So it’s Friday… In normal time, FriYay. But I’m not there yet.
I made it through the bulk of the day yesterday with relatively few tears.
Then call time came.
We’ve spent nearly a year speaking every evening at our time. It’s missing now, and it still hurts. It frankly sucks that here we are a month later (give or take) and my heart still aches and wishes you’d just fucking call.
As I see it, and so well put by my gal pal Susan is I don’t have either definite hope, or… definite closure. I mean there’s the closure of we’re not talking and you’ve taken to ghosting, so yes, closure there. But you know and I know based on our last conversation, things were left very undone. It’s untidy. And it’s uncomfortable.
Through all of this, I believe I will keep you in my prayers. I tried to erase you from my mirror. I failed. And so you’re back up there… I am going to try again. I’ll try again. I’ll try again. It’s the way it is and how it goes.
I also believe there is a reason for everything. Whether I like it or not, there is a reason to go through seasons of hurt. I believe there is a reason you are going through it too. I still hope you are able to get your heart whole again.
And believe it or not…
I still love you.
Really it is the all or all because even today, a month later, I still wish the phone would ring, and you would be on the other end, I wish you would let me know you love me, you want me, and we can work on just being us. I believe however, the odds on that…
Not. So. Much.
So another week in the books. Cabinets are ordered, my taxes are finished and the final K1 for my business is done bringing me one step closer to closing and my new home… I believe in the possibility of starting over in Arizona, with a plan that’s different than what was originally imagined.
Hope is being able to see that there is light despite all of the darkness. DESMOND TUTU
I’d love to believe I’ve cried my last tear over this… and I haven’t. Today was another of the painful booger spilling, hyperventilating, sobbing sort of crying only associated with a broken heart.
It’s a crazy series of ups and downs, and downs, and then some more downs. I’m frustrated. I’m sad. I’m broken hearted. I have moments where all I can do is cry, I have moments where it’s me telling myself enough is enough, pick up, dust off, build the fucking bridge and get over it.
It’s not that easy.
It couldn’t be.
I didn’t just love you as something I said… a cute way to sign a card or end a conversation, or something we said with a kiss goodnight. I fucking love you. There was nothing I had that wasn’t yours, nothing I wouldn’t have shared freely without question or reservation. It was all or all, because I can’t even find myself able to do all or nothing. I don’t work that way.
My house is still in construction, and moving forward, and something I am moving forward with. The only road block I can see is a financing challenge, I’m doing my best to fix that. I love the house, I love that I can build and buy something all my own. I get to live somewhere no one else has… my new home smell. I love that I can do this. It’s scary because it’s so close to where you are. There are some absolute challenges that come along with that. So it’s time for me to really start getting real with that too. Of course, I think the time to get real is here anyway. You made the choices, you called the shots and now we both get to figure out forward based on your choices.
I can’t help but wonder if you really do or ever did love me. I believe you do, or at the very least did. I believe there was more to unpack and talk about and that there was nothing that wasn’t something we could have worked on… had we both been up to the task. Yours. Mine. Ours. It didn’t matter. I was. I’m sad the same wasn’t true for you too.
And so now what?
I hope you figure out what it is that’s hurting you so much. Because I don’t believe you deserve that hurt. I do believe you have to want to remedy it and it’s something only you can do.
I love fixing things.
This… for as much as I’d love to, I know I can’t. That sucks too. I’ve had people tell me about the bullet I’ve dodged, or I can do better, should have better, or deserve better, and right now… though all said from people I like, love, and/or respect, it matters little because my heart and head are still traveling two very different roads. My head is on board with pick up, dust off, build the bridge and fucking get over it. The heart… well… she’s still not on board. Some days it feels so much easier than others. That is the beauty of time on this. There will be more days that are better days as I move further away from the 15th, I also suspect there will be some real challenges as the time to move draws nearer. I’ll do what I can with my tribe to prepare myself for what’s next.
I hope you believe you deserve more. I hope you believe you can find it and make it happen. I hope you believe/d in what we had. I believe in what it is/was, because I saw it in you.
Broken heart will turn into a stronger one within hope. – Toba Beta
So WHAT happens… when what you believe is, isn’t really at all?
