When I became a (very unexpected) widow, I wasn't really sure where to turn. My daddy passed away 5 years ago, but the circumstances were quite different. He was sick. Very, very sick. We didn't want to admit it to ourselves, but we all knew it was just a matter of time. We had the time to have conversations with him. Tell him how much we love him. Thank him for being the best daddy anyone can ask for. My brother and I were also adults. We were devastated, but we had time to prepare ourselves mentally. I didn't have this "luxury". I was married to a man that barely ever got a cold. I would always be walking around with the latest virus, and he had the most amazing immune system. He never called in sick from work. I was POSITIVE he would definitely out live me. I was the one with the chronic back problems, asthma, etc.
When Rick left for work on April 1st, he mentioned that he wouldn't be calling me like he usually did on his lunch break because he was having a goodbye business luncheon for a co-worker that was moving on to another company. He would call me as he was leaving work. Okay. Have a fun lunch. So when I saw his cell phone number on the caller ID during his lunchtime, I figured he snuck away to check up on Lucas and I. Boy, was I wrong. He sounded a little off, but not terribly so. He told me that he wasn't feeling well, and his boss was taking him to urgent care. I thought to myself "this man is finally getting a cold". Oh how I wish. I will go into the entire phone call that will haunt me for the rest of my life at another time. Let's just say, by the end of the call, he told me he was scared, and that "you better come". I started heading to the Chanhassen urgent care where he told me he was going to be, only to end up speaking to his boss who told me he was being rushed to HCMC. Never in my worst nightmares could I possibly imagine that before I even made it into Minneapolis, he was brain dead. This couldn't be happening to me. Not to me. Not to Lucas. Not to us. NO. But, here it was. Happening to me. Happening to Lucas. Happening to us. I felt like I literally got run over by a Mack truck. I didn't get to say goodbye. I didn't get to thank him for making my life SO very happy. I didn't get to tell him what a wonderful daddy he was. I didn't get to tell him how much I loved him. I told him anyway. I stood over the man that I dreamed of marrying when I was a little girl, and knowing that he was brain dead and in a coma, I told him everything. I hope somehow, someway he heard me. I was numb. I couldn't feel any part of my body. I waited so long for him. How could God do this to me!
Getting back on topic, I found myself staring at my ceiling at 3:00 in the morning a few nights after Rick died. Who can understand the ugly things going through my mind? I grabbed the IPad and googled "young widows". I was shocked. There were so many online support groups and websites. Oh.My.God. How many people are going through this pain. As it turns out, the answer to that is way too many. Even one would be too many but from what I saw, it's in the hundreds of thousands. The young widowed community are fiercely loyal to each other, always there for each other. Mostly though, we are clinging to each other like we are each a miniature life boat. I've blogged about these amazing women, so I won't go into detail again, but you get to know certain widdas (as we like to be called, because widow is far too painful) better than others, and you become their friends on Facebook. I am proud to call many widdas my friend. Yesterday, one of my Facebook widdas posted something that made my heart skip a beat. A very simple post. Some widdas have taken on the "positive" role of we can get through this! (happy face, hugs, heart, blah, blah) Some have really cried out for help big time (Why am I still alive, I don't want to go on....) but most are somewhere in between. I love them all. After all, as I learned, grief is very different for each person. There is no wrong way to grieve, there is no right way to grieve. What I try to do. is be there in whatever capacity an individual widda needs me in. I laugh with some, I cry with some. My emotions are a literal rollercoaster. I will tell you one thing, we ALL develop a very warped sense of humor. Sometimes it's about death. It makes "outsiders" very uncomfortable. I for one own and WEAR a tee-shirt that in very beautiful cursive, plainly says death sucks. My brother asks me if I really have to wear that in public. I laugh, and tell him to stop being so damn embarrased of me, but I always embarrass him, so what the hell, right??
Back to this very simple Facebook post. This is what she wrote (though I don't remember the exact wording).
Hey Hun,
We're out of milk, and I'm so tired.
Can you stop at the store and pick some up?
Oh.Yeah.Right.
Most of you reading this are going to say huh? This is what made your heart skip a beat, and tears pour out of your eyes??
Yes. In four small lines of text, she has summed up our lives. We are alone. We no longer have our other half to run to the store, to help with the chores, to be a parent to our children. How many times have I called Rick at work to ask him to run to Costco on his way home. Taking it for granted that I didn't have to drag the baby from home to car to store to car to home. How many times since he passed away have I almost picked up the phone to call him to tell him something and then realized.......
Oh.Yeah.Right.
Rest well baby doll. I love you for eternity.
My Beautiful family
My beautiful family is no longer complete......
Saturday, January 7, 2012
Friday, January 6, 2012
Forging on.........
Hi all. It's been a long time since my last blog post. I foolishly allowed somebody to silence my voice. As I grow a teensy bit stronger day by day ( and fortified with Zoloft) I realize just how wrong it was for said person to want to silence me, and how wrong it was that I let it happen.
You see, a friend of a "friend" didn't care for one of my posts and publicly called me a bitch on Facebook. This person then "dared" me to write a blog and use their name in it. I won't give them that satisfaction. Let's just say that this person owns a business and probably wanted some advertising. Said person also believes in "happily ever afters" and should have been a little sensitive to my situation. A bitch. I was highly offended, but what is a bitch anyway? A female dog? This is what I got offended about? After all, I don't know this person. Sadly, they are polluting the state that I used to call home with their presence. The positive of this being they.Don't.Live.Here.
I will never be silenced again.
I started this blog to help others as much as to help myself. This blog is part of my heart, and my son's legacy. It is part love story, part fairytale, part tragedy, part humor. It is frank and honest. It is NOT a happy ending as much as I wanted it to be. The words come from my soul. Who would want to silence that?
So I'm forging on. I will add a small disclaimer.
*This blog will never mention anybody by name unless I have their full approval. If you want to assume that I am speaking about you, that is your assumption. Chances are, I'm not. Even if I am, nobody will know unless you freak out and start telling people. I am an adult, and if any of my readers have a problem with what I write, you can come directly to me with your issue. Do not pass go, do not collect $200, and certainly do NOT have your friends do your dirty work for you. After what I've been through, that's laughable. I never have, and never will intentionally hurt anybody. I'm sorry if you do get hurt. I've been so hurt, and it's not a good feeling. If I do hurt you, I'm terribly sorry. Please see above sentence about approaching me.
End of disclaimer.
It has been 9 months since the love of my life went to heaven. Something that should have never happened at the age of 40. Not to me. Especially not to Lucas. Lucas's therapists are teaching him to label pictures. I gave them a picture of Rick. Every time they show him the picture and say "dad" my heart tears a little more. Dad shouldn't be a picture. Dad should be the love of my life, walking in the door after work. Throwing Lucas up in the air. I should be hearing fits of laughter coming from both of them while I set the table for us. This is what life should have been. This is what life is not. Dad is a picture. My heart aches for what we lost.
As unbearable as it seems to me, I'm forging on.
Rest well baby doll. I love you.
You see, a friend of a "friend" didn't care for one of my posts and publicly called me a bitch on Facebook. This person then "dared" me to write a blog and use their name in it. I won't give them that satisfaction. Let's just say that this person owns a business and probably wanted some advertising. Said person also believes in "happily ever afters" and should have been a little sensitive to my situation. A bitch. I was highly offended, but what is a bitch anyway? A female dog? This is what I got offended about? After all, I don't know this person. Sadly, they are polluting the state that I used to call home with their presence. The positive of this being they.Don't.Live.Here.
I will never be silenced again.
I started this blog to help others as much as to help myself. This blog is part of my heart, and my son's legacy. It is part love story, part fairytale, part tragedy, part humor. It is frank and honest. It is NOT a happy ending as much as I wanted it to be. The words come from my soul. Who would want to silence that?
So I'm forging on. I will add a small disclaimer.
