Well, You Could Have at Least Used a Trash Bag

My constant lifeline…

“I would have lost heart unless I had believed

That I would see the goodness of the Lord

In the land of the living.”

Psalm 27:13 (NKJV)

Assembling this collection of my thoughts has churned up a great swirling in my mind and soul. I still experience moments that startle me, reminding me this is not the life I expected, but it is my life. Looking back and re-living those days through my own words, even today, can stir up shock and bewilderment, not for long, but these brief snapshots remind me of the road I’ve traveled. I’ve even been tempted to leave out certain entries that in my present day make me wince a little...but it was where I was at the time...it was truth that had to be faced, dealt with, and resolved. (I must also note somewhere, so here it is...this is not about my ex-husband, it’s about me and how I traveled the uncharted journey of my circumstances. Nor are these words intended as an endorsement for divorce. I believe in marriage and that marriage is forever. However, when divorce is the final outcome, I’ve discovered the aftermath is not pretty.) The beginning place was being truthful with myself, which I hadn’t been for a very long time. Facing the facts and admitting them, whispering them softly in my soul, and writing them down, were my salvation. Please take heart--the angst, hurt, and bewilderment of those early days, have been replaced by calm, contentment, and a rich life...most days.(Don’t exit too soon, read to the end...all is well.)

With “divorce” in the title, many will expect yet another “how to” book, which this definitely is not. It is, rather, my ramblings, thoughts, and observations...pre-, mid-, and post-divorce. Writing down the truth, and not what my “nice” woman sensibilities would dictate, allowed healing, wholeness, and redemption to my weary heart. There is no advice or “seven simple steps” promising instant recovery. Putting thoughts on paper became a “no turning back” landmark, an altar erected to reclaim my soul. Come with me and perhaps you will be able to identify with some of the words and find a similar echo in your own inner being, and from there, a starting point for your own journey. (note: you might want to stock up on some trash bags.) It’s worth the trip...send me postcard.

~d.c.shaw

Well, You Could Have At Least Used a Trash Bag

A journey through divorce

D.C. Shaw

My constant lifeline…

“I would have lost heart unless I had believed That I would see the goodness of the Lord In the land of the living.”

Psalm 27:13 (NKJV)

Introduction

Assembling this collection of my thoughts has churned up a great swirling in my mind and soul. I still experience moments that startle me, reminding me this is not the life I expected, but it is my life. Looking back and re-living those days through my own words, even today (12 years later), can stir up shock and bewilderment, not for long, but these brief snapshots remind me of the road I've traveled. I've even been tempted to leave out certain entries that in my present day make me wince a little...but it was where I was at the time...it was truth that had to be faced, dealt with, and resolved. (I must also note somewhere, so here it is...this is not about my ex-husband, it's about me and how I reacted to the uncharted journey of my circumstances). The beginning place was being truthful with myself which I hadn't been for a very long time. Facing the facts and admitting them, whispering them softly in my soul, and writing them down, were my salvation. Please take heart--the angst, hurt, and bewilderment of those early days, have been replaced by calm, contentment, and a rich life...most days.( Don't exit too soon, read to the end...all is well.)

With "divorce" in the title, many will expect yet another "how to" book, which this definitely is not. It is, rather, my ramblings, thoughts, and observations... pre-, mid-, and post-divorce. Writing down the truth, and not what my "nice" woman sensibilities would dictate, allowed healing, wholeness, and redemption to my weary heart. There is no commentary, advice, or suggestion held out for you. Putting thoughts on paper became a "no turning back" landmark, an altar erected to reclaim my soul. Come with me and perhaps you will be able to identify with some of the words and find a similar echo in your own inner being, and from there, a starting point for your own journey. (note: you might want to stock up on some trash bags)

It's worth the trip...send me a post card.

~sarah e.young

Well, you could have at least used a trash bag...

You took the remains of our marriage, allowing it to be scattered piece-by-piece along a stretch of interstate highway, deserted and alone.

Days of meandering in the back hills of Tennessee were carelessly chunked out the window like an empty can of beer.

The births of four children were sucked up and out, caught in small cyclones, left to fall where they may, with no safe place to hide.

The faces of old friends were flattened--like drinking cups--by barreling, oblivious semis.

Fragments of first day of school, first dates, first Sundays--all got churned up with road kill, devoured by ravenous circling buzzards.

Bedside vigils, watch care over death, Christmas mornings, U-haul trucks, birthdays, campfires, one-liners of favorite movies--pelted by rain, silently slid into little roadside rivers--left to dry up, dry out, and become the duty of someone's community service.

Songs, county fairs, new houses, new places, scraps of a wedding veil, starched collars, first sermons, new jobs, knowing looks, old cars--all found their last home lodged in median grass waiting for huge dream-eating mowing machines.

Tennessee, Virginia, Alabama, Texas, Florida--states of starting over, and final endings, were whipped around the windshields of passing cars.

Tears, accusations, wounding words, excuses, defenses, and the last good-bye floated and swirled, drifted and settled--unable to escape...to the floorboard.

Truth, honor, fair play, dependability, "brave hearts", Promise Keepers, semper fi--what of these? Are they, too, victims of careless litter?

Well...you could've at least used a trash bag.