It’s been my question for the past two weeks. What I believed was my last first kiss, the love of my life, my person, abruptly ended the relationship. No conversation, no face to face, no nothing. This is what it is and then I was ghosted.
Just. Like. That.
I won’t be so naive to say this is all on him. I can’t. Intentional or not, there are things I may have said and/or did that created some of the relational discomfort that resulted in the break-up. I’m not saying what I said or didn’t, did or didn’t is not valid nor justified. I have no way of knowing.
But still… what I believed to be true isn’t.
And it hurts like hell.
So… Here’s what I know.
I still believe in love. I still believe in bright futures… and for the good, bad, or ugly, I still believe in him. I just can’t wish him ill, not in the way I wish Putin would fall into a full bath tub with a plugged in toaster. Not in the way I wish to never see my narcissit ex-husband. Not in the ways that are burn it down kind of shit. It flies in the face of who I am.
Decisions to make.
It leaves me with decisions to make, you see, I am building my house in Arizona. It was going to be our home. On a gut level… moving forward still feels like the thing to do, for me. Partly, because I’m super priced out of buying anything in Colorado. Partly, because it’s brand new, never been lived in, new car smell kind of stuff. Mostly, because it’s beautiful and I love it. I believe I can be happy there. I believe I deserve my home. I believe I’ll make friends and build a beautiful life there.
So I do what any smart girl does. I’m talking to people smarter than I. Taking the sting of emotion out of the situation as much as possible. I’ll do some looking in Colorado, though I’m likely limited to a townhome if anything. I don’t want a condo… buying an apartment sounds awful.
It’s a two year commitment. One year, I have to live in the home… year two, I can have a renter if I find myself truly unhappy and unable to stay there.
My sister Jennifer would be four hours away by car. Super doable. I am only a short 90 minute flight to Denver, and Denver will still be a frequent stay for work related things. So the decision seems easy-ish.
But. Not. Really.
Picking up everything I own and moving somewhere new…against the original plan is super scary. But shit… I’ve done super scary for the past two years. Haven’t I?
So I believe I will pray on it. I believe I’ll seek wise counsel. I believe I’ll sleep on it for several more nights, and I believe whatever choice I make I will be supported by an amazing tribe of people.
Somedays it’s hard. Just hard. Today feels like one of those days and frankly, I’m not even sure why.
Belief… seems so simple, but sometimes, I think it’s elusive. Believing in a cause, in a team, in myself.
Today… is that day. I’m not sure where it’s stemming from, and I certainly don’t want it to hang around any longer than it needs to, but I feel shaken, a little unsteady. No… a lot unsteady.
It’s a little gut check.
So how to dig myself out of this place of uncertainty and shaken-ness? Well…?There’s the rub. Don’t. Dig.
It’s got to be a lift doesn’t it? Building a ladder, climbing, like stairs, one step at a time, because that’s what I can do. One step.
The thing about belief, or disbelief, is the ability it has to show up in places where it has no business, and I think that happened today. And… it’s hard to find the way out. Taking back the moment isn’t possible, I wish it was, because not only does a shakedown in belief effect me, but it can affect others and that’s not what I’m up to or wanting so I need to be aware of it. And I hope that you are aware of it too.
So let’s be honest. Today is January 14, 2022, and… I am 14 days late in introducing my OLW (One Little Word) for 2020-II.
Now it’s not like I wasn’t considering what my word was going to be this year, in fact, I believe that I’ve gone through six anyway before arriving at BELIEVE. In fact, I had considered gratitude, and had even looked to see if I’d used it as a guiding word since I’ve started blogging. And believe it or not, it’s been 7 ish years that I’ve been at this.
Some years I’ve mastered writing and then some years…like the last two, I’ve really not been committed to writing. I’ve been busy with all of the things that happen in a life. I started a business in 2019. I, like you, found myself in the real life crazy of a global pandemic just three months later. I left a marriage that on paper, and Facebook, would have you believe it was a perfect match. It wasn’t, and in 2020 I made the not so difficult as I look back at it decision to get divorced. I moved. Twice. Once back to Aurora when I left the marriage, and then back to Highlands Ranch when I big girl upped and wanted to go back to where I felt comfortable and belonged. I’ve had dental appointments and dental work out the kazoo. I lost my beloved friend and wingman Deb to complications of Covid 19. And that’s just a little piece of what I’ve been up to the past 730 days.