*This blog will never mention anybody by name unless I have their full approval. If you want to assume that I am speaking about you, that is your assumption. Chances are, I'm not. Even if I am, nobody will know unless you freak out and start telling people. I am an adult, and if any of my readers have a problem with what I write, you can come directly to me with your issue. Do not pass go, do not collect $200, and certainly do NOT have your friends do your dirty work for you. After what I've been through, that's laughable. I never have, and never will intentionally hurt anybody. I'm sorry if you do get hurt. I've been so hurt, and it's not a good feeling. If I do hurt you, I'm terribly sorry. Please see above sentence about approaching me.
End of disclaimer.
It has been 9 months since the love of my life went to heaven. Something that should have never happened at the age of 40. Not to me. Especially not to Lucas. Lucas's therapists are teaching him to label pictures. I gave them a picture of Rick. Every time they show him the picture and say "dad" my heart tears a little more. Dad shouldn't be a picture. Dad should be the love of my life, walking in the door after work. Throwing Lucas up in the air. I should be hearing fits of laughter coming from both of them while I set the table for us. This is what life should have been. This is what life is not. Dad is a picture. My heart aches for what we lost.
As unbearable as it seems to me, I'm forging on.
Rest well baby doll. I love you.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) can happen in the winter or the summer.
Seasonal Affective Disorder, known as SAD. How appropriate an acronym for a disorder that, well, makes you sad. It's a little known disorder that makes you depressed when the seasons change. In Minnesota, it affects people as winter roars it's inevitable roar. Our winters are long. Colder than most. It's dark most of the morning and very early in the evening.
Rick suffered from SAD. We didn't really talk about it with others, because it was mild. Some people become severely depressed. Rick just got a little moody. Some doctors and scientists blame it on a vitamin D deficiency. There are even "Happy Lamps" that throw off artificial sunlight. When you absorb the sun, it turns to vitamin D in your body. This is why people always have a glow about them when they are tan. So what do you do? Absorb that sunlight, or worry about Melanoma? I have changed my philosophy on health. Do what you want. When it's your time, it's your time. Of course you can take steps to feel better about yourself, as I am doing now by dieting, but do I believe it will help me live a longer life? No, not anymore.
I would give Rick extra attention in the late fall thru the early spring. He was always just kind of blah. I broke out the wittiest parts of me. Asked my mom to babysit a bit more so we can have a couple of extra date nights. Gave him a lot of love and a ridiculous amount of kisses. I never understood it because I didn't have it. Yes, winter most definitely does suck, but unless we are living in the south, it's not changing. I hate winter, but it never made me sad. This winter was an especially hard one for Rick. It was extremely long and unseasonably cold and snowy. When Rick would come home from work, even though I could see the sadness on his face, he would always seem so happy. He LOVED being with Lucas and I. He used to say that we were his safe haven.
I didn't understand then. All of the winters, all of the sadness. He would look out and say "April is right around the corner"! even if we were in November. This year, he was especially excited for April to come. "It's been such a LONG winter, come on April"! On April 1st, he was excited to play an April fools joke on his boss, but way more than that, he was so excited that it was April. Little did I know that he wouldn't even make it through half a day. That he would go to a business luncheon and get dizzy. That I would get a phone call telling me to "hurry, it's really bad" from his boss. That he would pass away two days later. He never got to see April this year. The month he was waiting for. The start of spring.
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I now understand, because I now have SAD. I can't handle that he never got to see the spring and summer of this year or any year ever again. I can't handle the happy, tan, glowing people, I can't handle the flowers or the grass or anything summery. Spring and summer will never be fun to me again. I get to see it as long as it's God's will. Rick doesn't get to spend it with me. We never get to go to Irish fest or Rib fest or Uptown art fair or Farmers market or Minnesota state fair ever again. The love of my life never got to see summer this year. I cant wait until October. The spring and summer suck. They are too long with too many happy people.
I know that Rick is enjoying summer all the time in heaven now. Not too hot, not too cold, Just perfect. The way he was for me. The way I hope I was for him.
Positive of the day: Once again, I hear the therapists cheering Lucas on in Therapy. Once again, I lived to see another day.
Rick suffered from SAD. We didn't really talk about it with others, because it was mild. Some people become severely depressed. Rick just got a little moody. Some doctors and scientists blame it on a vitamin D deficiency. There are even "Happy Lamps" that throw off artificial sunlight. When you absorb the sun, it turns to vitamin D in your body. This is why people always have a glow about them when they are tan. So what do you do? Absorb that sunlight, or worry about Melanoma? I have changed my philosophy on health. Do what you want. When it's your time, it's your time. Of course you can take steps to feel better about yourself, as I am doing now by dieting, but do I believe it will help me live a longer life? No, not anymore.
I would give Rick extra attention in the late fall thru the early spring. He was always just kind of blah. I broke out the wittiest parts of me. Asked my mom to babysit a bit more so we can have a couple of extra date nights. Gave him a lot of love and a ridiculous amount of kisses. I never understood it because I didn't have it. Yes, winter most definitely does suck, but unless we are living in the south, it's not changing. I hate winter, but it never made me sad. This winter was an especially hard one for Rick. It was extremely long and unseasonably cold and snowy. When Rick would come home from work, even though I could see the sadness on his face, he would always seem so happy. He LOVED being with Lucas and I. He used to say that we were his safe haven.
I didn't understand then. All of the winters, all of the sadness. He would look out and say "April is right around the corner"! even if we were in November. This year, he was especially excited for April to come. "It's been such a LONG winter, come on April"! On April 1st, he was excited to play an April fools joke on his boss, but way more than that, he was so excited that it was April. Little did I know that he wouldn't even make it through half a day. That he would go to a business luncheon and get dizzy. That I would get a phone call telling me to "hurry, it's really bad" from his boss. That he would pass away two days later. He never got to see April this year. The month he was waiting for. The start of spring.
I know that Rick is enjoying summer all the time in heaven now. Not too hot, not too cold, Just perfect. The way he was for me. The way I hope I was for him.
Positive of the day: Once again, I hear the therapists cheering Lucas on in Therapy. Once again, I lived to see another day.
Monday, July 18, 2011
The plans we had and how they were once happy dreams, now they are nightmares.
My very favorite movie, Pretty Woman (I know, I know), starts off and ends something like this......, Welcome to Hollywood! Whats your dream? Everybody comes here. This is Hollywood, land of dreams. Some dreams come true, some don't; but keep on dreamin'. This is Hollywood. Always time to dream, so keep on dreamin. Okay; yes, the man was a homeless man talking to himself. The very type of person that we would normally avoid. Maybe chuckle. Ha ha! He's talking to himself. I never really gave him much thought. He didn't add too much to the movie. Or did he?? Isn't the entire movie about dreams coming true? Doesn't "Prince" Edward rescue "Princess" Vivian at the end? I've been thinking about the homeless man from the movie quite often lately.
This was a very emotional weekend for me. Yesterday started the Smart family vacation. Right now, Rick's family is living it up at a luxury resort in Brainard for a week. I am not with them. I am home. Lucas is in therapy as we speak. It's not that I didn't want Lucas to be with his cousins. I did. It's not that I wasn't willing to pull him out of a week of therapy that he so desperately needs. I was. I was really hoping that, by giving up mine, Rick & Lucas's cabin, that the family would give me the money that they got back for the cabin towards Rick's headstone. They wouldn't, and they didn't. Poof! There went another dream I had right down the toilet. The dream of Rick's family still caring about us after Rick died. When I questioned some of his family members motives, one relative actually said (I kept the Facebook message, because I couldn't believe it myself), "What would Rick rather have? A week of our family loving each other, or a ROCK OVER HIS DEAD BODY?". The relative did not cap lock those words. I did. It might as well have been a knife in my heart. I'm not hurt for myself. Even though I really considered them family, I really am not hurt for myself. I'm devastated for Lucas. He got written off because his mommy dared to ask for financial help for a headstone. I need to let you know that NOT everybody wrote me off. I have a few members of Rick's family who do not think I am a horrible human being. Thank God. I need somebody to be able to tell Lucas stories of his daddy when he was a kid. I met him when he was 35, so it can't be me. I'm very thankful for the one family and one aunt who decided not to "show me" by unfriending me on Facebook.
