For Everything There is a Season

"In order to write about life, first you must live it." ~ Ernest Hemingway

Category: love (Page 4 of 4)

The Eye of the Tiger: Guest Blog by Chuck Myers

February 18, 2012 / / 10 Comments

It was perhaps a month ago that Chris asked me if I’d be interested in being a “guest blogger” on her site. Having a huge ego, I of course agreed, as her followers have grown exponentially this year! (Of course, I only agreed if I could post it without any edits, as well!) I’ve been tossing around a few ideas in my head since that time, but the events of the past few weeks have led me to settle on this one…

Tigers…they’ve fascinated me ever since before I can remember. A stuffed vinyl tiger was one of my first toys, and I still have it today (Thanks Mom!). They’re the animal I want to see when I visit a zoo, and I have one on my right arm. It’s one of my dreams to be able to actually touch one some day; just to feel the aura of an animal that some cultures believe has magical or supernatural powers.

If you look up tigers as a zodiac symbol, you’ll find a huge amount of information, and while the Internet can provide you with nearly as much misinformation as accurate information, there are some traits that are present on almost every site you find.

Tigers are somewhat unpredictable, passionate in their relationships, and capable of great generosity.  They are symbols of strength, tenacity, and bravery.

Chris is my tiger.

Certainly, she is sometimes unpredictable, and I think that’s a wonderful thing in a relationship. I don’t think there’s anything worse for a relationship than predictability.  Of course I believe that you need to be able to count on your partner, but knowing just what’s going to happen all of the time leads to the kind of ennui that will kill your relationship.

Passionate…Chris is passionate about everyone she connects with, and sometimes too much so.  It’s a wonderful thing for family, though, as well as for the projects and causes she takes on.

But it’s the strength, tenacity and bravery that really sing to me when I think of Christine.

It takes a lot of strength to not only face this autoimmune disorder she’s saddled with, but to fight it through any and all means available to her.  She has fought it (and continues to fight it) with traditional western medicine, and a plethora of physicians in all specialties.  She fights it with eastern medicine, and what many call alternative methods, such as acupuncture and massage. She fights it with what some people might call drastic dietary changes, exercise when possible, and adapting her lifestyle so that she can continue to be the person that she is.  It takes a strong person to hear “no” a thousand times, and persevere.  It takes strength not only to deal with the disorder, but the treatment.  It takes strength to fight the swings that the medications attempt to impose on your moods, so that you don’t hurt the ones you love.

Tenacity…You can’t even begin to doubt it in Chris.  It takes a tenacious personality to work their way through the medical system we have in this country, to try to find the right people to help you.  Five rheumatologists, three eye doctors, unknown numbers of primary care practitioners, ob-gyns, and emergency room physicians head the list. It takes long hours driving to Boston, Springfield, and Hartford to see the right people; people that might know something about this little-known disorder.

It takes tenacity to wade through the morass of bureaucracy that tries to keep you from getting the help you need, including insurance companies, health insurers, and state and federal agencies.

Bravery?  I haven’t met too many people who can outdo her in this department.  Through the myriad of symptoms, she keeps fighting to maintain her relationships, and to keep doing the things she deems important to keep her the person that she is.  The symptoms that appear she meets head on, and develops plans to deal with them.  She fights this thing with everything she’s got, and then some.

Then of course, there are the little things, like injecting herself in her abdomen.  I may be a lot bigger than she is, but she’s a lot braver!

Strength…Tenacity…Bravery…all great things!

But the best thing about tigers…They’re cats…They always land on their feet.

Chris is my tiger, and I know that she’ll do the same!

Going to the Chapel

December 28, 2011 / / 8 Comments
“I will never, ever get married again. EVER!” ~ Me

Those were the words I was uttering about two years ago. I wasn’t just saying them in anger or frustration due to the fact that I had finally extricated myself from a very lousy nine year marriage. I meant them with every fiber of my being. I wasn’t against falling in love again at some point in the future, but I was making a lot of effort to put my life back together so I could become the person that I wanted to be. My plans did not include joining myself with another person for the rest of my life again, especially when I could have a great life without a partner or husband; which by the way, I still believe can be done!

