Do we cycle together?

Here’s an interesting question…

For us, sisters in pain (nice, huh?), do we “cycle” together? Not in the menstruation way, but I mean, are we feeling, processing, healing, lashing out, regressing, progressing at the same time because of our blogging?

I know I “feel” for many of you while reading your posts – either happiness or sadness, depending upon what’s going on in your lives. Does that impact me and my journey? Maybe!

Some posts are just too sad for me. Some are just too narcissistic or selfish and I’ve un-followed them. Some are too alt-culture for me (blame my age and lack of patience). 

But for those I follow, I relate to and can empathize with. Some of us are on similar post Dday timelines. Others have been through it longer and some are new to this shitty club.

Do we affect each other by cycling together?


I’ve been meaning to write this post for some time.

In 1986, I was working for one of the major car companies, in their national headquarters. It was near NYC and let’s repeat, it was 1986. Big hair, should pads, tacky clothing, gaudy eye shadow. Yeah, it was Working Girl in real life. I was 20-21 years old, going to college at night and working as a sales coordinator during the day. 

The office I worked in was across the office park “street” from a global airline. It was pretty laid back area, very parklike. Not hustling or bustling at all.

One day returning from lunch, there was a strange woman standing near my desk, looking out my window toward the airline building and its parking lot. She was just standing there, not saying a word, eyes out the window.

I asked her if she was meeting with one of the executives and she just shook her head. I didn’t feel scared, but rather sad for her. She looked heartbroken. 

Eventually, someone called security, but the woman decided to leave on her own accord before she was escorted out. No one knew her. She didn’t belong in our building. She looked lost in more ways than one.

Finally, someone older than me, a lady co-worker who was married and “worldly” (at least to a 20 y/o) surmised that the woman must have been a wife and was watching for her cheating husband, who must have worked across the street for the airline. She must have been watching who he had “lunch” with and what she looked like.

I think of of this woman now and have an affinity for her. She must have been only 10-12 years older than I was at the time. She was very pretty, slim and well dressed. Not that means a damn, but to a 20 y/o girl, she wasn’t the type of wife a cheating SOB would cheat on. What did I know! 

I remember her stance and the hollow-look in her eyes. Pure heartache. Betrayed and broken.

I wonder what happened to her…

Mother’s Day

I’ve read a few posts from fellow bloggers that didn’t have a very happy Mother’s day yesterday and for that I’m sorry. Many of us that are writing today suffered from infidelity last year and are still in the throes of reconciliation and healing. That day is a day of discovery for some, or a holiday that was either pre or post affair. It’s a big trigger day for most and many of us just wish we had a fast forward (or even better, a rewind) to go past the pain. I was feeling the same. A year ago this time, my husband started to flirt with the Evil Bitch and from this point on, I am triggering with timelines and remember back how he acted or what he said, etc.

For the last week, friends at work have asked me what my plans were for Mother’s Day and my response: I have no idea. Probably not much. I’ve heard no plans from my husband or sons. My hopes were low.

Saturday started early. J went to the grocery store to buy breakfast for the weekend (fruit, eggs, bacon, etc.). Later that afternoon we  met with another kitchen designer/developer and dealt with the shock of the $$$ for the remodel. J asked if I wanted to go out for dinner that night or stop at one of the local shopping outdoor malls (he used to buy me jewelry from a nice shop there). I said that it was up to him and that whatever he wanted to do was fine with me (in other words, I didn’t want to exert any pressure on him). We ended up buying food for a nice BBQ and spent a quiet evening at home relaxing.

The next morning, J woke up a bit earlier than I did and when I came downstairs he had my coffee ready. The sun was out, birds were literally singing out every window and the house was quiet. I was expecting the traditional homemade breakfast by him, with minor help from the boys. However, I was pleasantly surprised when he asked if I wanted to go to what is called Walkway Over the Hudson. It’s a rail bridge that was redesigned as a pedestrian bridge. It was on my list of “To Do’s” and I jumped at the idea and said, “YES!” He told me to quickly get changed and we would leave even before the boys woke up. I was so excited! When I was dressed in my comfortable workout clothes, I came downstairs and noticed a card waiting for me. It was lovely and heartfelt and perfect.

We left and went in search of a place to grab breakfast. Every place we stopped at had a line out the door. We decided to just get to the trail and figure out food after. Just at the opening to the park, there was a quaint café that seemed perfect. It was! Delicious organic breakfast with coffee a few bottles of cold water and we were ready to go!

The walk was really a lovely “stroll” and it was filled with mothers and their families. Every type of dog you can imagine, too! The demographics varied and as a major people watcher, I was in my element. Amazing tattoos, shoes, ridiculous heels (it’s about 1.5 miles each way across the river), loud, quiet, young, old, training wheels, scooters, wheel chairs with Love You Mom balloons, women with big hats, men with baseball caps. Remember I said we saw every type of dog? Largest = Bloodhound, smallest = Chihuahua, tied with Yorkie. Best pet award went to a Goth Guy walking his ferret. Yup, no joke. Too funny. Yeah, it was awesome. J and I giggled and held hands, stole kisses throughout each direction.

We got a text from my youngest, K asking where were we and when would be home. We were flippant and snarky and said NEVER! But, being responsible parents, we did tell him when. J and I were curious why he was asking specifics and I was hoping for the best!

I grabbed J’s hand on the ride home and told him that this mother’s day was perfect and that no gift would be better than spending an awesome day with him. I loved dating my husband and I felt as though we got our grove back. He beamed at me. It was just the right thing to say and it was true, from my heart to his.

About an hour or more later we got home. Both of my sons were awake and smiling. The kitchen was clean, and I mean CLEAN! and K made my favorite Guacamole and Salsa for an afternoon snack. I put my feet up, poured myself a glass of cold white wine and took a minute to be thankful. It was delicious and it couldn’t have been better. I told the boys that it meant the world to me what they did for me and I loved them. They were so pleased with themselves (rightly so). J then started preparing dinner, his homemade Chicken Parmigiana with fresh bread and salad. We ate later and relaxed watching movies and cuddling on the couch. J got this day right and all my worries and fears for how I would be treated on this Hallmark made holiday were dissolved.

I went to bed feeling tired, blessed, loved and in love. It was a wonderful feeling that I hope keeps building and never leaves me.