June is kind of a special month for me. I wasn’t born in June. I didn’t get married in June. None of my babies were born in June. But… It’s still a special month for me. Over the next 10 days I’m going to take a little departure from my usual quirky, sarcastic, often cringe worthy posts and invite you all on a little adventure with me. I call it: 10 DAYS FOR 10 YEARS. I know you have no clue what the heck the past 10 years could mean for me. It’s been an interesting journey. Quite a blessing, really. I’m a writer. I journal and I save those journals. I’ve written in a journal/diary/memory keeper/ since I was in the 6th grade.You would be amazed by some of the adventures those pages contain.Through my memory keeping, I discovered a great sense of faith.I always believed that my faith would see me through dark times.I just never really imagined they could be so dark. I’m a Christian and I believe in God and the journey I hope you’ll take with me over the next 10 days really taps into my faith. I hope you have the courage to join me…
I had a bit of a fairytale wedding.
The oldest and only girl in an Italian family…
I wore my momma’s wedding dress.
My daddy walked me down the aisle.
All four of my brothers participated.
A wedding party of 14.
A guest list of 400.
I’m sure you can fill in the blanks of awesomeness that my wedding entailed! You know what? Lemme just show you ….
Little did I know a year later I’d be contemplating divorce and death.
August 14th, 2000
…The only place I find happiness is in romance novels and fictitious men who fight for their women.
And provide for them once they’ve been swept off their feet…
I feel trapped and afraid that this is how life will be.I feel like a failure contemplating therapy and even worse… divorce.I’m tired of trying and so close to just giving up.
Lord, what do you want me to do?
I felt the pea sized lump right where my leg meets my rear end in June or July of 1999.By August of 2000 the lump had grown from a pea to a golf ball. A day after I wrote the above entry Mark called me at work and said he couldn’t live this way.I either made an appointment to have the lump removed and biopsied or he wouldn’t be home that night.
I really did contemplate just letting him leave, but my mom said, “Mindy, that’s your husband and he deserves better than that.”I called and made an appointment for the removal.The next morning, August 15th, I went to the doctor’s office with my mom and had the bump removed.