As is true for most things in this life, we never account for the unexpected as we go along on our journey. My unexpected was Chuck. This incredible, loving, gentle soul who literally just popped up in my life at a time I never expected and in a place that I certainly never expected to find the one true love of my life. And I don’t use that phrase lightly. He is my one true love. The one I feel that God has meant for me to always be with. And I know without a doubt that I am his. It just took us longer than most to find each other.

I have known since the day that Chuck and I did something together just the two of us, walking Molly at the state school, that I did not want to spend a single day without him in my life. But what most people are not aware of is that our journey to this proposal has been a challenging one at times. Like every other couple, we face obstacles and one of those obstacles was one that we  had to struggle through together before we decided on the commitment of marriage. We have both done this marriage thing before and I am a firm believer that all those tough questions have to be dealt with before two people get to the altar. It’s a good feeling to now be able to sit back and look forward to this marriage without any reservation or doubt. It’s an even better feeling to know that there is nothing we cannot get through.

So how did it happen? On Christmas Eve, at home, we continued our tradition (a very new tradition!) of exchanging one Christmas present. He opened the photography book I got him and then he handed me a small box. A jewelry box. But I still did not think it was an engagement ring. I figured it was a charm for my Pandora bracelet, a pair of earrings, or a regular ring. There was a variety of reasons for my naivety, including the fact that my mind was elsewhere and did not register the possibility that he was going to propose. We were in the midst of celebrating Christmas and we had a duet we were singing for church service that night. I was very distracted to say the least.

So I opened that small white box and there it was. This beautiful diamond ring, one of the most stunning things I have ever seen. As I was looking at it, Chuck got down on one knee and put the ring on my finger. A perfect fit. He never said a word. He didn’t have to. Neither did I. Sometimes you don’t need words….

As we told our family and friends the wonderful news, it still took me some time to absorb what had happened. I was in a state of shock and I think that some people interpreted that as meaning I was caught off guard because we had not discussed marriage. That wasn’t it at all. We had discussed it. The shock was more about the fact that I wasn’t expecting the ring at that moment, on that day; one of the most joyous days of the year.

Some of the shock this past weekend for me also had to do with coming to terms with how drastically my life has changed over the past few years. I sit back and think to myself: how did I get here? At what point did my life turn around so much that I am now capable of fully loving someone, fully receiving their love in return, and creating a life for myself that is fulfilling? How did I become so blessed?

It has been an emotional few days since the proposal. Seeing my brother cry, hearing the excitement in Chuck’s mother’s voice, and experiencing the pure joy of so many people who love us. For those people who have been by my side over the past five years during one crisis after another, the joy of this engagement has been an opportunity for them to celebrate a love that has been life altering for me, for both of us. I would say that this engagement is the beginning of a wonderful life together but truth be told, it is really a continuation of the wonderful life we already have…

Photos: Courtesy of Chuck Myers

Love Notes

September 25, 2011 / / 3 Comments

He admits when he thinks he is wrong.