Rick was a dreamer. Great while you're alive, Horrendous after you pass away. Let me tell you why. We had thousands of dreams. They ranged from one day we will paint the living room to one day we will go on vacation to Vietnam. He wanted to move to Florida very badly. I thought it was funny, I always wanted to move to Florida, but never told him that. He desperately wanted to see Europe, and was a little envious of how much I had seen. Okay, we will go on a grand European tour one day. He wanted to finish the basement SO BADLY. He had a theme picked out for the basement. Since he gave me free reign to decorate the house the way I wanted, I felt he should have free reign to decorate the basement. He didn't want to make it into a "man cave". He wanted to do a log cabin theme. Log paneling....the works. He said Lucas would love it as he got older. He was never thinking about himself. Always thinking about us. So many dreams, little did we know, so little time. We never had the money, so the dreams got pushed to the side. Even the necessary ones like a fence for Lucas, a minivan or larger SUV so my back (which I have been trying to avoid surgery on for years) would hurt so bad when I got Lucas into his car seat. Everything had to be pushed aside.
We accomplished some of our dreams. Rick painstakingly did half the landscaping, a few rooms got painted. We built a deck. I bought Rick a dream grill out of my savings that I stashed away when I knew I would be leaving Frontier. My problem lies in the thousands of dreams that we couldn't make happen. I have guilt for every one of them. Tears for every one of them. I got a travel book in the mail the other day. Addressed to Rick Smart of course. The first vacation in the book was one to Vietnam. I balled my eyes out for 2 hours. It's odd. Rick was very practical, and I was the impractical one, but when it came to dreaming, that was where Rick became impractical, and I was the practical one. He used to come home now and then with a Powerball ticket, and rub it on Lucas. I can see it like it was yesterday. When we win Powerball..........The dreams torture me. If only I could have made a fence, a minivan, a finished basement, painted walls, a grand European vacation happen for the three of us; but I couldn't, and Rick worked so hard, but he couldn't. Now all that is left of my life is reminders of the dreams that we spend countless nights in bed talking about, the memory of the excited look on his face when he rubbed a Powerball ticket on Lucas, and a whole lot of dreams that never got answered. Let me through one more dream in the mix. I dream of it being 6:00 and Rick walking through the door. "Hi Baby Doll. Do you know how much I love you today? Where's my little boy?"
Welcome to Hollywood! Whats your dream? Everybody comes here. This is Hollywood, land of dreams. Some dreams come true, some don't; but keep on dreamin'. This is Hollywood. Always time to dream, so keep on dreamin'. Rest well Baby Doll. I love you and miss you so much.
Positive of the day: After a very hard weekend, I'm up and going through the motions. Lucas is also doing well in therapy today. I'm not living the dream, but I am living.
This was a very emotional weekend for me. Yesterday started the Smart family vacation. Right now, Rick's family is living it up at a luxury resort in Brainard for a week. I am not with them. I am home. Lucas is in therapy as we speak. It's not that I didn't want Lucas to be with his cousins. I did. It's not that I wasn't willing to pull him out of a week of therapy that he so desperately needs. I was. I was really hoping that, by giving up mine, Rick & Lucas's cabin, that the family would give me the money that they got back for the cabin towards Rick's headstone. They wouldn't, and they didn't. Poof! There went another dream I had right down the toilet. The dream of Rick's family still caring about us after Rick died. When I questioned some of his family members motives, one relative actually said (I kept the Facebook message, because I couldn't believe it myself), "What would Rick rather have? A week of our family loving each other, or a ROCK OVER HIS DEAD BODY?". The relative did not cap lock those words. I did. It might as well have been a knife in my heart. I'm not hurt for myself. Even though I really considered them family, I really am not hurt for myself. I'm devastated for Lucas. He got written off because his mommy dared to ask for financial help for a headstone. I need to let you know that NOT everybody wrote me off. I have a few members of Rick's family who do not think I am a horrible human being. Thank God. I need somebody to be able to tell Lucas stories of his daddy when he was a kid. I met him when he was 35, so it can't be me. I'm very thankful for the one family and one aunt who decided not to "show me" by unfriending me on Facebook.
Rick was a dreamer. Great while you're alive, Horrendous after you pass away. Let me tell you why. We had thousands of dreams. They ranged from one day we will paint the living room to one day we will go on vacation to Vietnam. He wanted to move to Florida very badly. I thought it was funny, I always wanted to move to Florida, but never told him that. He desperately wanted to see Europe, and was a little envious of how much I had seen. Okay, we will go on a grand European tour one day. He wanted to finish the basement SO BADLY. He had a theme picked out for the basement. Since he gave me free reign to decorate the house the way I wanted, I felt he should have free reign to decorate the basement. He didn't want to make it into a "man cave". He wanted to do a log cabin theme. Log paneling....the works. He said Lucas would love it as he got older. He was never thinking about himself. Always thinking about us. So many dreams, little did we know, so little time. We never had the money, so the dreams got pushed to the side. Even the necessary ones like a fence for Lucas, a minivan or larger SUV so my back (which I have been trying to avoid surgery on for years) would hurt so bad when I got Lucas into his car seat. Everything had to be pushed aside.
We accomplished some of our dreams. Rick painstakingly did half the landscaping, a few rooms got painted. We built a deck. I bought Rick a dream grill out of my savings that I stashed away when I knew I would be leaving Frontier. My problem lies in the thousands of dreams that we couldn't make happen. I have guilt for every one of them. Tears for every one of them. I got a travel book in the mail the other day. Addressed to Rick Smart of course. The first vacation in the book was one to Vietnam. I balled my eyes out for 2 hours. It's odd. Rick was very practical, and I was the impractical one, but when it came to dreaming, that was where Rick became impractical, and I was the practical one. He used to come home now and then with a Powerball ticket, and rub it on Lucas. I can see it like it was yesterday. When we win Powerball..........The dreams torture me. If only I could have made a fence, a minivan, a finished basement, painted walls, a grand European vacation happen for the three of us; but I couldn't, and Rick worked so hard, but he couldn't. Now all that is left of my life is reminders of the dreams that we spend countless nights in bed talking about, the memory of the excited look on his face when he rubbed a Powerball ticket on Lucas, and a whole lot of dreams that never got answered. Let me through one more dream in the mix. I dream of it being 6:00 and Rick walking through the door. "Hi Baby Doll. Do you know how much I love you today? Where's my little boy?"
Welcome to Hollywood! Whats your dream? Everybody comes here. This is Hollywood, land of dreams. Some dreams come true, some don't; but keep on dreamin'. This is Hollywood. Always time to dream, so keep on dreamin'. Rest well Baby Doll. I love you and miss you so much.
Positive of the day: After a very hard weekend, I'm up and going through the motions. Lucas is also doing well in therapy today. I'm not living the dream, but I am living.
Friday, July 15, 2011
The day I was a man (boy was I scared!)
So, upon sending Rick a wink on March 9, 2006, We started e-mailing. He gave me a TON of crap for being a Yankee's fan. I gave him a TON of crap for being an accountant. We exchanged cute, funny and flirty e-mails for a long time. At least three weeks. He kept telling me to call him, but I kept sending him my number. I really didn't, and still don't feel that the girl should make the first telephone call. It's nerve wracking stuff people!
