My Big Fat Lesbian Divorce – Thank You

In 2011, AP News, attorneys, Blog, Blue Like Jazz, Break-up, C.S. Lewis, cancer, children, Choose Joy, christian, Christmas, civil unions, clothing, coat hangers, Come Here Go Away, communication, cookies, court, Crying, Current events, dating, desert, Divorce, domestic, equality, Facebook, failure, family, fashion, fast car, feelings, finances, Fleetwood Mac, Flowers, Foolish Hearts, Friend, gardening, gay marriage, get a life, God, grief, health, Henry Miller, homosexuality, Jell-O, Kiss, Laughing stars, Law, law enforcement, Lesbian, Lesbian Relationships, lgbt, Love, Marriage, minivan, Musician, Natasha Bedingfield, Netflix, New York, news, NYE, Oregon, Pain, parenting, Pears, people, pictures, Politics, Portland, portland oregon, promises, Questions, Rain, Regret, relationships, religion, same sex, school, September, single, sleep, Steve Perry, Steve Taylor, stress, Uncategorized, vehicle, vows, wedding, women, Writing on January 17, 2012 at 12:32 am

After much thought, I decided this letter belongs as the last entry under My Big Fat Lesbian Divorce heading. It’s really more of a morph (non Power Rangers style, though I’d like to be the Pink Power Ranger if I had to choose).

In saying that, I’m struggling for the words to open a good-bye letter. Saying “good-bye” has never been my strong suit. I’ve led a life of good-byes while I’ve longed for a life of “Hello”.

But you didn’t say good-bye to me or the boys, and in retrospect, neither did we to you. Rather, we’ve lived our good-bye through each day we’ve discovered our laughter and ourselves once again.

So, let me start by saying Thank You.

I didn’t know where this journey of uprooting myself and the children to move up here would lead us. Of course I had hoped it would lead us to a better level of a new chapter in our lives, and it has. Just….without you. At first I felt that was more of an ending, but in reality it’s become a beginning.

I know I cried a lot after moving up here. I had left behind open skies, the sound of crickets at night, and the quiet streets. But despite the reasons we married, I had left it all behind because I made a commitment and I wanted to see where that journey could lead us all as a family. It wasn’t easy but that was the level I believed in my keeping my word. It wasn’t what we agreed on when we decided to marry that day we went to the courthouse, but still….

I thought despite things hadn’t come into my life as I had hoped, that it could somehow grow into what I dreamed of once I moved and in time.

Maybe I didn’t see you as my partner the way I should have when we decided to marry, but I gave it my all to grow into love with you and to be your wife. Eventually I did, but by that time I had also realized that our union was in reality a business arrangement between two people for your job, and would never really be the loving relationship of two hearts discovering each other in the natural progression I had longed for. By that time though, emotions were involved so walking away became a tangled mess. I should have walked away much sooner, but I can’t question or second guess myself anymore, because things turned out exactly as they should.

Since I’ve lived here on my own, I’ve discovered my own heart, my own voice, and my own open skies once again. Perhaps meeting you was exactly what I needed to move me to this new level of my life that’s opened up new and different opportunities for the boys and I.

B is flourishing in his new school, C is mainstreamed without an aide, G is reaching new milestones and D is excelling academically. Who knows if any of that would be the case had we not moved.

I’ve made new friends, explored new opportunities, found that I’m much stronger than I’ve ever given myself credit for, and learned to trust myself once again.

I’ve also found that I know exactly what I’m longing to feel with another person and a liberty to allow myself the freedom to feel it without reserve when it comes. I’ve had opportunities to do just that, but I haven’t settled. Because I’ve heard my voice when I filed for our divorce, and I liked the sound of my own strength.

So Thank You.

I say that without malice, sarcasm or for any other reason than to simply thank you.

You were the train ride here, that held a work shop of lessons that I needed to learn, for whatever reasons I needed. I appreciate that and I’ll always thank you for that.

But now, I need to tell you Good-Bye openly with my words instead of just living it as I have. The boys have said good-bye in their own ways, so I’m not just saying this as your ex wife, but also as your ex family.

We’re good.

I wish you love, happiness and I truly hope you find the peace you’re so desperately seeking. I hope you find healing, hope and joy. I hope many good things for you. I’m pretty sure neither of us had planned for it to end as badly as it did. That’s OK.

Because I’m exactly where God has planned all along.

If you listen to this song, you’ll hear exactly where my heart is in writing this. It starts when Chris Colfer sings, and ends with my


My Big Fat Life – ……

In Uncategorized on August 19, 2014 at 10:55 pm

I have something to share, but I am going to keep it as brief as possible. As much I need to get the words out, I am simply still not in a place to put all the words together just yet.

