the alcoholic loser to whom I would lose the prime years of my life, even though I prayed for the opposite.

Everything that I asked Him to grant me, He gave me the opposite.

Eventually, I simply stopped asking.  Why ask?  For surely He would give me the exact opposite of what I wanted.  But "God doesn't give you want you want, but He gives you what you need", right?  Really?  Did I need to have my sister die?  Did I need to endure the hell that I was living during the years after her death?

And now I am at another crossroads in my life.  I need Him --- the Him that I loved and believed in when I was a kid, the one who I knew was on my side and the one who would never forsake me.  But I don't trust Him anymore. How can I come to Him when I no longer trust that He will grant me the wishes of my heart?  How can I trust Him when deep down I fear that not only will He not give me what I want, but might instead give me the exact opposite?

Where do the forsaken go?