So here I am.
And I have to say that those past 730 days I believe every single one was necessary to bring me right where I am. Right. Now. My business is not continuing to be operated, at this point. At least by me. In December I accepted a position with Trane Technologies. But I believe my business prepared me with a certain level of braveness to believe I could try something completely new and completely different and be okay in doing so. And… for the record, Trane is an amazing company that does amazing things and believes in something bigger. They have a culture that creates space for their employees to become something bigger and something more. I love that.
A perk of Trane? Well… my new position has created space for me to move to Arizona to be closer to my love, to build a new home, to pick up and try something utterly new. Two years ago, I would have never believed myself capable of being able to buy a home, get a position in a new to me field, to move to a completely different state.
“I believe in Communism. Rom-communism, that is. If Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan can go through some heartfelt struggles and still end up happy, then so can we.”
So what? Right? Well not including right now… I’ve used BELIEVE nine times.
And what that tells me is there is something to believing in something the actual physical process of believing that there’s something more, something less, something bigger, something better, something beyond, something in life, and something in death. There’s something in me believing in me, believing in you and believing in us. So for the rest of the year, I will be checking in on what is possible (Possibility has been a OLW) when we just step out in faith and BELIEVE.
I’ve written about this before. But, in each year we have 525,600 minutes.
It’s a lot right? Yes! The thing is… what do we choose to do with those minutes?
My lament of 2020 was allowing 2020 to happen to me rather than being consistently and effectively in the drivers seat. Part of “Decide to Rise” is to thoughtfully consider what I am going to do with the 2021 allotment of minutes.
My friend Nancy introduced me to the Panda Planner in 2019. It’s a great way to plan your life in bite sized pieces, the benefit of course is to build a series of smaller goals into larger more meaningful goals. Today, I spent time with my PP and 2020 outcomes to build a plan for moving forward in 2021. http://panda planner.com
Check. 20% seems like the low end of the goal setting, I should be able to knock it out of the park. It’s a $31,075.00/month, which breaks down in to roughly $7,769.00/week, which further breaks down to about $388.45/day in sales, $49.00/hour in sales, and then down to minutes… $0.82/minute and finally, $.0136.
Math is funny isn’t it?
Looking at $373,000 ish in a year seems a bit scary, challenging… how will I EVER get there? Like ever? And so you just break it down.
The weekly number in sales made me feel way better prepared to be successful, daily, Ha! Should literally be able to do this standing on my head. Dare say with one hand tied behind my back. But when I break it down to hours, and then minutes, and then seconds… well by the time I get to seconds it feels like maybe the goal, the bar, isn’t set high enough.
I feel better.
I feel like tomorrow, the first Monday of 2021 is met with a plan. A good plan. A plan I can successfully navigate and win. Thanks Nancy for introducing me to Panda Planner. Thanks Denise to introducing me to 525,600 minutes. Both are great tools and reminders that we get to choose how we spend our time.
I started writing this yesterday, and felt like I was on a going no where rant. I guess it’s like that sometimes.
It’s January 1, 2021.
2020 is officially in the rearview. For most of us it was a year that was full of challenge, fear, anxiety, desperation, depression, loss, and likely a million other feelings on the spectrum of BAD. For me, it was no different. As I look back at 2020, I felt I was doing okay and could handle anything that was thrown my way until December 11, 2020, when my friend Deb, who was also my assistant, chaos coordinator, lifter upper, cheerleader and consummate hope generator lost her battle with Covid 19.
I will never be the same. Never. Not Ever. It is as painful for me today when I woke up realizing I am embarking on 2021 without her as it was on the 11th when I lost her. My heart still aches, so for that, Fuck You 2020. Fuck You Covid 19. Fuck. You.
But, I know better.
I know that Deb continues to cheer, believe, and lift up from her perch in heaven. I also know that her belief in me would have me pick-up, dust-off, and kick ass. It’s how she is. Honoring her in ALL things is so important to me.