Rick had my work e-mail address, and he would send me silly things to work (shhhh! Don't tell anyone at Frontier, my Frontier friends ;) ) He would write things like "what are you wearing"? I would crazy things back like "Pajamas and bunny slippers". We would laugh through email. Don't forget, I had a my brother's wedding coming up. I was short on time. Rick kept asking me out, and I kept putting him off. He still didn't call me though. I guess men are just as scared as women when it comes to these things.
Soon, he emailed me that he was leaving for Vegas the next week. He was going by himself. Being single, Rick did a lot of things by himself. He was also an extremely independant person. I couldn't fathom doing anything like going to a restaurant by myself, never mind going on vacation by myself. The horror! He told me, that he never let being single stop him from doing anything he wanted to do. He would even take himself out to eat on Valentine's day. Wow! What a brave soul! I would never!!! Anyway, he promised me that he would call me from Las Vegas (for the first time, remember!) and when he called me, it would be from in front of the Bellagio fountains. I thought that was cute, and kind of romantic. That is until I never heard from him. I certainly didn't blame him. He was on vacation. Why would he want to speak to me? Then again, why would he say he was going to call if he had no intentions of doing so? Weird!
When Rick got home from Las Vegas, he sent me an email saying he was home. It had a hurt tone to it. I asked him if everything was okay, and he replied "do you really want to go out with me?". "Of course I do"! I told him. "After the wedding". Which was the end of March. He then asked me why I didn't give him the right phone number. "Are you playing games with me"? I was horrified. "What phone number do you have"? When he read off the phone number, the last number was wrong. He programmed the wrong phone number into his cell phone. I don't know if he heard me wrong, or if it was just a mistake, but he DID try to call me. He just got a "this number is disconnected" message instead.
After the phone number debacle was cleared up, we started texting. This is where, my friends, I became a man. For a few days, he was texting me basic things. Asking how my day is going, telling me how bored he was at work. Usual stuff. Then this horrible flu hit me. I have absolutely no immunity to anything. Whatever goes around, I end up with it. I was SO sick. I was burning up and freezing. I hurt so bad, that I couldn't even get out of bed. I was out of work for a week. So not like me. Anybody who knows me knows that I saved every day off to travel. NOT to be laying in bed. I had the horrible chest cold, and no voice whatsoever.
I texted Rick, and i told him not to email me at work. That I was sick. He was very concerned. He wanted to come from Minneapolis-keep in mind that we still had never met-to bring me soup and ice cream. "Are you insane!?" " I wouldn't come within 10 miles of my house if I were you"! He told me that he never gets sick, and that he really wants to help me feel better. I looked like I felt. Not exactly the first impression that you want to make on a future possible boyfriend. I told him that I would be okay. That I had my parents to pick me up anything I needed. There was still no phone call. It was all text. I didn't want to let on how exhausting the texting was for me, and how I wanted it to stop, but somehow, everytime I got another text, I felt like a giddy school girl.
This brings us to the point where I unintentionally turned into a man. Every day of that week that I was home, I was bedridden, so what else is there to do but watch TV? The first day that I was home, Rick texted me. "What are you doing"? he wanted to know. I had to stop myself from answering that I was running a marathon. I'm very sarcastic, and I didn't know him well enough yet to bring on the full force sarcasm. "I'm watching Days Of Our Lives". I replied. He asked me if I usually watch soap operas. I told him that I used to watch Days many years ago, but I had stopped because it had gotten so stupid. 5 years later, I picked up on the stories like it was just yesterday. He told me that his grandmother used to watch soap operas. She called them "my stories". He asked me what was going on with the show. Being cute, I decided I was going to create my own story line with me being Blanche and Rick being Robert. It was a very dramatic story line. I don't remember the specifics, but Blanche had just had a baby, and Robert thought it was his but it wasn't. Etc..... Everyday at 12:00 or so, Rick would text me to find out what was going on with "Blanche and Robert" I think it was Wednesday or Thursday when I texted back that Robert just found out that Blanche was really a man. I thought I was being hilariously funny. Especially for being sick and cloudy headed. I never heard back from him. That was strange. Usually the second I texted him, he would text me back. A few hours passed by and I asked him if he was okay. Still nothing. Weird! Around 5:00 or so, I got a text asking me if I was serious. "Serious about what"?? He asked "about being a man"? I was really confused. What in the world was he talking about? I answered him with "well Blanche is seriously a man, I seriously am not". He wrote "Oh, Thank God! I was really scared"! Of what? Did he really think I was a man?
I told him that I was still confused. He then explained everything he had been through on Match.com. He said that the experience is way different for women than it is for men. He had girls from Russia sending him messages that they were in love with him from his profile, and if he would send them a plane ticket, they would come to see him. He also had trans-gender people winking at him and writing to him. Rick was as liberal as it got. He had no problem with any "type" of people. He really loved everybody. But he was not interested in dating a man or a trans-gender person. He thought that my little story about Blanche and Robert was my sly way of telling him that I was a man!!!! OMG! As sick as I was, I was hysterical laughing. He thought I was a man! I was trying to be cute and funny, and he thought I was telling him that I was a man! Ha Ha!!! He wasn't as amused. He was embarrased. He said that he didn't know what to think. He's been talking to me by email and text for over a month, I keep putting off his dates, and I haven't called him. Hee hee.....a man! I first reminded him that he was supposed to call me, he's the dummy that put the wrong number in his phone and I am most definately NOT a man. At least the last time I checked anyway.
I was sure this would finally get him to call ;) Stay tuned for the story of our first phone call.
Love,
Blanche
P.S. My positive of the day is that it is raining really hard here. My grass and flowers need it desperately!
Rick had my work e-mail address, and he would send me silly things to work (shhhh! Don't tell anyone at Frontier, my Frontier friends ;) ) He would write things like "what are you wearing"? I would crazy things back like "Pajamas and bunny slippers". We would laugh through email. Don't forget, I had a my brother's wedding coming up. I was short on time. Rick kept asking me out, and I kept putting him off. He still didn't call me though. I guess men are just as scared as women when it comes to these things.
Soon, he emailed me that he was leaving for Vegas the next week. He was going by himself. Being single, Rick did a lot of things by himself. He was also an extremely independant person. I couldn't fathom doing anything like going to a restaurant by myself, never mind going on vacation by myself. The horror! He told me, that he never let being single stop him from doing anything he wanted to do. He would even take himself out to eat on Valentine's day. Wow! What a brave soul! I would never!!! Anyway, he promised me that he would call me from Las Vegas (for the first time, remember!) and when he called me, it would be from in front of the Bellagio fountains. I thought that was cute, and kind of romantic. That is until I never heard from him. I certainly didn't blame him. He was on vacation. Why would he want to speak to me? Then again, why would he say he was going to call if he had no intentions of doing so? Weird!
When Rick got home from Las Vegas, he sent me an email saying he was home. It had a hurt tone to it. I asked him if everything was okay, and he replied "do you really want to go out with me?". "Of course I do"! I told him. "After the wedding". Which was the end of March. He then asked me why I didn't give him the right phone number. "Are you playing games with me"? I was horrified. "What phone number do you have"? When he read off the phone number, the last number was wrong. He programmed the wrong phone number into his cell phone. I don't know if he heard me wrong, or if it was just a mistake, but he DID try to call me. He just got a "this number is disconnected" message instead.
After the phone number debacle was cleared up, we started texting. This is where, my friends, I became a man. For a few days, he was texting me basic things. Asking how my day is going, telling me how bored he was at work. Usual stuff. Then this horrible flu hit me. I have absolutely no immunity to anything. Whatever goes around, I end up with it. I was SO sick. I was burning up and freezing. I hurt so bad, that I couldn't even get out of bed. I was out of work for a week. So not like me. Anybody who knows me knows that I saved every day off to travel. NOT to be laying in bed. I had the horrible chest cold, and no voice whatsoever.
