tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1688452640127540592024-02-07T03:24:39.272-07:00Beginning Over AgainHow do you let go of part of your life and say it doesn't belong any longer? I do not know…Marie Rickshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05781359646180029506noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-168845264012754059.post-27814983010360918112009-04-14T11:19:00.014-06:002009-06-06T19:56:12.171-06:00Saturday Night<span style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" >[Anonymous guest author's name withheld as she heals...]</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiikvW_d1DRpTNGmUVOjtOfBTipks2cgCNq0tYpsyZYrQBQXvnlgkCjBMAetnBjiky5E14ZGiIzirB8U-dSkkDAF1kMwF5x85M-vxbz_VuMVfUhN_Wqm05FGJUjdYjbjxruNZPM4Ax1EYZO/s1600-h/brown+on+blue+dried+flowers.PNG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 238px; height: 159px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiikvW_d1DRpTNGmUVOjtOfBTipks2cgCNq0tYpsyZYrQBQXvnlgkCjBMAetnBjiky5E14ZGiIzirB8U-dSkkDAF1kMwF5x85M-vxbz_VuMVfUhN_Wqm05FGJUjdYjbjxruNZPM4Ax1EYZO/s320/brown+on+blue+dried+flowers.PNG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324600456686159602" border="0" /></a>Another Saturday night...<br />I can hear people coming and going outside<br />Places to go, people to see.<br />I sit on the couch trying to get motivated<br />Trying to find something that will keep my mind off the loneliness lurking around the corner.<br /><br />Just a few years ago I longed to have the house to myself<br />The freedom to do as I pleased, the peace and the quiet.<br />Now that that time has arrived,<br />It's not so great.<br />Oh, the first few hours are nice, but then you begin to realize just how alone you are<br />Nothing to do, nowhere to go, no one to talk to.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZvaQu-6KJiiWM14odj38uaw5XqgABSnzOffVAgHivtH13n0yDKlDVf8KLs2qTC4BNxm7CMIy0fjFPo2pTIOxdj0mGj_8sErw-VoMq7msxGNjL-iRGYQ95br3ODY93e_CXcQLxW1YzUUyL/s1600-h/hanging+seed+pods.PNG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 170px; height: 256px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZvaQu-6KJiiWM14odj38uaw5XqgABSnzOffVAgHivtH13n0yDKlDVf8KLs2qTC4BNxm7CMIy0fjFPo2pTIOxdj0mGj_8sErw-VoMq7msxGNjL-iRGYQ95br3ODY93e_CXcQLxW1YzUUyL/s320/hanging+seed+pods.PNG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324601055242661058" border="0" /></a>I resist the urge to think about him<br />Where he must be, who he is with, what he must be doing.<br />Is he happy and laughing or do his thoughts drift back to me.<br />Does he fight the urge to drive by and see if I'm home?<br />He told me I was destroying him, that he had died in our relationship.<br /><br />He has made it look so easy to walk away<br />To start a new life, to move on.<br />How does he do that?<br />Does he feel any longing inside for what he once had?<br />Or is the grass still greener on the other side?<br /><br />I look at her and wonder what she has that has drawn him to her.<br />At first glance, she is neither pretty nor feminine<br />She is rough around the edges and walks with a swagger.<br />She is neither fit nor trim.<br />I'm told she looks better without makeup and laughs like a tomboy,<br />That she's nothing like me.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFl61MbV0tJ_uvCnDsb-S9bQ01Y_EoAQJY30AJDI5bdJEOL-y1ofsLiI41d6-f2Mq8Tjoo_W_z6drt-Sg8T_yPbaQijNp8rrCJckOzZnLis1alL9KvT7GwhFdRjQQnviyqLkqvfPzqcGYI/s1600-h/brown+leaves.PNG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFl61MbV0tJ_uvCnDsb-S9bQ01Y_EoAQJY30AJDI5bdJEOL-y1ofsLiI41d6-f2Mq8Tjoo_W_z6drt-Sg8T_yPbaQijNp8rrCJckOzZnLis1alL9KvT7GwhFdRjQQnviyqLkqvfPzqcGYI/s320/brown+leaves.PNG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324600640896544754" border="0" /></a>Maybe that's what it is...<br />She's nothing like me.<br />Nothing to remind him of what he has left behind<br />What he once had.<br />Nothing to bring back memories or heartache.<br />Something entirely new and fresh,<br />Something different.