So… in looking at all of that. And much consideration yesterday, I’ve decided on my OLW for 2021, the word I will use to be the focus of my life and pursuits in 2021.
1. move from a lower position to a higher one; come or go up.”the tiny aircraft rose from the ground”
I have chosen the verb part of speech, because I love ACTION. And more truth, my life needs some action right now.
We have a choice to make, both individually, and collectively.
We can continue to sit in the abyss that is left in the remnants of 2020 or we can RISE. Make no mistake about it, what we do with 2021 is a choice. Rise.
On the third day, HE rose.
Think on that, I have. After the three darkest days in recorded history HE rose. What a powerful demonstration of leaving darkness behind.
The angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here; he has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay.”Matthew 28:5-6
Decide to Rise.
I am working on my business, finding the help I need that Deb was chief in charge of. I think I have. Getting my business to $500,000.00 in revenue, a mark that if not for a pandemic I think I would have reached. Rise to the challenge to lose the last 40 pounds I need to shed, more on that to follow. Rise to the challenge of working on myself, self-care, but not the bubble bath kind, the being a stronger person kind, emotional intelligence, responding to stressors, making decisions daily create the space to Rise.
There are things that no matter the preparation or lack of you’re just not ready to live, to feel, and to be in.
#Covid19 and #2020 have been that way for me. And, honestly, I don’t know that I’ve ever had a harder year in my life.
Not in 1981 when my parents got divorced and our family seemed to split in two overnight.
Not in 1987 when my family lost my grandmother Ruby…
My first, yes, first divorce, not the loss of my grandmother Carolina. The struggles of addiction in my family… The loss of my Aunt Diana, which is really the most painful until 2020.
I started The Mktg Dept in 2019, started building my business, things were moving right along. Enter March… Covid.
I spent literally from March 9th until say May, basically quarantined. Keeping a small business running I missed only one payroll during that time. Our little business received PPP still waiting to see how that get’s taken care of… we received an SBA EIDL loan.
We managed to keep going.
In May, my second marriage imploded. Like literally imploded. It may have in any case, but the lockdown certainly was no help and it’s amazing to feel lonely when you’re in the same room as your family… It’s a mind fuck really.
So we move on… and I moved on.
There was a little let down of the lock down and things were maybe looking a little upward. In September, I was able to visit friends in Fargo, and that felt almost normal, not withstanding the masks on the flight….
In October, we were able to participate in a “hybrid” trade show… That was the last time I saw Deb, my friend, right hand, and chaos coordinator. Deb and I go back pretty far… she was my customer service rep when I was in sales with One Touch Point. She was my rep when she went to Royal Printing Solutions and when she was ready to retire in October ish November ish of 2019 we talked about her part timing with me to help my little business that was growing and give her enough to do to keep from being utterly board and/or getting in trouble.
And so she did.
Seriously… there is no better fit for me than Deb. She’s everything I’m not, and knows me for all of the good and the not so good.
Andy, her husband had recently been sick with Covid, and of course Deb nursed him back to wellness.
Deb got Covid.
The last I really heard from her was November 12th, 13th… I knew she had been to the emergency room, and then after that, I knew she had been admitted in to the hospital. But the silence from her was deafening. And then I heard from Andy November 27th… Deb was still in the hospital and had been on a ventilator for about a week. On December 3rd we got some good news, they were able to turn her ventilator down a bit… she was doing a little bit better. Cautiously optimistic but warned that it would continue to be a roller coaster, Covid is like that. December 9th, things turned worse, no good news and her care providers warned they did not believe she’d survive. I still don’t understand how we went from turning it down a little bit to not believing she’d pull through. I’m selfish, and my prayers were centered around Deb finding her stubbornness, her will to live, to take another cruise, and to golf another round. On Friday, the 11th, Andy texted again to continue to ask for our prayers for my friend Deb… that they were going to wean her from the ventilator. We’d get the miracle of her survival or the miracle of her going home to be with Jesus.
At 7:40 pm on Friday, I got the message from Andy that our sweet Deb had gone home. I am grateful that Andy was able to be with his love when she needed him most, and that she did not die alone, that he was able to hold her hand and spend her precious few last moments together.