I texted Rick, and i told him not to email me at work. That I was sick. He was very concerned. He wanted to come from Minneapolis-keep in mind that we still had never met-to bring me soup and ice cream. "Are you insane!?" " I wouldn't come within 10 miles of my house if I were you"! He told me that he never gets sick, and that he really wants to help me feel better. I looked like I felt. Not exactly the first impression that you want to make on a future possible boyfriend. I told him that I would be okay. That I had my parents to pick me up anything I needed. There was still no phone call. It was all text. I didn't want to let on how exhausting the texting was for me, and how I wanted it to stop, but somehow, everytime I got another text, I felt like a giddy school girl.
This brings us to the point where I unintentionally turned into a man. Every day of that week that I was home, I was bedridden, so what else is there to do but watch TV? The first day that I was home, Rick texted me. "What are you doing"? he wanted to know. I had to stop myself from answering that I was running a marathon. I'm very sarcastic, and I didn't know him well enough yet to bring on the full force sarcasm. "I'm watching Days Of Our Lives". I replied. He asked me if I usually watch soap operas. I told him that I used to watch Days many years ago, but I had stopped because it had gotten so stupid. 5 years later, I picked up on the stories like it was just yesterday. He told me that his grandmother used to watch soap operas. She called them "my stories". He asked me what was going on with the show. Being cute, I decided I was going to create my own story line with me being Blanche and Rick being Robert. It was a very dramatic story line. I don't remember the specifics, but Blanche had just had a baby, and Robert thought it was his but it wasn't. Etc..... Everyday at 12:00 or so, Rick would text me to find out what was going on with "Blanche and Robert" I think it was Wednesday or Thursday when I texted back that Robert just found out that Blanche was really a man. I thought I was being hilariously funny. Especially for being sick and cloudy headed. I never heard back from him. That was strange. Usually the second I texted him, he would text me back. A few hours passed by and I asked him if he was okay. Still nothing. Weird! Around 5:00 or so, I got a text asking me if I was serious. "Serious about what"?? He asked "about being a man"? I was really confused. What in the world was he talking about? I answered him with "well Blanche is seriously a man, I seriously am not". He wrote "Oh, Thank God! I was really scared"! Of what? Did he really think I was a man?
I told him that I was still confused. He then explained everything he had been through on Match.com. He said that the experience is way different for women than it is for men. He had girls from Russia sending him messages that they were in love with him from his profile, and if he would send them a plane ticket, they would come to see him. He also had trans-gender people winking at him and writing to him. Rick was as liberal as it got. He had no problem with any "type" of people. He really loved everybody. But he was not interested in dating a man or a trans-gender person. He thought that my little story about Blanche and Robert was my sly way of telling him that I was a man!!!! OMG! As sick as I was, I was hysterical laughing. He thought I was a man! I was trying to be cute and funny, and he thought I was telling him that I was a man! Ha Ha!!! He wasn't as amused. He was embarrased. He said that he didn't know what to think. He's been talking to me by email and text for over a month, I keep putting off his dates, and I haven't called him. Hee hee.....a man! I first reminded him that he was supposed to call me, he's the dummy that put the wrong number in his phone and I am most definately NOT a man. At least the last time I checked anyway.
I was sure this would finally get him to call ;) Stay tuned for the story of our first phone call.
Love,
Blanche
P.S. My positive of the day is that it is raining really hard here. My grass and flowers need it desperately!
Thursday, July 14, 2011
God created the earth, the heavens, Match.com and some interesting men....
So by now, everybody knows that Rick and I met on Match.com. I can never thank them enough for putting the two of us together. Of course, I really know that it was fate, but Match helped fate out.
My brother met his wife on a dating site. My mom thought it would be a great idea for me. I resisted with every ounce of my being. I don't want to be on a dating site! My mom told me that things aren't like they used to be. "Where are you going to meet somebody? At a bar?" I don't know mom. Maybe a Sock hop? Maybe things are the same as they "used to be"? I just don't know. "Alright"! "I'll try it".
The first dating site my mom suggested was JDate. This is a Jewish website. This is also the website that my brother met his wife on. I told my mom it would be a waste of time and money. While there are a LOT of Jewish guys in Brooklyn, there are barely any in Minnesota. She told me to try it. Okay, I did. I met this guy right away. He had converted to Judaism. I dated him for a while. He was boring, but he was nice. When we hired a limousine for my 30th birthday party, and it dropped us off at the restaurant in Minneapolis, but never picked us up, he actually walked home (thank God he lived in Minneapolis), and got his car and drove us all home. About 15 people. It was funny. Everybody was sitting on every body's laps. He was nice, like I said, but he bored me to tears. I also think I was a bigger personality than he was able to handle. Goodbye boyfriend #1 off the Internet. NEXT.......
As I predicted, nothing came of JDate. It was the same 5 guys. I had the guy who decided he loved me on our first date and when I made the mistake of getting into his car to go from the restaurant to the movies, tried to grope me over and over. Ick! Okay, moving on.....My mom really wanted me to be with somebody Jewish. Not because she doesn't like other religions. She just felt that it would be easier on the marriage, and easier on any children that should come from the marriage. I told her that if she really wanted me to be with somebody Jewish, she should not have moved me to Minnesota. Period. End of discussion.
The next website was Match.com. After all, you see the sentimental commercials with all the happy couples. They boast that they have the highest success rate. Yada, yada, yada. Okay, here we go....
There was the guy who was super nice, but after about ten dates, he told me he didn't know what to do with me. Huh? I was something that needed something to be done with?? What? He explained to me that he likes to date "damsels in distress". He likes to be the knight in shining armor that comes to a girls rescue. He told me that I didn't seem like a girl that needed rescuing. Ummm.... Okay. NEXT!
There was the guy who lived very close to me, which made me happy to not have to drive to the city. He seemed nice. He had a great job and a really nice house. The problem was, he wanted every second of my time. He wanted me to come over every night. Spend entire weekends with him. Drop off meals at his work so he could "show me off" Exhausting to say the least. Then I was driving my brand new Acura MDX one day, and he was in the passenger seat. We got rear ended. I started to cry. He couldn't understand why I was crying, and told me I was making a big deal out of nothing. I couldn't understand why he didn't think that an accident with your brand new car would be upsetting. The final straw was when we went to have lunch at Chipotle. It was the one that I always went to. Right across the street from my work. He had never been to a Chipotle before. He didn't understand the accent of the person who was helping us (who happened to be very sweet. She helped me all the time) and started cursing at her and calling her names that you could not even imagine, because we were in F'n America, and people should learn to speak F'n English. Yeah......I'm NOT kidding. That was a BIG NEXT.......
I decided to take a break from the internet. I had a good friend who wanted to set me up with somebody. I'm not going to go into too many details with this one, but let's just say, I really liked him. I even thought he could be THE one. We went on our first date, talked for hours, until they literally threw us out of the restaurant. He had a great personality. He was a smoker like I was at the time. I loved that, because I didn't get dirty looks every time I reached for my cigarettes. I told him that hopefully I would be able to see him again, but it would be about 3 weeks. I was leaving for an Eastern European vacation in two days and had a lot to do. I hadn't even packed. I would be gone close to the three weeks. He asked if he could see me the next night. I told him I couldn't, I had to pack. He was very persuasive, and I ended up seeing him the next night and we talked for hours again. I came home around 2:00 AM, and had to get on a 6:00 AM flight. I told him that I couldn't call him from Eastern Europe because the calls would be so expensive, but I broke down twice, and called him for a couple of minutes. We definately had chemistry. No doubt about that. When I got home, he wanted to take me to Duluth. While we were there, we walked past a church or a school, I don't really remember, that was burying a time capsule. It was to be dug up in 30 years I think. He looked at me and said, when that time capsule is dug up, we will be standing here together, married, watching it being dug up. My heart skipped a beat. We went to dinner, and he was staring at my left hand. I asked him what he was looking at. He told me that he was picturing a ring on "that" finger. Could it be that my search was finally over? No. He was not my destiny. After Duluth, things got a little strange. He wanted to slow things down. Um, okay... He asked me out for another date and was trying to kiss me. Weren't we supposed to slow things down? I was so confused. That was the end. He stopped answering my calls. I texted him a few times to see what was going on. He didn't answer. I still don't know what happened. He's the only guy out of everybody I ever dated that I felt was "the one who got away". I now know that he wasn't God's plan for me. NEXT!........
