She hadn’t written him a letter explaining. She hadn’t told him she was leaving. She didn’t realize – until she saw her hands putting her journal, a laptop, and some clothes in a box – that she was leaving.
As she packed, her mind wasn’t going over the possibilities of what would come next. She hadn’t made a six-month plan or a five-year plan. She hadn’t given serious consideration to finding work or a house. She didn’t know what she’d tell friends and family.
She needed to breathe.
In order to breathe, she would have to leave her marriage.
As she packed, her thoughts were consumed with, “What do I need to take with me because I am never coming back here.” Her hands operated as if on auto-pilot. Her demeanor was calm and determined. She didn’t frantically start grabbing things from the kitchen cupboards. She methodically filled one box with a few necessities for starting a new life. Continue reading →
“Dad’s here!” Instead of heading to the door to greet him, she ran to her bedroom to change her shirt. As he walked into the living room, she came walking in from the hallway wearing a hand-me-down t-shirt. She smiled up at Mark, and said, “Hi, Daddy!”
Last week I got a 
She pinned the boutonniere to her grandfather’s lapel and walked him out to the backyard. His seat was in the front row of chairs under the canopy. It wasn’t the kind of wedding where the guests or groom weren’t allowed to see the bride before the ceremony. In fact, the bride had been scurrying around taking care of last minute details while dressed in the batiste gown she’d made and embroidered.
They hadn’t seen him in three weeks. On Friday night, they spent over five hours with him. When they walked in the door, at the end of the night, I did a quick scan to check for rapid blinking, slumped shoulders, nervous pacing or shell-shocked expressions.