And that brings me to today… there are 15 days left in 2020 and I believe we’ve collectively never been more ready for a year to end, to turn the page, and to pray for better days in 2021.
I don’t know what I’ll do without Deb, and honestly, in talking to my dad, we talked about how for me it really would have been “easier” and I know that’s not the right word, but “easier” just the same to have lost him… we think about and consider the loss of our parents as we get older, as our parents get older. We don’t often think about losing our friends, our right hands, our chaos coordinators. I just wasn’t ready to lose Deb…
My heart is completely broken. I am just not ready for this. I am not ready to consider what The Mktg Dept looks like without her. I am not ready to be without my friend. I am not ready for this… Grief sucks. Losing Deb sucks. Covid sucks.
Today is November 26, 2020, Thanksgiving. So I thought I might take a minute, since I’ve not written since MARCH. It may seem difficult to find things to give thanks for. This year has certainly been a struggle, and truth, today is no different.
Since March and the start of Covid and lock down, and safe at home and safer at home and back to safe at home so much has changed. Mostly for the good, though I need to dig deep to find it.
I spent today alone.
By choice. As I look back at 2020, I am outright amazed at just how much selling myself out I’ve done. And I’ve done a lot. It’s embarrassing, it’s painful, and it’s raw. I got divorced this year, moved into a place of my own where everything is self-chosen, self-directed. I thought that I’d made the break. Broken away from people pleasing, from taking the back seat, second fiddle. I thought I’d made the choice to finally, finally, put myself first.
Not. So. Fast.
Dating. I started dating and I fell hard and fast for someone. I love him. I do. But over the past several months I am seeing my old people pleasing behaviors come back to haunt and taunt me. There is so much I love in this person… but then there’s also so much I don’t. Things I don’t agree with and find in huge conflict with my moral compass. And so it flares up and I stand up for what I want only to find myself weakening again. Allowing less of myself than I’d ever encourage of any of my girl gang peers.
So it happened again…
Yesterday. I chose myself. And today I chose to not participate in planned Thanksgiving events. Instead, I binged on Star Trek and I cried. A lot. The tears today are different. I am sad over this person and for a relationship I know good and well isn’t the right place for me. But I cried for being alone. Truth, I think I could have called any number of friends and found a place to be today, but today I chose to be alone. It’s hard, and it hurts, but I think it’s necessary. I don’t know the last time I had this kind of cry, the kind where your heart and gut really hurt, and it does.
I’m sure I’m not done with the cry today. There are more than 365 days of hurt to unpack and deal with. One ugly box at a time. So today, it’s peanut butter and jelly and gratitude for this moment of being strong, even when you don’t think you can.
It’s hard to believe today is March 1st. Today we start Women’s History Month. I really didn’t even know we had such a thing until just yesterday. So I think about the amazing women in history and ponder how they’ve contributed collectively to HERstory.
For the next 31 days, on 5280 Women, a Facebook page I manage with some amazing women, we’ll be looking at the women who have influenced our story.
Women and possibility.
Without these women, where would our story be? They have challenged the status quo, they’ve demonstrated their grit, their grace, their intelligence, and their sheer will power all in the name of possibility for women. These women gave us the right to vote, they’ve given women of color the ability to sit wherever she wants on public transportation. They’ve given us the possibility to carry our own credit cards.
Have paved the way for us to go to space, to work for NASA, to run for president. They’ve given rise to our power in the courtroom, entrepreneurship, the ability to find happiness and success as moms and career women.
Remember this month to thank a woman for helping you believe in what is possible!
My gift for the amazing women in my tribe, and with the thanks to Devon Bawlit…
The Power of
She was warned, she was given an explanation,
yet she persisted.
She chews each stone twenty times twenty,
and when her own teeth fail,
borrows more. She claws her way up
the sides of the pit,
and when they raise the walls, reaches
for the next handhold,
leaving fingernails and skin. Tell her
she is too much,
tell her to go home, tell her that her efforts
impress no one.
She might sob, but she will laugh with the same
Her laughter might be bitter, but persisting,
it will suffice.