I went back on Match. Right away I met a nice guy. I was 30, and he was 40. I definately did not mind the age difference, but he so did not have his life together. He didn't have a car, he lived in an apartment with 2 younger female roommates. It felt like Three's Company without the laughs. I liked him. There was no way I would ever love him. As a friend put it, he was bland. That he was. There was never enough money to go out. We sat around his apartment all the time. His roommates started getting irritated that I was a "permanent fixture". He promised to take me to Florida to the point that we even bought the plane tickets. Then he got a part in some community theater play and said we couldn't go. I had enough. I broke up with him right before Valentine's day, 2006. I was so disgusted with him that it was worth spending another Valentine's day alone, rather than break up with him after. Ugh. Very weakly, and with much exhaustion, I said next.......
I really wanted a break. From everything. From Match.com, from talking to guys, from first dates, from analyzing relationships. That was not meant to be. My mother knew that I was miserable without a soul mate. She kept pushing me. I was writing back and forth to no less than a dozen guys. All wanting to take me out. Me putting them off. I did have a good excuse. My brothers wedding was coming up. My sister-in-law was a bit of a bridezilla. I had fittings for my bridesmaid dress every week, etc....Nothing too terrible, but very time consuming. Truly, however, my heart did not jump out at any of the gentlemen I was speaking with. I was waiting for someone or something. I would find out about 2 weeks later exactly what I was waiting for.
I was waiting for Rick.
Okay, my positive of the day. I made it through parental training. This happens every Thursday. The supervisor of Lucas's Therapy program makes me work with him like they do. I haven't been feeling well, so I've really been dreading it. She even takes notes on my interactions with my own son. I feel somewhat belittled. Every week I cry through parental training because Rick should be here to see the progress that his little boy is making. Slow, but steady. Today, I made it. Sick, exhausted and with not one tear. I did it Baby :-)
My brother met his wife on a dating site. My mom thought it would be a great idea for me. I resisted with every ounce of my being. I don't want to be on a dating site! My mom told me that things aren't like they used to be. "Where are you going to meet somebody? At a bar?" I don't know mom. Maybe a Sock hop? Maybe things are the same as they "used to be"? I just don't know. "Alright"! "I'll try it".
The first dating site my mom suggested was JDate. This is a Jewish website. This is also the website that my brother met his wife on. I told my mom it would be a waste of time and money. While there are a LOT of Jewish guys in Brooklyn, there are barely any in Minnesota. She told me to try it. Okay, I did. I met this guy right away. He had converted to Judaism. I dated him for a while. He was boring, but he was nice. When we hired a limousine for my 30th birthday party, and it dropped us off at the restaurant in Minneapolis, but never picked us up, he actually walked home (thank God he lived in Minneapolis), and got his car and drove us all home. About 15 people. It was funny. Everybody was sitting on every body's laps. He was nice, like I said, but he bored me to tears. I also think I was a bigger personality than he was able to handle. Goodbye boyfriend #1 off the Internet. NEXT.......
As I predicted, nothing came of JDate. It was the same 5 guys. I had the guy who decided he loved me on our first date and when I made the mistake of getting into his car to go from the restaurant to the movies, tried to grope me over and over. Ick! Okay, moving on.....My mom really wanted me to be with somebody Jewish. Not because she doesn't like other religions. She just felt that it would be easier on the marriage, and easier on any children that should come from the marriage. I told her that if she really wanted me to be with somebody Jewish, she should not have moved me to Minnesota. Period. End of discussion.
The next website was Match.com. After all, you see the sentimental commercials with all the happy couples. They boast that they have the highest success rate. Yada, yada, yada. Okay, here we go....
There was the guy who was super nice, but after about ten dates, he told me he didn't know what to do with me. Huh? I was something that needed something to be done with?? What? He explained to me that he likes to date "damsels in distress". He likes to be the knight in shining armor that comes to a girls rescue. He told me that I didn't seem like a girl that needed rescuing. Ummm.... Okay. NEXT!
There was the guy who lived very close to me, which made me happy to not have to drive to the city. He seemed nice. He had a great job and a really nice house. The problem was, he wanted every second of my time. He wanted me to come over every night. Spend entire weekends with him. Drop off meals at his work so he could "show me off" Exhausting to say the least. Then I was driving my brand new Acura MDX one day, and he was in the passenger seat. We got rear ended. I started to cry. He couldn't understand why I was crying, and told me I was making a big deal out of nothing. I couldn't understand why he didn't think that an accident with your brand new car would be upsetting. The final straw was when we went to have lunch at Chipotle. It was the one that I always went to. Right across the street from my work. He had never been to a Chipotle before. He didn't understand the accent of the person who was helping us (who happened to be very sweet. She helped me all the time) and started cursing at her and calling her names that you could not even imagine, because we were in F'n America, and people should learn to speak F'n English. Yeah......I'm NOT kidding. That was a BIG NEXT.......
I decided to take a break from the internet. I had a good friend who wanted to set me up with somebody. I'm not going to go into too many details with this one, but let's just say, I really liked him. I even thought he could be THE one. We went on our first date, talked for hours, until they literally threw us out of the restaurant. He had a great personality. He was a smoker like I was at the time. I loved that, because I didn't get dirty looks every time I reached for my cigarettes. I told him that hopefully I would be able to see him again, but it would be about 3 weeks. I was leaving for an Eastern European vacation in two days and had a lot to do. I hadn't even packed. I would be gone close to the three weeks. He asked if he could see me the next night. I told him I couldn't, I had to pack. He was very persuasive, and I ended up seeing him the next night and we talked for hours again. I came home around 2:00 AM, and had to get on a 6:00 AM flight. I told him that I couldn't call him from Eastern Europe because the calls would be so expensive, but I broke down twice, and called him for a couple of minutes. We definately had chemistry. No doubt about that. When I got home, he wanted to take me to Duluth. While we were there, we walked past a church or a school, I don't really remember, that was burying a time capsule. It was to be dug up in 30 years I think. He looked at me and said, when that time capsule is dug up, we will be standing here together, married, watching it being dug up. My heart skipped a beat. We went to dinner, and he was staring at my left hand. I asked him what he was looking at. He told me that he was picturing a ring on "that" finger. Could it be that my search was finally over? No. He was not my destiny. After Duluth, things got a little strange. He wanted to slow things down. Um, okay... He asked me out for another date and was trying to kiss me. Weren't we supposed to slow things down? I was so confused. That was the end. He stopped answering my calls. I texted him a few times to see what was going on. He didn't answer. I still don't know what happened. He's the only guy out of everybody I ever dated that I felt was "the one who got away". I now know that he wasn't God's plan for me. NEXT!........
I went back on Match. Right away I met a nice guy. I was 30, and he was 40. I definately did not mind the age difference, but he so did not have his life together. He didn't have a car, he lived in an apartment with 2 younger female roommates. It felt like Three's Company without the laughs. I liked him. There was no way I would ever love him. As a friend put it, he was bland. That he was. There was never enough money to go out. We sat around his apartment all the time. His roommates started getting irritated that I was a "permanent fixture". He promised to take me to Florida to the point that we even bought the plane tickets. Then he got a part in some community theater play and said we couldn't go. I had enough. I broke up with him right before Valentine's day, 2006. I was so disgusted with him that it was worth spending another Valentine's day alone, rather than break up with him after. Ugh. Very weakly, and with much exhaustion, I said next.......
