Life is Beautifully Brutal

I had a long, lovely summer with my parents. I'm so happy that my kids get to experience this every year-- life slowing down, biking to the pool every day, and fishing with Boppa. It's a part of my life that seems covered in a golden glow, as if it's laden with nostalgia even as I'm living it. I treasure it as the beautiful gift that it is.

Coming home was brutal.

Remember my burning building analogy? It's as if for the last two years, I thought we were re-building the house, but in reality, he's been holding matches behind his back this whole time. He burned down the house again. Then lied about it. Then blamed me.

We're separated. Again.

I don't know if we'll make it back together after this one, and it kills me.

The hardest part is choosing love and happiness every day. I've lived with enough darkness that I don't want to poison myself or my kids with any more, so I let go of the anger. I breathe. I pray. I do yoga. I take it a day at a time. But some days, it feels like I'm Guido on Life is Beautiful, marching around and putting a positive spin on a situation that is genuinly ugly and frightening.

I'm starting an anonymous blog to talk about this more freely. If you would like the link, email me. I'll give it out as long as you're not J's boss or my father-in-law.

In the meantime, prepare for vacation photos as I focus on the bliss that was my summer. :)

{"Cloud Fragment" by Ken Elliot "Storm in May" by James Lahey}