Poetry...Words that Make me Feel Naked

Stand

I splinter
Your words like a steel rod
Through the rotted wood of my self
I kneel
On the floor picking at the pieces
Grasping with bloodied fingers
I search
For the glue that can bind again
My self, my worth, my love for you
I stand
On my two feet, wash my hands
The crimson drains down until the water runs clear, then...
I leave

- Denise Cooper Smith

Hope in the Middle

I lay my body home
In your vast arms, Mother
The sun warmed earth of your face
So familiar to this weary soul
Hold me, Mother for a little while
All my sadness and toil spill from my eyes
Wet the soft grass of your cheeks
I whisper my troubles to you
My broken things,  my care worn heart cracks
Seeps invisibly into your core
You bear my burden, you keep my secrets
Does it cost you, Mother?
I am sorry for it
A wind plays over the grass and ruffles the leaves above
Seems to scold her loving reply, "Husssshhhhh!"
I drain my sorrow and sigh on your firm shoulder
Your tears fall from heaven, mingling with my own
Cleanses my hurts and fears
I sit up, able to observe your beauty without burden now
The trees reaching towards God, the work of your nourishing being
The rivers flowing overland as your life force
What's this, Mother?
I lay my ear to your womb
A seed lays buried, hidden for now
Although I can't see it
It is there, churning the soil
A spring blossom after so much winter
I thank you, Mother, for this secret of new life
I lift my eyes and thank my Father
For small joys
In the middle of my pain
Hoped for
Now received

- Denise Cooper Smith

I'm still Alive and Well...and Embarrassing Myself

I first wanted to say, thank you.  Thank you for all your comments.  I read all of them and cried and then I read them all again and cried.  I feel so blessed to have you in my life.  I was again blessed to find employment so quickly and I have been working for the past month.  It hasn't been an easy adjustment for Ava and I still deal with every night her begging me not to go to work and every morning having to hold her while she cries and again begs me not to go.  Although it isn't easy, it is necessary and I'm trying to make the most of it.

Since last post was so heavy I thought I'd share an experience I had at work recently.  It was last week when I naively thought I'd seen the last of that white stuff called snow.  The place I work has a soda fountain in the break room.  I limit myself to one mug a day of the hard stuff.  Anyway I was at my desk working, sipping on my Coke when I needed to get up and ask my boss a question. 

I stroll over to his desk and explain the situation when I'm shocked to see snow falling from the sky.  Mid-sentence I exclaim, "Look it's snowing!" and point out the window.  My boss swivels in his chair and right then my hand clasps around his mug, although I think it's my mug, I take a long draw and expect the bitter sweet liquid to tickle my taste buds when I realize it's water.  Instantly I know I've made a fatal error.  I zoom the mug back down like a bandit just in time for him to swivel back around.  I realize that anyone who might have been observing the scene may have thought I purposefully tricked my boss.

I look at the straw and there is a pink lip gloss stain on it.  At this point I'm stuttering trying to explain what I had intended to explain all the while the color is rising up my neck and into my cheeks and I'm suddenly feeling hot and uncomfortable.  My mind is working about a million miles a minute.  Do I tell him?  Do I tell him?" I am mortified.   Then a very juvenile thought pops into my head, like when I was in middle school, if you shared a chap stick with a boy it was like kissing them.  I just kissed my boss.  The phrase echoes in my head and suddenly I want to laugh, to just get hysterical right there in front of the unsuspecting fool.  I just kissed my boss.  The tell-tale pink lip print silences my rising hysteria and I'm looking at my boss and he's looking at me and I realize he's stopped talking.  He explained what needed to be done and all I could think about was if he might have some contagious disease.  I smile weakly and march back to my desk. 

I should have told him.  What kind of a freak doesn't confess something like that?  He'll find out anyway when he takes a drink and tastes my strawberry flavored lip gloss.  Can I tell him now though?  He'll know I initially wasn't going to tell him.  While my mind becomes a whirling dervish and my underarms kick into overdrive I keep stealing glances at that mug of his.  It's like I'm afraid that straw is going to form lips like an object in Harry Potter that has been enchanted.  I imagine it yelling my guilt to the whole room.  "Shut-up straw," I mutter under my breath and continue on with my work.  I never told him, and there's this certain weirdness there now that I'm sure he senses.  One of these days I'll confess, if that blabber-mouth straw hasn't already.

What is Lost and what is Gained

I don't really know how to begin this post.  I've debated on when and how I'd break the news.  I need this blog...and that is to say, all of you more than ever.  The good news is I'm not dying, so you can breath easier there. 