I really wanted a break. From everything. From Match.com, from talking to guys, from first dates, from analyzing relationships. That was not meant to be. My mother knew that I was miserable without a soul mate. She kept pushing me. I was writing back and forth to no less than a dozen guys. All wanting to take me out. Me putting them off. I did have a good excuse. My brothers wedding was coming up. My sister-in-law was a bit of a bridezilla. I had fittings for my bridesmaid dress every week, etc....Nothing too terrible, but very time consuming. Truly, however, my heart did not jump out at any of the gentlemen I was speaking with. I was waiting for someone or something. I would find out about 2 weeks later exactly what I was waiting for.
I was waiting for Rick.
Okay, my positive of the day. I made it through parental training. This happens every Thursday. The supervisor of Lucas's Therapy program makes me work with him like they do. I haven't been feeling well, so I've really been dreading it. She even takes notes on my interactions with my own son. I feel somewhat belittled. Every week I cry through parental training because Rick should be here to see the progress that his little boy is making. Slow, but steady. Today, I made it. Sick, exhausted and with not one tear. I did it Baby :-)
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
All of my hopes and dreams taken off my finger
Who started this tradition anyway? A man decides he loves you. He decides he wants you in his life forever. Then he starts worrying...... What kind of ring does she want? What ring size is she? How much can I afford to spend without disappointing her? Does she like Platinum or yellow gold? What is her perfect ring?!? Nobody is 100% sure who started this tradition. You will get different answers from different sources. Ask ten different countries, get ten different answers. I can tell you that from personal experience. The "strangest" country I thought (at that time) was China. Nobody wore engagement rings or wedding bands in China. I was shocked. Upon asking our tour guide about it, he laughed. "Thats a western tradition". "What do you mean"? I asked. "How do people know who is married, and who isn't"? He explained that the eastern countries do not feel that people need to know marital status from a ring. He told me that some people do wear rings now, but that is because they are obsessed with western culture.
Wow. Not wear a ring? My very first thought was that I couldn't bear to be married to somebody that wasn't proud enough to tell the world that he was married to me. I never went ANWHERE without wearing my rings. I even had a QVC Diamonique (or whatever they call it) wedding set for traveling, so nothing could ever happen to my "real" rings. When I found out I was pregnant, Rick was over the moon ecstatic, but when the doctor ran down the list of things to expect, and swelling was one of them, he was concerned that my rings had to come off. Do you know that I ended up with 3 different sets of cheap costume jewelry rings in varying sizes, so that my ring finger never went naked?
Rick was the same way. He never, ever took off his ring. He was so proud to be married to me, as I was to him. When I knew that we were inevitably ending up engaged (it wasn't too difficult to figure out when Rick started pulling me into jewelry stores) I started a hunt. For what you might ask? For the perfect ring. You see, I have a very different taste in jewelry. I do not like anything that is "ordinary". All of the jewelry I have is either custom made, or very different from the norm. So, the hunt began. First I made a list. I'm ashamed to say I'm not kidding. What did I want. Hmmmm. Well, I love Pave diamonds. Yes, Definately a setting that has Pave diamonds.... I've always been obsessesed with rose gold. It's so beautiful. Okay, rose gold it is. How big of a center stone can he afford? I want at least a carat. What cut do I want? Well, a diamond is a diamond. I just didn't want that "tacky" heart shaped diamond. Yes, I AM shamefully admitting to all of this. When I didn't see anything "just right" on the internet, I started driving to jewelry stores on my lunch hour at work. As days blended into weeks, and Rick kept bringing me to jewelry stores and showing me solitaire setting after solitaire setting, not getting that I do not like solitaire settings, I became a little desperate. I looked up every jewelry store in a 20 mile radius. One day, on my lunch hour, I struck gold! Literally! I walked into this tiny local jewelry store, and before I even got the chance to look at their inventory, there it was, staring up at me, from the cover of a pamphlet. My perfect ring!!!!!!! "Excuse me, sir? Do you have this ring in stock?" The person behind the counter looked up at me. "No. That ring has to be custom ordered. It's a tension setting". A what???? Whatever. "Can I have this brochure"? "Sure, but just to let you know, Gelin Abaci rings are very expensive, and with the price of gold these days......" I had to get back to work, so I scooped up the pamphlet and with a quick "thank you very much", I left. Now, some of you might be reading this in disgust. I can just picture it. How materialistic! It should be Rick that she loved, NOT some stupid ring! Well, you're wrong. Because of my love and adoration for Rick, I cared about the ring. Let me explain....
I grew up overweight. I was always overweight. I remember being five years old and the pediatrician whispering to my parents in alarm, after weighing me. I have no one or nothing to blame. Even at five, I knew it was wrong to shove garbage into my mouth, but I did it anyway. My weight problems are definately for a different blog post, so I will jump ahead. I felt like I was never going to find love. I was shunned in school until I developed this "larger than life" personality. You see it every day. What does the outcast become? The class clown of course. All of a sudden, I was fairly popular. I was still the largest person in the entire school, taking into account the girls AND the boys. I was funny though. I had crushes on several guys, but they were never reciprocated, so I became friends with them. I had a lot of self loathing. This went on through my twenties with an occassional date here or there. At the age of 29, I lost a significant amount of weight and gained a significant amount of self confidence. I had a few people I was seeing, but It wasn't until Rick that I knew immediately that we were destined to be together. Rick knew about my weight issues. I showed him pictures of me at my heaviest. When he looked at the pictures, he told me I was as gorgeous then as I am now. Where WAS he all my life??? Okay, I still haven't explained my ring obsession. I'm getting there......
When you tell your friends and family that you are engaged, after congratulations, what is the very first thing they say? Let me see the ring! The man, no matter how wonderful he is, is silently judged by every single person who happens to glance at your left hand by this ring. Many women are disappointed in the ring they receive, but never let on. "I love it honey". The first major lie in a relationship. Some women become obsessed with upgrading at a later date. I am not a passive person. Well, maybe right now I am a little, but usually not. I didn't want to hate the ring that Rick gave me. It's something I thought I would be wearing my whole life. Something that symbolized the massive love we had for each other. Since I had convinced myself some time ago that I was not worthy of being loved, and will never get married, the very fact that it was actually happening was like the a dream that you wake up smiling from. I decided that I am finally getting this golden opportunity. I want everything to be "perfect". I didn't want to look down at my ring finger every day and say to myself, this ring is so not me. How foolish I was then.......
I couldn't wait for work to be over that day. I drove home and ran in with the pamphlet. " MOM!! I found it! I found the perfect ring"! I showed her the cover of the pamphlet. "Are you crazy"? "That looks very expensive"! I told her that I didn't know how much the setting was, but the man in the store said you can pick any diamond to put in it. I asked her to do me a favor. If Rick happened to come to her for advice, which I really didn't think he would, just show him this ring. Rick was very independant. Very different from me. I didn't think he would ask for anybodies advice. If that was the case, I would wear what he lovingly picked out for me. If he happened to go to my mom however, she had the picture to show him.
Well, he loved me so deeply, that he put all of his stubbornness aside, and he did go to my mom and dad. They showed him the picture, and I got my Gelin Abaci, tension set (no prongs, I would come to find out) Rose and white gold, pave diamond, 1 1/4 carat center stoneround cut diamond ring. I don't know how he pulled it off. My parents bought us the matching wedding bands as a wedding gift. I would later learn that my mom plotted with Rick for three months while this ring was on order. They were even going to put it in a K-Mart jewelry box when he proposed. Ha ha....Very funny guys. Rick knew my dad was dying, so as private as he was, he even proposed to me on my parents 35th anniversary. September 19, 2006. At W.A. Frost in St. Paul in front of my parents, my brother and his wife. He wanted to see the joy on my dad's face as he proposed. I will save the proposal for a later date as well. I got the perfect ring from the perfect person. Life couldn't get any better. I got my happily ever after. It didn't matter that it took 31 years. My dreams came true. A fairytale love.