<br /><br />Anyone but me.<br />Anyone who will not make him feel less of a man.<br />Anyone who will love him as he is and appreciate what he has to offer.<br />Anyone who will not remind him of his betrayal and abandonment.<br />Anyone but me.<br />The one who would have stood by him if only...<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" >©2009 Marie Calder Ricks/www.houseoforder.com</span><span style="font-style: italic;">.</span> <span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">(Photography by David N. Ricks. Used with permission.)</span></span>Marie Rickshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05781359646180029506noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-168845264012754059.post-83573069282839393162008-11-05T20:20:00.013-07:002009-04-14T11:40:39.466-06:00The Closet Door<span style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" >[Anonymous guest author's name withheld as she heals from a difficult divorce...]</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTEulkaCJPDktEeAF8DK43wNZkU-xspqmApLEKmvHpm8E2F2SU4VyIRhNB_28XLq36uv5yynEwJFvCJ9ooUDUe4ebwnRXuIEOfgYvVa-XPHmDdFzXA9EJhtZWQLK2Jn4ggqsb3__dDuYDw/s1600-h/Closet+Door+02.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 288px; height: 192px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTEulkaCJPDktEeAF8DK43wNZkU-xspqmApLEKmvHpm8E2F2SU4VyIRhNB_28XLq36uv5yynEwJFvCJ9ooUDUe4ebwnRXuIEOfgYvVa-XPHmDdFzXA9EJhtZWQLK2Jn4ggqsb3__dDuYDw/s320/Closet+Door+02.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265381013665464562" border="0" /></a>How do you toss aside something that has been an integral part of your life for so many years,<br />How do you stop remembering?<br />Always afraid of being caught off guard by sights, sounds or smells<br />Bringing back glimpses of memories past.<br />How do you forget the one you loved, the life you forged together?<br />To now walk the path alone with no one by your side --<br />How do you do it? How do you shut the door?<br />How do you move forward alone?<br /><br />Stop, I scream.<br />This is too hard, I cannot do it.<br />Please don't close the door, I want to remember.<br />And yet the pain is too great, the sorrow too enveloping.<br />The loneliness and tears encompass me, I must forget.<br />I must move on lest it destroy me.<br /><br />Move on, don't look back, stop longing for that which is gone.<br />Joy is ahead, there is only pain behind, I say to myself.<br />And yet, my heart tells me that there was joy there, too.<br />Aching to believe that she mattered, that he cared.<br />Needing to believe the promise sincere and the vow heartfelt,<br />That it was true love for evermore.<br /><br />How do you move on<br />Leaving behind the one you loved,<br />The memories you created together?<br />How do you let go of part of your life<br />And say it doesn't belong any longer?<br /><br />I<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqFqpn5cSz3jZO5xxX7Lmm8HK5LL69lSbBJ8nFQA51yhuFeuwejQK3BGWUY10CtcZyM-3uYjXYE-xZChHgVRGinAHEHhFsG8wCpolH92ivU9tlckVj2McrUtNqtUhuxHxZqW1dnmny2tQ-/s1600-h/Closet+Door+04.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 288px; height: 192px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqFqpn5cSz3jZO5xxX7Lmm8HK5LL69lSbBJ8nFQA51yhuFeuwejQK3BGWUY10CtcZyM-3uYjXYE-xZChHgVRGinAHEHhFsG8wCpolH92ivU9tlckVj2McrUtNqtUhuxHxZqW1dnmny2tQ-/s320/Closet+Door+04.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265382288011058754" border="0" /></a> do not know...<br />For my heart is not ready to let go,<br />Not ready to forget the happy times:<br />The tender touch, the cry of a baby born,<br />The sparkle in his eye or the comfort of his arms around me.<br /><br />Today I shall leave the door open<br />For I am not ready to forget.<br />Maybe tomorrow it will be easier to box up the memories and put them away<br />But today I shall remember.<br />I will bask in the memories of laughter and happiness,<br />The playful moments we shared together,<br />Grateful for the time we did have<br />For the life we created together<br />For the moments we shared.