Last week I boxed up my meager earthly possessions and those of my daughter and I moved up to my parent's house.  It wasn't a decision made easily or rashly.  I've spent many hours on my knees pouring my heart out to my Father in Heaven.  The truth is my marriage hasn't been right for years.  It takes two people to make a marriage work and it takes two to make it fail.  The first thing most people wonder is what went wrong.  There are many things that went wrong, many things I could have controlled and many I couldn't control.  Out of respect for my husband I'm not discussing those things here. 

What I did want to say is that although I am at peace with my decision I mourn what was lost. You plan out this future with someone.  You picture the years rolling out before you like waves on the sea.  Then suddenly the ship is knocked off course, you drift for a time and then shipwreck on a beach.  And that's how I feel right now.  Although I have the love and support of many I feel as if I am the only survivor of a shipwreck.  I must decide what to do next, which path to go down, find a way to move forward and live.  The future that I had assumed to be mine is no more. 

Although the situation is painful for all, my greatest desire is to make it the most tolerable for my daughter.  On the car ride home the other day she said that she is sad that we don't live with Daddy anymore.  She then asked why?  How do you explain to a four year old something that is hard to understand even for yourself?  I told her that Mommy and Daddy make each other sad and that I didn't want to make Daddy sad anymore.  I told her that although Mom and Dad won't be living with each other anymore that we'll always be her Mom and Dad and that we'll always love her.  She then said something that broke my heart.  She said, "Even if I make you sad?"  I said that even if we make each other sad that she is my baby and we'll always be together no matter what. 

My greatest regret, and I have a few, is that I will never be able to give that precious gift to Ava of years of growing up seeing her mother and father love one another.  I know in this culture, dominated by idealized visions of families being together forever that many see divorce as sin, a dark mark upon the person that has made such a violent upheaval in their lives.  I know, because like so many things, I used to judge in the same manner.  A divorce where there is no physical abuse, and no infidelity is often a puzzlement to those who are on the outside looking in.  My sister-in-law asked me if I was terrified of starting over at the age of 28 with no college degree and a daughter to take care of.  I'll tell you what I told her.  I was more afraid of staying in my marriage the way it was and was more terrified of living that way for the rest of my life than I was of leaving. 

I hope I can continue on with faith and hope.  There are moments and days when I feel so stricken that I want to lay down on my bed and sleep for days or cry for days.  But there is always Ava right there with me and she needs me and I need her.  I also need who ever reads this blog of mine.  I've felt so isolated for so long and this blog has been a lifeline for me.  I don't ask for help often, but I'm asking for it now.  Please don't give up on me.  And if you remember say a little prayer for our family.  I honestly can't envision a time when laughter comes easily again or my smiles don't feel forced but there is the hope and that's what I'll hold to.

Love, Denise

Ridiculous Selections from my 6th Grade Diary

Saterday Jan. 1, 1994

I lounged around today.  Last night was fun.  I had Rory my cousin age 13, Jenny 12, and Becca 12, come over last night.  We played games, ate, ate, ate, and watched a movie.  When the new year came I took pots and went outside and banged them.  My sister went on a blind date today.  He was a Mexican.

Monday Jan. 3, 1994

It was an ok day for my social life but when I got home I had so much homework I'm still doing it.  I had a dream that a guy like a promoter told me I should be a model.  I told my mom that I didn't want to be a model but I do.  Mom says that a Mormon can't live that lifestyle.

Tuesday Jan. 11, 1994

Today was jammed packed!  First of all Candi's not hanging out with me and Summer at lunch.  Becca about kissed Kipp.  He wanted to kiss her then he was too shy.  Then Leslie told Becca and Becca told me that Dylan told Leslie he was going to dump Candi!  I'm feeling bad for her but now Dylan is fair game!

Wednesday Jan. 12, 1994

Today was good for school.  But Kipp (Becca's boyfriend) was run over by a horse and was in the hospital.  I found out that Leslie is totally in love with Dylan.  And so is Brooke and their twice as cute as me.  But I'm not jealous.  But Dylan still hasn't dumped Candi.  I doubt he will.

Monday Jan. 7, 1994

Yesterday (name withheld) told me she got her period! (I already got mine and it's not fun!) I debated wether to wright this in here, cous I figured it's her business and this is my diary so why don't I let her wright in her diary and me in mine, but the common sense didn't come through.

Wednesday Jan. 9, 1994

Today was soooo boring.  Becca came down.  I talked to Summer on the phone.  Dylan wants to go with Leslie.  So we don't know if he's going with her AND CANDY.  He said he was going to dump CANDY!  Dylan is so hot.  He had dark strait hair and big brown eyes!  He's so cute.  I wish he was mine.

