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I Cut My Hair

I was struggling. A lot. There were moments of peace. Moments where I wasn’t feeling completely heavy. Mostly though, I put on a brave face. I walked around and smiled and returned to life as normal…because, well, what else was I supposed to do? 
But there was nothing normal about my life and how I was feeling. I had a million questions. What about our sealing? Do I still want that? Was it all really just mental illness? Or was there a lot of just foul temper in there too? Who can know for sure…they both look so much the same. 
There were days and days of debate within my heart. Hours and hours of wondering if I wanted to be sealed to this man for all of eternity or if I wanted to seek another relationship with someone who would be an actual partner in life. I had dreams about Cory. I had dreams about finding someone who was kind and gentle. Those two dreams were never the same night. It was never Cory who was the someone who was kind and gentle. It was always some other, unknown person…
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A Saturday Hike

I was going to go to the temple one Saturday. See, about a month before Cory passed, the Oakland temple closed for at least a year. So getting to the temple isn't as easy as it used to be. I planned to go to the Fresno temple while visiting friends a couple of weeks ago. But it was closed for it's two-week cleaning. Then I tried to go with a friend to the Sacramento temple but traffic made it so that we didn't make the session.

I needed to go to the temple. But this would be my first time back to the temple since he died and I had all kinds of feelings about it. When it came down to it, I couldn't make myself get out of bed. I also needed to prepare a Sunday School lesson for my class, practice my song that I would be singing in Sacrament meeting, fold and put away my laundry, clean and vacuum my home, and I needed to eat something...because it was nearly 1:00 in the afternoon. But I just kept thinking, if I get out of bed, what I really should do is go to the temple b…

Family Search

I was putting away some papers this morning and I had forgotten about a pile of papers that were on top of the bin. As I pulled it down off the shelf, the papers on top fell to the ground. And a wave crashed over me as I sank to the floor and cried.

I had pulled the papers out to mail to Cory. They were his mission call, his mission release, and his priesthood line of authority papers. Things I knew he'd want that I didn't throw away. Things I meant to mail to him back in October when we talked about it over the phone. Things I meant to mail again in December when I pulled them out of the bin and set them on top of it. But then they were forgotten up there.

I reached out to my friend. She was with me when I had pulled the papers out and ached. She was at work, but she texted and offered comfort and solutions. Maybe connect them with his Family Search information?

Family Search.

I stop breathing.

One more place to write down that he is dead...a place that feels more final to me…

My life ended 10 days ago and then it started again.

Cory. The first time I met him and he told me his name, five minutes later I called him "Cody." And that is how we began, with me hurting his feelings because I remembered the wrong name.

Twenty years and 3 months and one day after that first meeting, he died. I can hardly believe the life I've lived in those 20 years...it seems we packed an eternity of experiences - both good and awful - into those two decades.

We were engaged the day we met. Four months later we were married. Thirteen years later we divorced. Two years after that, we were married again. Four years (plus a little) later, divorced again. Ten months, three weeks, and five days later, he was dead.

The first divorce, I didn't know it was mental illness. One moment he was loving and the best man I'd ever known. The next moment he was scary and someone I was afraid to be around. He would apologize and I would believe him when he told me he would not do it again. I would immediately extend trust and we …

If ye are prepared...

In Mosiah 11:17-19, we read:

17 And king Noah sent guards round about the land to keep them off; but he did not send a sufficient number, and the Lamanites came upon them and killed them, and drove many of their flocks out of the land; thus the Lamanites began to destroy them, and to exercise their hatred upon them.
18 And it came to pass that king Noah sent his armies against them, and they were driven back, or they drove them back for a time; therefore, they returned rejoicing in their spoil.
19 And now, because of this great victory they were lifted up in the pride of their hearts; they did boast in their own strength, saying that their fifty could stand against thousands of the Lamanites; and thus they did boast, and did delight in blood, and the shedding of the blood of their brethren, and this because of the wickedness of their king and priests.
 As I was pondering on those verses this morning, I was reminded of how very much like King Noah and his priests I can be. He t…

Masculine and Feminine

Having experienced much of what could be termed abuse in my life, I have sought deeply to understand the truth of man and woman that I might heal and have whole relationships.  There are some truths which are hard to hear and some truths which cause rejoicing when heard.  The particular truths I desire to share here, if a person is not ready to hear them, will sound very wrong and hard to hear.  So before you read further, I ask that you pause and consider whether or not you are willing and ready to read my words as I intend them, giving them my meaning and not adding your own on top of them.  If you are not in a healthy space with masculine and feminine truths, if there is bitterness or anger in you, please pause and consider coming back to this post another time.  Otherwise, this post may incite you and cause anger to rise in your heart because you won't be ready to understand the true meaning of these words.

That very long disclaimer said, if you choose to continue to read, I a…

Of Beauty

A treatise on words and creation.

The words we use convey meaning.  Sometimes this meaning is powerful and deep.  Other times this meaning hurts and is painful.  The meanings may fill us with joy.  Still, other times it fills us with dread.  How?  How can words have such powerful meaning?  How do words start and end wars?  How do words make or break relationships?  How does someone not saying a particular phrase bring peace or pain?

Why do we share words with each other?  Is it not, in it’s essence, for connection?  Words help us understand each other.  They propound to others that which is internal and unseeable, unknowable in any other way.  Words are one of the highest expressions because they allow me to convey my brightest or most noble thoughts, my base and shameful feelings, my fears and triumphs, my sorrows and my joys; words allow me to take all of these abstract things which do not exist in reality and carry them forth into a moment and make them known to all who hear me.  W…