<br />I will let the tears flow freely in the quiet of my room.<br />Maybe it will be easier to close the door tomorrow.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"> ©2009 Marie Calder Ricks/www.houseoforder.com. (Photography by David N. Ricks. Used with permission.)</span></span>Marie Rickshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05781359646180029506noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-168845264012754059.post-31277819647991505102008-09-13T21:15:00.020-06:002009-04-14T11:41:46.100-06:00Anniversary<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgetlw6pr0J_yw9rWYploB3cTZ8W2RBY-l_EXwBDzWGHFNZcKhWpCUa_fRfuNeVjI59ZRypjWQerqbzr7-4LM4FLxkui1Tj8cfN53_Jh1zMqLkhtBldfhKhpGV2zQDzL8t1bLPpVtNrHdSu/s1600-h/Streambed+in+hawking+hills%7Esmall.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgetlw6pr0J_yw9rWYploB3cTZ8W2RBY-l_EXwBDzWGHFNZcKhWpCUa_fRfuNeVjI59ZRypjWQerqbzr7-4LM4FLxkui1Tj8cfN53_Jh1zMqLkhtBldfhKhpGV2zQDzL8t1bLPpVtNrHdSu/s320/Streambed+in+hawking+hills%7Esmall.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246716094768863826" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">[Shared by an anonymous guest author, healing after her divorce...]</span></span><br /><br />As I thumb through the pages of the calendar<br />They are full of appointments and places to be and things to do.<br />My gaze finally settles on a day that has remained perfectly empty.<br />Nothing has been written, the spot is bare:<br />No appointments, birthdays or lunches listed there.<br />To the passerby, you would think it was just another day<br />A day with no expectations, meetings or schedules to keep,<br />A day that rarely happens in a life so busy.<br /><br />Usually one would breathe a sigh of relief for such freedom<br />And yet my heart aches, for this is no ordinary day...<br />For you see that day was my wedding day so many years ago:<br />A day highly anticipated, dreamt about and planned for<br />A day of laughter, joy and happiness<br />A new beginning between two people so deeply in love<br />They had waited so long to find each other and now it had finally happened.<br /><br />Nothing would stand in their way.<br />Together they would conquer the demons that lurked in the shadows.<br />This day was to be celebrated by one and all,<br />For this was to be the beginning of an eternal family.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWiOaTYZ489gnxgl8uNNBdA3liaIK76DBu7sTAm0J02rAjVYyMbj1z7ZGoi3jUDUzzu5tKXbKJuIlIosLjlgqzj7zpV5Cqlg8YVOX5zlbh2t3Bx-9CWW0BOFxL7uxFynRIoOlkhlRzwC-h/s1600-h/Hawking+Hills+stone+and+brick+bridge%7Esmall.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWiOaTYZ489gnxgl8uNNBdA3liaIK76DBu7sTAm0J02rAjVYyMbj1z7ZGoi3jUDUzzu5tKXbKJuIlIosLjlgqzj7zpV5Cqlg8YVOX5zlbh2t3Bx-9CWW0BOFxL7uxFynRIoOlkhlRzwC-h/s320/Hawking+Hills+stone+and+brick+bridge%7Esmall.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246716097664690610" border="0" /></a>As time went by, the demons grew larger, more powerful and harder to ignore.<br />The time came when they took over and the young love was crushed.<br />Resolve to stand together and conquer all was lost and a chasm began to set in,<br />Until the day when the divide could no longer be mended.<br />Two lives that had become one were now separate.<br />Promises were left unfulfilled, dreams dashed and futures faded.<br />Lives that should have been shared were now shattered, all hope lost.<br /><br />Although this day will never bare "Anniversary" again for us<br />My heart will always remember<br />And although that date may fade in his mind<br />I pray that he will always remember ...<br />For that was our day, our beginning.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" >©2009 Marie Calder Ricks/www.houseoforder.com</span>. <span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">(Photography by David N. Ricks. Used with permission.)</span></span>Marie Rickshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05781359646180029506noreply@blogger.com3