He forgives me when I am wrong.
He has made me realize that my sarcasm can hurt and that I need to use it a little more judiciously.
He gets up in the middle of the night to put in a relaxing movie and rub my joints when I can’t sleep from the pain.
He has taught me that age is just a number and that you are never told old to find your one true love, whether it be when you are 39 or even at 53.
He knows that words can hurt and therefore never resorts to name calling in an argument or at any other time.
He rarely raises his voice, especially since he knows it freaks me out.
He understands the value of honesty.
He is not only a good definition of the word “father” but exemplifies what it means to be a “dad”.
He encourages my dreams.
He loves and appreciates my body no matter what size it is but yet supports me in my quest to lose weight and become healthier.
He doesn’t like hospitals but he sits there and holds my hand.
He understands the art of compromise.
He knows when not to ask questions and just let me cry.
He understands the importance of my friends in my life.
He treats my family like they matter and not as a burden.
He showers me with affection.
He makes me want to be a gentler and more patient woman as well as just an overall better human being.
He inspires me to not settle for less than I am worth.
He has shown me that if a man truly wants to be with you, he WILL wait.
He reminds me of what is really important in this world.
He is a lesson to me that relationships and true love are hard work sometimes, but that the tough parts make us stronger.
He doesn’t run when the going gets tough or when I think he would be better off if he did.
He is living proof that all the “good ones” aren’t taken.
He makes me realize that I can love someone who is not perfect and that maybe I need to examine some of my unrealistic expectations.
He makes me think.
He never lets a day go by without making me laugh.
He has proven to me that love truly should not hurt.
He has helped me learn how to live more fully and has taught me that nothing is impossible, especially with love.
1 Corinthians 13


If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.  If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing.  If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.  It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.  Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.  It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.


Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part,  but when completeness comes, what is in part disappears.  When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me.  For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.


And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

Summer of Friendship…Summer of Love

July 1, 2011 / / 11 Comments

You know how you can smell a scent and it reminds you of a place, a time, or a person? Sometimes you may even smell it and not remember where you noticed it before, but you remember that the feelings you had when you last noticed it were good. I hugged my boyfriend one day recently and that happened to me. He was wearing a scent that brought back feelings of comfort and security for me. OK, and attraction too. But where had I noticed it before? So I asked him….

It is the scent that always brings me back to last summer. The summer that was originally shaping up to be one of my worst ones and instead, ended up being one of the best ones. I don’t know the name of the scent but I know he still has it and it always reminds me of him and of the summer that brought us together.

It was the last weekend in June last summer that it all kind of began, for me anyways. It was the weekend of the American Cancer Society’s Relay for Life and like many years previously, I was signed up to participate with a team from my church. Things had been crazy that week leading up to the relay with my health. Sure enough, the Friday of the relay, I was on my way to the emergency room just praying I would make it to Boston in one piece. I was having a difficult time with my breathing due to an autoimmune disorder. A fun six hours in a Boston emergency room resulted in a three day hospital stay. When I was discharged, things were still looking shaky. All of my immediate summer plans got cancelled and I was looking forward to at least a few weeks of extensive reading and some serious movie watching. Between that and a pretty intense round of steroids, I was not a happy camper.

At the risk of sounding melodramatic, my life changed after that weekend though. It was the first time I had been hospitalized while living by myself with my dog and I had to make adjustments. I needed more help for a short while. I had to count on some people I didn’t even realize I could count on, especially when it came to caring for my dog.

And then there was him, and the scent. We had one or two conversations before that weekend. I cannot lie; I had noticed him so many times before. Something about him drew me in, wanting to know him. But I was too busy being involved with the wrong man per usual and in the days following my hospitalization, that whole situation blew up and ended. When it did, I was done with men, dating, the whole nine yards. I was too sick to care and I had big plans for as soon as I felt better. I was going to start taking better care of myself, start seriously writing, and spend as much time as possible with my friends and family. Life was just too short to waste it investing my energy and time into people that were not worth it.

Best laid plans, right? All of a sudden he was there, right by my side. I had convinced myself that showering, dressing, and driving myself the two minutes to church the week after I got out of the hospital was a good idea. I barely got through the service and went to sit down to talk with a friend during lemonade hour. It was summer so it was lemonade instead of coffee! He came over to me, kneeled down, and asked me how I was. He offered to bring some of his video collection for me to church the next Sunday so I had more to keep me occupied at home. We really didn’t know each other much at all; yet he extended himself to me in the most caring and compassionate way. I more than noticed him then.

Problem though: I was done with men. And to be honest, I thought he was just trying to be nice. People at our church are like that: nice, kind, and compassionate. Of course he would be no different. Plus what would he see in me? Because really, I probably never looked more pathetic or sickly at church than that first month out of the hospital. We were friends on Facebook as well so he knew my health issues. He knew my age. He knew I had been dating. He knew I liked country music. Hell, he should have been running the other way!

