Accepting Myself and Cannonballs

It may seem like a small thing. Jumping into a crowded pool. But to me is was huge. All of me exposed. Cellulite and all. For everyone to see. Including the one person there who mattered: my daughter. She was the one that mattered. I don’t know why it took me so long to realize this.

The Day I Got a Divorce

Within about 30 seconds of finding this out I was both sending texts and shouting, “yeah, I’m divorced!” and tears were streaming down my face. There was such a cacophony of emotion that I didn’t even know what to do with myself. Laugh or cry. Write or talk. Scream with joy or sadness.

The Other 10 Years

Three years in a nursing home is endless. At first, she talked of going home. She knew me and my brothers. She enjoyed my children. She paced the corridors. Later, she stopped recalling names but still recognized my face. Then, her speech declined.