Today is a perfect September Sunday. The blue sky spans bright and cloudless. The morning air hints of the chill that is about to come as the month turns from Summer to Autumn. My life is not perfect now--not by a long shot. But when I think of where I was a year ago, I have to feel grateful.
September and particularly Labor Day weekend has always been a bittersweet time for me. I got married September 3, 1983--Labor Day weekend. I got divorced on September 11, 1995.
I think of the day I watched the Twin Towers fall from my penthouse window in Stamford, CT on September 11, 2001. I met my boyfriend, Joe, on September 23, 2007, the first day of Autumn. For me, the month of September has always signified memories of endings or beginnings.
This September is no exception. A week ago, I spent the day with my boyfriend of two years, my dear
Joe-Joe. We had lunch along the Long Island Sound, last Sunday, watching boats sail by. He stood by me throughout my cancer journey. But last Monday morning, he packed his bags and left.
However, he left for a good reason. He has battled hard with alcholism for a long time. Even though he went to rehab last April, he started drinking again two weeks ago. So he felt it was best to move to a sober house and concentrate on himself. Last Friday, he said he wasn't coming back to live with me, but would call me from time to time to tell me how he was doing as he struggled toward recovery.
At first I was angry, mad, How could he have deserted me? But then I realized God had given him to me when I really needed him. I will never forget his unflagging support when I needed it most. Now I'm on my way, I'm fine, but he's not. He has bottomed out and I can't bail him out anymore, I was doing that all summer. It wasn't working for him or me.
I've chosen to be grateful for the time that we had. The future of our relationship is a big question mark. But I honor his decision to do what he must in order to stay sober. He has a lot of work ahead of him. That said, I have no choice but to carry on without him. Sitting here on a beautiful Sunday alone, I can't help but miss him. I must tell myself, whatever will be will be.
Thank you God, for giving me a precious gift, my Joe, during a crucial time in my life. I don't know how I would have made it without him. Please guide him through this trying time and help him on the path toward sobriety. Thy will, not mine, will be done.
Once I hit 47 years old, I realized many of my contemporaries were losing either their mom or their dad. As each year passed, it seemed like...
Social Security Disability Benefits and Breast Cancer According to the American Cancer Society, breast cancer is the second most comm...
Some Antidepressants Interact with Tamoxifen Several Antidepressants Cancel Out the Anti-Estrogen Effects of Hormone Therapy By Pam Steph...