He did bring those movies he promised me the following Sunday though and we talked a bit more. And the Sunday after that and the Sunday after that. So it grew. As the weeks went by, our conversations by the lemonade pitcher grew longer and longer; oftentimes we closed the place down. I loved talking with him. I loved just being near him. We joke about that now, you know, the whole pheronome theory of attraction. Apparently many people around us knew what was happening before I even did. I was in self- protection mode, but yet that didn’t stop me from listening for his voice every time a church usher would say good morning to my turned back. And he always smelled the same, that comforting cologne smell. The one that even now, reminds me of how I hate being away from him for too long.

As the weeks dragged by, I started to get better and he was still there. Now I had a problem though because his presence was becoming quite distracting to me at church. I remember a particular conversation with a friend from church where she mentioned something significant that was said during the service the day before. I had missed the whole thing. It was important and I felt terrible. It was his fault though. That day before, he had come and sat right next to me in church for the first time and having him so close, while smelling so good, drove me over the edge of distraction.

Labor Day weekend finally came around and after closing down the church one last time as just Sunday buddies, we somehow worked out a plan to go for a walk with my dog the next day. That, as they say, is all she wrote. Summer ended. I found my best friend. I fell in love. And even now, sitting here by myself in a cafe, I still can smell in my mind his lingering scent.

The Hallmark Holiday

February 14, 2011 / / 0 Comments

“I don’t understand why Cupid was chosen to represent Valentine’s Day. When I think about romance, the last thing on my mind is a short, chubby toddler coming at me with a weapon.” ~Author Unknown

OK, Valentine’s Day is just a terrible holiday. I am not sure exactly when I began to feel so strongly about this fact but I do. My personal feelings mostly revolve around the fact that it is a commercial holiday aimed at draining our wallets and making us question our worthiness depending on whether we have an actual “valentine” or not.

My views on this even surprise me as I tend to be a glass half-full/embrace happiness as much as possible type of person. I’m a romantic. I’m emotional. But to me, the problem with Valentine’s Day is that it sends a message that love has to be romantic. How many commercials on TV do you see with a woman celebrating a loving friendship with a female friend? Or a son expressing his love for his mother? I know, I know, you can find cards for this type of thing in the Hallmark section such as “To My Parents on Valentine’s Day” but the reality is, that isn’t what the intended purpose of Valentine’s Day is in our society today. Maybe part of my issue with the day is that it is telling me this is the day I should be expressing my love for my partner when in actuality, I try (and most of the time succeed!) in doing that every single day.

So on February 14th, you fall into one of two traps: the single person who is left figuring out if they should spend the holiday in a bottle of scotch or a pint of ice cream. Or you could be the person in a relationship trying to make sure that you don’t screw up. All of a sudden, the decision between roses, candy, and jewelry becomes overwhelming on this one day of the year. More often than not, it becomes a challenge to live up to the expectations.

This initially presented quite a dilemma to me this year because I am in love, real love. Like the kind that makes every day a joyous experience and more often than not, makes me wonder how I got through the last 39 years without him. All of a sudden, this year, it became ever MORE important to bypass Valentine’s Day because as dorky as this sounds, it felt like it would take something away from every other day of the year, which are just as much like Valentine’s Day should be as February 14th pretends to be.

He makes me chicken soup when I am sick. He sends e-mails from work in the middle of the day. He surprises me with mystery dates. He holds my hand at funerals. He listens to me rant and rave (even about Valentine’s Day!). He encourages my dreams. He knows when to hold me. He knows when to give me space. Even though he wanted to and knew I would go along with it, he volunteered to not celebrate Valentine’s Day; knowing how strongly I feel about it. I know that many people can celebrate Valentine’s Day and still show their love for each other at other times during the year but for me, not making a big deal out of February 14th means that February 15th (and even September 15th) will be something to look just as forward to….

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