Mom and dad divorced eventually. It was so surreal...I remember sitting on a picnic table at Smith Park in Middletown the July before I turned 8. My mom and dad broke the news to my sister and I. Forever changed... I didn't know what it meant, but I soon learned that it meant dad would move out and not be there. It meant we would have to call him at my grandma's and go to stay the weekend with him every other weekend. It would mean slight awkwardness for the rest of my life.
I didn't understand then, and I still don't now why people think this makes it better. Divorce is so ugly! It's ripped my family apart a little too much for my liking. I spent many nights crying myself to sleep or crying on our dog Lady. She looked understanding, or so I thought. When I think of Lady, that's mostly what I think of, along with her hyperactive running along the fence in the backyard, the time she bit me so she could get my pretzel, and the times we dressed her up in doll clothes and danced with her in our rooms. Crazy times!
I went through First Communion class and was so excited...at the Mass I put my hands together with my elbows up super high. I looked hilarious! My grandma kept telling me to put them down, but I was just super proud. Finally receiving Jesus was the best part, although I don't know that I really thought it was profound at the time. We had a big party and I was super excited. After that, I didn't go back to CCD until 8th grade. Yes, I was one of those kids and it has played a huge part in how I approach families in sacramental preparation.
Days turned into months, and months into years. My mom got remarried to a guy named Nick. He turned out to be a complete ass (and I'm being nice for the sake of my readers). Emotional and verbal abuse. Walked around the house naked ALL.THE.TIME. I remember calling 911 for the first time in my life at one point. I will spare you anymore details. Except for leaving the monster on Christmas Eve. My baby brother Mike had come along and was still tiny. We threw all of our stuff into trucks driven by family and spent the night at my uncle's house. It was in the wee hours of the morning around 4am that I finally fell asleep on his waterbed after he got up to milk the cows. I remember that I got a Dallas Cowboy's Starter jacket that year, and it made me feel safe and warm. Mom and Grandma must have really worked overtime to make that Christmas into something better.
I started school back at Edgewood that January, relieved to finally be away from everything, at least for the most part. Middle school was typical...lots of embarrassing moments and not being happy with who I was. I had a huge chest and tried to hide it. I gained weight from unhappiness. I also gained attention from the crudest boys in school. I tried my best to fit in, but when you have so much going on, it's hard. My best friend from elementary school took me to church with her. I loved being at church and going to youth group when I could. Being at church with her changed everything...and eventually something clicked.
I didn't understand then, and I still don't now why people think this makes it better. Divorce is so ugly! It's ripped my family apart a little too much for my liking. I spent many nights crying myself to sleep or crying on our dog Lady. She looked understanding, or so I thought. When I think of Lady, that's mostly what I think of, along with her hyperactive running along the fence in the backyard, the time she bit me so she could get my pretzel, and the times we dressed her up in doll clothes and danced with her in our rooms. Crazy times!
I went through First Communion class and was so excited...at the Mass I put my hands together with my elbows up super high. I looked hilarious! My grandma kept telling me to put them down, but I was just super proud. Finally receiving Jesus was the best part, although I don't know that I really thought it was profound at the time. We had a big party and I was super excited. After that, I didn't go back to CCD until 8th grade. Yes, I was one of those kids and it has played a huge part in how I approach families in sacramental preparation.
Days turned into months, and months into years. My mom got remarried to a guy named Nick. He turned out to be a complete ass (and I'm being nice for the sake of my readers). Emotional and verbal abuse. Walked around the house naked ALL.THE.TIME. I remember calling 911 for the first time in my life at one point. I will spare you anymore details. Except for leaving the monster on Christmas Eve. My baby brother Mike had come along and was still tiny. We threw all of our stuff into trucks driven by family and spent the night at my uncle's house. It was in the wee hours of the morning around 4am that I finally fell asleep on his waterbed after he got up to milk the cows. I remember that I got a Dallas Cowboy's Starter jacket that year, and it made me feel safe and warm. Mom and Grandma must have really worked overtime to make that Christmas into something better.
I started school back at Edgewood that January, relieved to finally be away from everything, at least for the most part. Middle school was typical...lots of embarrassing moments and not being happy with who I was. I had a huge chest and tried to hide it. I gained weight from unhappiness. I also gained attention from the crudest boys in school. I tried my best to fit in, but when you have so much going on, it's hard. My best friend from elementary school took me to church with her. I loved being at church and going to youth group when I could. Being at church with her changed everything...and eventually something clicked.
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