(I can't decipher some of the dates on these pages.  Who knows?)

Thursday Jan. 24, 1994

I can't believe I haven't written for a week!  Well I said the opening prayer in church.  I decided it wasn't so bad.  There's this boy, his name is Bracon he's so cute and best of all his personality is super!  He's so nice.  Problem.  He is 14.  He probably just considers me his friends little sister.  Rory is nuts for him, chhhh.

Tuesday May 10, 1994

Today went really good!  Summer says Erik likes me.  Cool huh!  Tonight we went to mutual and learned country line dancing from Mrs. Hogan from high school.  It was sooo fun, we learned slappin leather, toosh push, wild wild west, and roll the dice.  It was really really fun!

It's funny and embarrassing the things I wrote about.  I found this diary while cleaning out a few things yesterday.  I think it's a study in why 12 year-old's shouldn't keep journals.  I'm thinking this diary is not going to make it into the hands of posterity!

My Sister-in-law is Talented with a capital T

 

I hope she doesn't kill me for snagging this sexy picture off of her blog.  She really is one hot mama.  Married to my brother, Darren she is outgoing, funny and very talented when it comes to interior design...among other things.  We used to live one block away from each other on the island and I really miss that time when we were both pregnant with our first..well in my case only, child.  Anyway I won't reminisce.  

 

She now lives far to the north in Burley, Idaho and apparently finding amazing finds at the local thrift stores.  She bought this gun cabinet for $15. 

 

And transformed it into this cute cabinet for her kitchen.  I would love to have a place to hang my bag up when I get home.  I am always searching the door knobs to find it. 

 

And this is just scratching the surface.  Check out her design blog here .  I also have it listed under my places to love sites on the sidebar.  

Impressions of SLC Now

It's been six months since we moved here from what I refer to as the armpit of Utah AKA Tremonton.  Although I did think the people in Tremonton were down to earth, I still can't bring myself to like that place.  Dry, ugly with freeways running through it, it's just not my cup of tea I guess. 

But what I've learned is neither is Salt Lake City.  It's an alright place to day trip, but I can't say that living here is anything special.  Like most cities the conveniences of a variety of places to eat and shop have been nice, I'll give it that. 

I'll put it this way.  Salt Lake City feels like a pair of jeans that you are five pounds too heavy to wear.  They almost fit, but that button is just fixing to pop open at any second and your thighs have never felt bigger.  There is no room to stretch out.

Honestly my chest feels tight and I can't relax until I drive north past Farr West.  Too many people y'all.  Y'all know I've been watching too much Paula Dean when y'all and fixing start popping up in my posts.  I'm fixing to eat that butter laden cheese biscuit y'all.  Her voice is like honey to my ears.  Her and that Barefoot Contessa, Ina Garten.  Confession: I think Ina Garten's freckles are the cutest things ever, is that weird?  I just can't trust Giada though or that awful semi-homemade woman.  Two skinny broads peddling food?  Yeah, I don't think so. 

I didn't get on here to critique the personalities of The Food Network though, for heaven's sake, I came on here to just say that I don't know what I am anymore.  I didn't think I was a country girl, but I sure am not digging the city either.  I want culture and diversity and people who are engaged in the broader outside world...and I want less people, less buildings cluttering the skyline, less snobbishness, less dogs, less traffic.  Is that too much to ask for?  Does such a place exist? 

A Story about Debbie

 

By now you have to know that the woman that is my mother is someone very special to me.  What you may not know is that besides being sweet, kind, patient and able to hold a smile for hours on end, she is also...precocious and dare I say, a bit uproarious at times.  On the whole she is a very in control person.  Inhibited in groups and always polite.  But there were times growing up that she would laugh louder and dance sillier than the rest of us.  My dad has always said he would like to get a little alcohol in her...just to see all that pent up craziness let loose.  

About a year ago my parents got back from California.  My dad used to travel quite a bit for his job with ATK and my mom would sometimes go with him.  Both Mom and Dad started chuckling as Dad began his narrative about an incidence that occurred while they were at a park one day in California.  My Dad...Iron Man Dan...was getting in his run for the day and was running the length of a strip of sidewalk and then turning around and running back to my mother, who was walking.  My dad is rather competitive.  So naturally it started to miff him that every time he'd turn around to run back towards my mom she would be closer than he would have thought.  He started to think he must be out of shape, or just getting older.  Then it hit him.  

Apparently, every time my dad would turn away from my mom and start running away from her she would also break into a run.  When he got to the turn around she would stop running and pretend as if she had been walking the whole time.  It still makes me giggle thinking about it.  Thanks Debbie, for being you!