A few days ago I was on the road taking my adult son home. It was a long road trip. Since Gabriel has a birthday coming up, we also stopped by the cemetery to lay a flower on the grave of his identical twin, Isaac. I haven’t been there in sometime, and I knew we wouldn’t be there before the birthday, so we decided to make the stop while we were in the area. We stopped, dropped my eldest son at his house, and headed home. On the way home Gabriel fell asleep, as did most of the boys in the van.

I was literally moments away from home when I looked over at Gabriel who was sitting in the front passenger side of the van. He is always trying to slide down when he falls asleep, and I freak out over the seatbelt not sitting correctly across the chest, so I am known to keep an eye on who is sitting in the front. Only this time when I looked over what I saw was Gabriel’s chest pushed out, his eyes rolled back and he was shaking. Yes, I freaked the f*** out.

I think I pulled to the center lane, I can’t remember. I just know I stopped the van immediately and started screaming for help. I thought he was having a heart attack. I have never seen a seizure like that before, and I really thought I was watching my son die. I remember when I ran to his side of the van, and opened the door, there was drool on his face. I felt completely out of control to help my child. At one point cars stopped everywhere, people got out to help and yet the only other thing I can remember is looking over and seeing someone start CPR on him. Have you ever seen someone start CPR on your child? I seriously hope not. It was without a doubt one of the worse things I have witnessed happening to one of my children. I don’t know if he was breathing or not; I am not sure what happened in that moment. It’s all still a blur, but I remember seeing that and thinking at that moment that my son was not alive, and laying on the ground.

A woman and her husband pulled over to help. I was too hysterical to follow the ambulance, so she drove me while her husband followed behind. Not knowing if Gabriel was alive, or what was happening, I remember being afraid to walk up to the ER once we got there, but s we arrived, I saw them wheel Gabriel in. I thought I saw his head up, but I was too scared to hope. As it turns out (Gabriel has since told me) he doesn’t recall a thing. He said he remembers falling asleep in the van, but waking up in the ambulance. He wasn’t sure if we were in an accident, or where we were.

In the ER the Drs couldn’t determine what caused his seizure, and assured me that he was seemingly okay at the time. His heart rate was elevated, but that was all that seemed off. Of course I wasn’t really wanting to leave until they ran every test under the sun, but they sent me home with some medication I have to give him if it happens again with a plan to call 911 immediately. I seriously pray, hope, want to believe, I never have to see my child go through that again.

His rheumatologist called me the following day to check in on him; which I thought was really sweet. I explained to him what happened, and he assured me it wasn’t the colchicine. It was the only thing I could think of that could have caused it, because he took it an hour and half prior, and nothing else has changed in his life. He did suggest that since Gabriel has been having such a hard time with the GI side of it, to drop the dose to one pill a day, instead of the one pill twice a day. I expressed my concern that the cardiologist told me that if Gabriel had ever had another flare, they would do surgery immediately to remove the pericardium sac. The rheumatologist assured me that since we can seemingly control it with the colchicine, that if he flared again, we would simply bump the medication back up and not go right to surgery. So I guess that is great news in the midst.

The pediatricians office called me today, and they have ordered an MRI and EEG. I’m supposed to hear from them to schedule. I also place da call to the cardiologist, as someone suggested it could be related. He didn’t get back to me today, so I am hoping to hear back at least tomorrow.

I’ll update more when I find out as we go, but for now that is all I can share.

My Big Fat Life – One Year In 6 Hours

In Uncategorized on August 8, 2014 at 11:00 am

It is a few minutes after midnight.

As I write this, I can look over and see Gabriel fast asleep. I have to wake him up in an hour to take his colchicine, but for right now, he is peacefully asleep.

In 6 hours, it will mark a year since we arrived at the hospital for Gabriel to have his heart operated on. Maybe it would seem further away in time had Gabriel not gotten sick and been battling with his health a majority of the year, but there is no denying our lives are much more different than they were a year ago.

In addition to everything going on with Gabriel, this past year my son Christopher came home from Wounded Warriors, and I had to start teaching the boys at home because the school district simply wouldn’t follow the IEPs. Which by the way, is a real adjustment. I have learned more about math than I ever knew, and wanted to know.

There is no denying that this year has been full of changes. Some good, some challenging and some down right painful. But for all the challenges and changes, I am thankful tonight. I am thankful that a bit ago I got a text from Christopher, that I can see Gabriel sleeping peacefully, and that the colchicine is working right now. Those are some pretty big things in my life, and there is no words that I can use to explain just how good it all feels in the midst of the challenges . I can just tell you that tonight.. right now.. life feels good. It’s not quite there yet, and perhaps life will always be trying to reach for the next step, but for right now it is good.


(Morning of August 8th, 2013. Gabriel was given a bear to keep him company right before surgery. He asked his little brother to keep it for him while he was in surgery. D took the bear and sat him in this chair, overlooking the gardens at the hospital, while we sat in the waiting room waiting for word on Gabriel during surgery)
D and Bear

(My view pulling into PDX to pick up son Chris. Coming home to stay)