One night, almost a year ago, I came bounding out of bed in the middle of the night with an idea for a post. I’d swear something had yanked me by the collar of my pjs.
I fixed a cup of tea and started writing. It was as if this post had built up in my mind while I was sleeping. It couldn’t wait until morning to be spilled out on the keyboard.
That post got me in some hot water. When I completed it – in about twenty minutes – I didn’t step back and anticipate that I might be getting myself in trouble for posting it. There was no question about hitting the ‘publish’ button.
To this day, I don’t know where that post came from.
This post arrived the same way. Continue reading →
I’ve been writing here for over a year. Jen and Will know what the blog is about. Will keeps asking for permission to read the whole blog. He’s not ready for that.
I make a damn 
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.
There’s a post rolling around in my head. I keep trying to avoid it. It’s going to make me write it. It’s about why I believe divorce is the only way to survive a relationship with a narcissist.
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.
