Happiness is not a destination;
It is a way we can choose to travel on this journey called life.
~ Linda, September 29, 2013
This week I was given a challenge by a dear friend. “You don’t write very much about your other losses,” she observed. “Why? Those losses and how you dealt with them (or didn’t deal with them) played such a big role in how you dealt with the loss of Bruce. Besides, if this is a blog about loss, then why not write about them?… I would recommend writing about your first marriage and the grief involved with that.”
“It’s too intense… too dark,” I told her.
“Did it happen? Was it real?” she responded.
“Yes… but it’s too much. People don’t want to hear that stuff.”
“People can decide if they want hear it,” she said. “I challenge you to be honest enough to put it out there. You always say ‘if it helps one person, it is worth doing’… maybe there is one person who needs to hear your story.”
In my heart, I know she is right. So, with a prayer and a deep breath, here it is…
Usually when when we think of grief, we think of death. However, there is grief in any loss. For example, in the loss of a relationship or divorce (even when you know it is the right thing to do) there is still pain and loss. While dealing with the loss of my dear 2nd husband, Bruce, I found that I had to go back and “mourn” (or work through the emotions of) other past losses. This included the emotions surrounding my first marriage. There were a lot of “secrets” in this marriage… that this is where so much of his perceived “power” came from in those days. However, most of those secrets I will still keep to myself – at least for now.
This is my story – the story of a love gone wrong… horribly wrong. It is a hard story to tell, but my goal is to be honest. These were the memories and emotions I had to work through before I could work through my grief for Bruce. Perhaps there is someone else out there that needs to do the same. If you have a similar story, work through it. Your healing will never be complete until you acknowledge all it, mourn it and work through it. My hope is that sharing my story will help you face yours.
Her Side of the Story:
This is one of those stories where I would like to tell you both sides of the story… but to do that I would have to know both sides of the story. I do not. I only know Her side, because She… is me .
She grew up in what she thought was a normal family… Don’t we all? But what is normal? She had 2 parents, a sister, grandparents, Aunts, Uncles, cousins,… just like anyone else. She went to school and did well, although her spirit always preferred playing outside to studying indoors. She had friends, hobbies and activities (such as music lessons, church, sailing, and she LOVED the theater). As she got older she wasn’t the most popular kid in school, but she didn’t sit at home every night either. She had a mix of friends from every crowd, and she loved them all.
How she ended up where she did, she is not sure. But… At age 20, she got pregnant, married and gave birth to her first child – premature and stillborn. (A loss I wrote about in an earlier blog.) At 21, her first daughter was born – beautiful and healthy. And by age 27, Her family consisted of 3 daughters, a son and a husband. This first husband was an odd man, though – funny one minute and cruel the next. Within the first month of her marriage, she knew she was in trouble. She had never learned how to set boundaries or stand up for herself – a big gap in her knowledge of life… and her little family would pay the price.
It was a hot summer day in Charleston, SC. They were newly married, waiting on a military assignment and living temporarily with her grandmother. To be helpful, her husband decided he would cut the grass. After about 10 minutes in the hot Charleston sun, he came back inside looking for a Dr. Pepper. There weren’t any. There were plenty of other things to drink, but not what he wanted. This man became enraged. Not believing that anyone could really become so angry over a soda, she laughed. Surely he was joking… that was a big mistake.
Before she knew what was happening, this man grabbed her, shook her violently as he screamed at her and threw her against a wall as he stormed back outside. She sat on the floor stunned. What had just happened? Was this the man she knew? Was this to be her life?
She had made a choice to marry this man. She had been raised to believe that divorce was not an option. (Never mind that the grandmother she was living with had been married and divorced twice… that was considered “scandalous” and not openly discussed.) She had been raised that divorce was wrong, period. God did not approve, period. You would go to hell, period. So, she knew… She had made a choice and now she had to live with that choice despite the consequences.
She became quite good at keeping secrets over the years. In public, they were the perfect family, but behind closed doors was another story. As the children grew up, they became her world. She loved each one completely and loved being their mother. They played together, learned together and became a united team together. This bond helped them to endure his rage.
As the years passed, the violence escalated. She thought she was taking the brunt of it. She thought she was protecting Her children. She thought she was doing the “right thing”… the “Christian thing.”
As time passed, she began to see that it was all wrong. This man was angry and cruel to whoever was around. She came to understand that God did not require her to sacrifice her children or herself to a man who was unable to control his own anger and emotions. She realized that for the first time in her life, she had to take a stand… not a stand against Him, but a stand for her children and herself. It was hard… probably the hardest thing she had ever done.
This decision meant the end of 20 years of marriage. There were another 3 years of continued escalated violence, as these two separated and moved toward divorce. There were times when he broke into the house creating havoc, panic and fear. One night she awoke to find a pillow over her face and his voice in her ear saying, “If you take another breath, it is because I choose to let you.” Then, he was gone. She was still alive but the terror left behind cannot be described.
The violence continued to escalate. This man would not let go… He felt that she and her children were his – his property to do with as he pleased. And as “Christians,” it was their duty to forgive him each and every time … They should just “take it” and forgive. Eventually, a court order removed his parental rights and established a restraining order, but that was only a piece of paper. (His stalking and harassment actually continued for another 5 years.)
Finally on a sunny June day, in a small courtroom in SC, 23 years after it started, the marriage was over. She and her children could move on and live their lives. She had no idea what she was doing or how to do it. She found herself trying desparately to come to terms with what had happened in all those years of marriage. At what point had she lost her own self-worth? At what point had she let herself believe that she didn’t have enough value to want or expect anything more? For over 20 years, she had heard almost daily that the world would spin a lot easier if she weren’t on it… Now she had to prove that theory wrong, if to no one but herself.
All she really wanted was peace… to live a life not rooted in fear. She wasn’t looking for anything in particular. She just needed to learn who she was deep inside… to heal… to find peace from within and to learn to love herself.
It was an exciting and beautiful journey… it was also very hard. Now, add the fact that she had 4 children watching her… and learning by her example. She had been given another chance… She had to get it right this time.
It took some counseling and many years to get past that marriage. Even now, there are still nightmares and periods of insecurity. There are still moments of panic when she thinks she sees a familiar form or hears a voice similar to his. But every year these become fewer and farther between.
While she knew it was the right thing to do, this divorce was still a loss. As a child, she had always dreamed of a husband and children and a home filled with love. That had never happened, instead she found herself mourning the loss of that dream of a loving husband, family and home.
Life does move on, and one day she took a chance and opened her heart up once more. She (me) met a wonderful man… someone whose only expectation was love. Someone who truly understood the term “unconditional love.” That person was Bruce.
Without a doubt, Bruce was the single biggest contributor to my family’s healing. His unconditional love and total acceptance brought us a peace we had never known. My kids and I learned what a true man and a healthy marriage really looks like. We came to understand that strength is not always a physical thing, but an acceptance of oneself and learning how to navigate the world as it is.
I share my experiences this week praying that if someone else is in the same situation, they will realize that there are options. It is never too late. Everyone has value. Everyone has a purpose.
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Who knows… your story may hold the answer for someone else.
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