Today, 3 months and 10 days after my fairytale love ended, I took my perfect rings off of my finger. It had gotten to the point where everytime I glanced down at my left hand, I started to cry. I sob as I write this. My perfect love has left me to go to heaven, and my perfect ring sits locked in a safety deposit box. I couldn't bear to leave my left finger naked, so I moved Ricks wedding band to that finger. They took it off of his finger at the hospital. I begged them to leave it on. "Please, he never takes it off. Please leave it on his finger", I cried with desparation. If he was wearing it, there was hope that he was coming back to me. The nurse looked at me with pity. "I'm sorry honey. He's not going to make it through this. You're going to want this ring for the memories". I numbly took it and signed the piece of paper the nurse shoved in front of me that I was taking it. My mom and I went and got a "fake" ring for Rick to be buried with. He would have been miserable in heaven without his wedding band, Just like I am miserable on earth without mine.
The Chinese have the right idea........
Wow. Not wear a ring? My very first thought was that I couldn't bear to be married to somebody that wasn't proud enough to tell the world that he was married to me. I never went ANWHERE without wearing my rings. I even had a QVC Diamonique (or whatever they call it) wedding set for traveling, so nothing could ever happen to my "real" rings. When I found out I was pregnant, Rick was over the moon ecstatic, but when the doctor ran down the list of things to expect, and swelling was one of them, he was concerned that my rings had to come off. Do you know that I ended up with 3 different sets of cheap costume jewelry rings in varying sizes, so that my ring finger never went naked?
Rick was the same way. He never, ever took off his ring. He was so proud to be married to me, as I was to him. When I knew that we were inevitably ending up engaged (it wasn't too difficult to figure out when Rick started pulling me into jewelry stores) I started a hunt. For what you might ask? For the perfect ring. You see, I have a very different taste in jewelry. I do not like anything that is "ordinary". All of the jewelry I have is either custom made, or very different from the norm. So, the hunt began. First I made a list. I'm ashamed to say I'm not kidding. What did I want. Hmmmm. Well, I love Pave diamonds. Yes, Definately a setting that has Pave diamonds.... I've always been obsessesed with rose gold. It's so beautiful. Okay, rose gold it is. How big of a center stone can he afford? I want at least a carat. What cut do I want? Well, a diamond is a diamond. I just didn't want that "tacky" heart shaped diamond. Yes, I AM shamefully admitting to all of this. When I didn't see anything "just right" on the internet, I started driving to jewelry stores on my lunch hour at work. As days blended into weeks, and Rick kept bringing me to jewelry stores and showing me solitaire setting after solitaire setting, not getting that I do not like solitaire settings, I became a little desperate. I looked up every jewelry store in a 20 mile radius. One day, on my lunch hour, I struck gold! Literally! I walked into this tiny local jewelry store, and before I even got the chance to look at their inventory, there it was, staring up at me, from the cover of a pamphlet. My perfect ring!!!!!!! "Excuse me, sir? Do you have this ring in stock?" The person behind the counter looked up at me. "No. That ring has to be custom ordered. It's a tension setting". A what???? Whatever. "Can I have this brochure"? "Sure, but just to let you know, Gelin Abaci rings are very expensive, and with the price of gold these days......" I had to get back to work, so I scooped up the pamphlet and with a quick "thank you very much", I left. Now, some of you might be reading this in disgust. I can just picture it. How materialistic! It should be Rick that she loved, NOT some stupid ring! Well, you're wrong. Because of my love and adoration for Rick, I cared about the ring. Let me explain....
I grew up overweight. I was always overweight. I remember being five years old and the pediatrician whispering to my parents in alarm, after weighing me. I have no one or nothing to blame. Even at five, I knew it was wrong to shove garbage into my mouth, but I did it anyway. My weight problems are definately for a different blog post, so I will jump ahead. I felt like I was never going to find love. I was shunned in school until I developed this "larger than life" personality. You see it every day. What does the outcast become? The class clown of course. All of a sudden, I was fairly popular. I was still the largest person in the entire school, taking into account the girls AND the boys. I was funny though. I had crushes on several guys, but they were never reciprocated, so I became friends with them. I had a lot of self loathing. This went on through my twenties with an occassional date here or there. At the age of 29, I lost a significant amount of weight and gained a significant amount of self confidence. I had a few people I was seeing, but It wasn't until Rick that I knew immediately that we were destined to be together. Rick knew about my weight issues. I showed him pictures of me at my heaviest. When he looked at the pictures, he told me I was as gorgeous then as I am now. Where WAS he all my life??? Okay, I still haven't explained my ring obsession. I'm getting there......
When you tell your friends and family that you are engaged, after congratulations, what is the very first thing they say? Let me see the ring! The man, no matter how wonderful he is, is silently judged by every single person who happens to glance at your left hand by this ring. Many women are disappointed in the ring they receive, but never let on. "I love it honey". The first major lie in a relationship. Some women become obsessed with upgrading at a later date. I am not a passive person. Well, maybe right now I am a little, but usually not. I didn't want to hate the ring that Rick gave me. It's something I thought I would be wearing my whole life. Something that symbolized the massive love we had for each other. Since I had convinced myself some time ago that I was not worthy of being loved, and will never get married, the very fact that it was actually happening was like the a dream that you wake up smiling from. I decided that I am finally getting this golden opportunity. I want everything to be "perfect". I didn't want to look down at my ring finger every day and say to myself, this ring is so not me. How foolish I was then.......
I couldn't wait for work to be over that day. I drove home and ran in with the pamphlet. " MOM!! I found it! I found the perfect ring"! I showed her the cover of the pamphlet. "Are you crazy"? "That looks very expensive"! I told her that I didn't know how much the setting was, but the man in the store said you can pick any diamond to put in it. I asked her to do me a favor. If Rick happened to come to her for advice, which I really didn't think he would, just show him this ring. Rick was very independant. Very different from me. I didn't think he would ask for anybodies advice. If that was the case, I would wear what he lovingly picked out for me. If he happened to go to my mom however, she had the picture to show him.
Well, he loved me so deeply, that he put all of his stubbornness aside, and he did go to my mom and dad. They showed him the picture, and I got my Gelin Abaci, tension set (no prongs, I would come to find out) Rose and white gold, pave diamond, 1 1/4 carat center stoneround cut diamond ring. I don't know how he pulled it off. My parents bought us the matching wedding bands as a wedding gift. I would later learn that my mom plotted with Rick for three months while this ring was on order. They were even going to put it in a K-Mart jewelry box when he proposed. Ha ha....Very funny guys. Rick knew my dad was dying, so as private as he was, he even proposed to me on my parents 35th anniversary. September 19, 2006. At W.A. Frost in St. Paul in front of my parents, my brother and his wife. He wanted to see the joy on my dad's face as he proposed. I will save the proposal for a later date as well. I got the perfect ring from the perfect person. Life couldn't get any better. I got my happily ever after. It didn't matter that it took 31 years. My dreams came true. A fairytale love.
Today, 3 months and 10 days after my fairytale love ended, I took my perfect rings off of my finger. It had gotten to the point where everytime I glanced down at my left hand, I started to cry. I sob as I write this. My perfect love has left me to go to heaven, and my perfect ring sits locked in a safety deposit box. I couldn't bear to leave my left finger naked, so I moved Ricks wedding band to that finger. They took it off of his finger at the hospital. I begged them to leave it on. "Please, he never takes it off. Please leave it on his finger", I cried with desparation. If he was wearing it, there was hope that he was coming back to me. The nurse looked at me with pity. "I'm sorry honey. He's not going to make it through this. You're going to want this ring for the memories". I numbly took it and signed the piece of paper the nurse shoved in front of me that I was taking it. My mom and I went and got a "fake" ring for Rick to be buried with. He would have been miserable in heaven without his wedding band, Just like I am miserable on earth without mine.
The Chinese have the right idea........
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