Yes, this is my life

It's hard to even imagine I'd ever come to a day when I'd be able to say this but... If someone asked me if I could bring Mike back, would I? The answer today is absolutely not. There was a point in my life that I prayed it was just a dream and to please wake up to my ordinary life. But things have changed with time. The only way I can really describe it is I'm finally coming out of a fog. Things that made perfect sense once seem so irrational now. I would absolutely not bring back the Mike that he was at the end of his life. He didn't even like himself. To some that may sound cruel and cold but he was a stranger in the last months and weeks of his life. I am sure he didn't even recognize himself in the mirror. It would be selfish to bring him back just for the sake of him existing. It would be more detrimental to the kids to be raised by someone who refused to acknowledge his illness. The chaos and fear they would feel would form who they become. My son

Five years ago my life looked so much different than it does today. So much in fact that people who don't know us well may never believe exactly what we've been through. I can't lie, some of that is by my choosing. The only part or my story that remains the same is the players. Well, most of them. The kids and myself. Everything else is new to my story. Five years ago my kids were 6, 8 and 13. Kira was just beginning first grade. Mason was starting 3rd and TJ was a sophomore in high school. I was married then. My husband was 38, had just officially retired from the Marines and we had finally settled in our hometown. In a two story split level home with a pink tree in the front yard. I remember this detail specifically because Kira desperately wanted a house with a pink tree in the yard. I felt it must be destiny because I found her such a home. My husband and I had been married over a decade and we'd spent that whole time imagining what our life would look like afte

First, I apologize for my lack of sharing as of late. It seems the more time that passes the less I feel the need to be heard and validated. I don't know if it's supposed to be that way or not. But, in my case I think this is true. We are coming on 5 years since he died and I am always a bit more emotional in the weeks and days leading up to September 15th. Let's get on with it. This particular blog is not about what type of trauma you may have experienced but what you do after you've been through it. It's some of the only advice I will ever offer up because I so strongly believe it has helped me thus far. As always take it or leave it. There is no wrong or right way. There is ONE difference between being a victim and being a survivor if you've lived through trauma and are here today to read this. It is not the severity of the trauma or length of exposure. It's one simple thing. That thing that controls how you end up is..choice. Only you can decided if

A Marines firearm is a lot like a woman's hair. It's an extension of them. Somewhere along the line it in many ways, defines them. My husband was a Marine for twenty years. I was lucky enough to share a life with him through most of his career. He was taught that his first job as a Marine was to be a rifleman. That is a Marines most basic function. So, threatening to take their firearm is no more life altering than to tell a woman shes going to lose her hair. The idea isn't just a loss of a possession. It can feel as daunting as a complete loss of identity. My husband spent the second half of his career battling something no one could see. I may have been the only one who saw the changes in him. When I asked him about it he just said he was ready for retirement. Against my better judgment I accepted the excuse offered. In hindsight I guess I would rather face that prospect than to wrap my mind around the truth. Its funny how we can trick ourselves into believing the less

I haven't blogged in forever. I have a lot to catch up on but right now I have to share this insane but completely TRUE story. It's just that good. There is a small strip mall just down the street from my house. In the strip mall there are several businesses but, the only two that matter for this story are the beauty salon and the medical Marijuana dispensary.  One evening a few months ago the hair salon in this strip had a "mixer". With a little too many cocktails. A couple of the dispensary employees happened to be outside on a break to witness a drunk woman stumbling around the parking lot and get in her CAR .  The moment she pulled out of the lot she hit a man driving a motorcycle. It was a bad one. When the police arrived the drunk lady tried to lie to the police by saying she had just left the dispensary. She was not drunk but high. She was trying to cover for the salon owners because a salon can only serve so much alcohol to clients legally.  Well, they m