Is it possible to go from an abusive household with no role modeling for healthy relationship skills and have a successful marriage?
I can’t answer for anyone else. I can only say, for us, it was not a given, no matter how much we loved each other.
Is it even relevant?
What do you say about the issues in your early years of marriage, when you are writing about them from 40+ years out? From having navigated struggles and joys, successes, near-death episodes, and all that life can throw at you? When I think of who we were back then compared to now, we were almost more like strangers.
Priorities, “triage,” and setting up the “base camp”
For any successful team to operate, there must be an agreed-upon set of rules and priorities. And Ed and I were a team. So, during this “adult” phase, we had five priorities:
Sitting at the dining room table, I stared across the room and studied my husband’s face. He was seated at the desk in the living room, speaking on the phone. I watched every expression for a hint as to the “bottom line” of this call. The conversation seemed pleasant. The call was brief.
Hanging up the phone (Yes, this is before cell phones), Ed turned to me and said,
“Well, the job in North Carolina is ours if we want it….Do we want it?”
Never has there been more of a pregnant pause between us…not even the time I called him when I was actually pregnant….
It was the summer of 1985. I had resumed the dating service and met several generally nice men. I say “generally” because a few were just “non-starters,” but certainly not harmful.
There was the divorced man who spent all of our supper date talking about his ex-wife. No, thank you.
And the one who kept calling me to arrange to meet, but could never quite figure out if he wanted to because he also wanted to go play paintball with his friends. After several rounds of this, I told him to go play paintball and stop calling.
But the absolute “best” of the non-starters was the computer engineer who worked in the same company my father had. We met for lunch at a burger place. I’d been running around all morning and skipped breakfast, so when we met up, I was ready for my burger and fries.
As we talked, or rather, I TRIED to start a conversation, I made short work of my lunch. He was rather …aloof? No matter what I asked, it was one or two-word answers. I mentioned that my father worked at the same company that he did.
No response. Oh, he did note that I had finished my lunch quickly and said, “Gee, you eat a lot.”
After the chaos of the winter months of 1984, I’d like to say things quieted down, and I could then just proceed in therapy to full healing and live happily ever after. For sure, at the time I thought it worked that way — if I worked REALLY hard, fast, and fiercely, I could get over all of this quickly and be “normal” and healed. That statement alone indicates just how far from understanding myself and the situation, I really was.
Yes, I had stabilized and was no longer suicidal. And that was no small achievement. But it just meant I had finally landed at the bottom of that abyss, the crash hadn’t killed me, and I was now standing upright on two legs facing a mountain whose top was obscured by a heavy bank of clouds. I had no idea then just how high that mountain was or that I would still be climbing it today.
So today is the last day of 2025. And on that note, an especially gentle touch as we go into the New Year. I will be resuming regular postings in the next day or two. But for now:
Today’s Gift Quote:
“You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have the right to be here.” – Max Ehrmann from Desiderata: A Poem for a Way of Life
My “gift posts”
While I am away from my desk, I will leave “daily gift posts” for all.
When I return, I will resume my memoir posts.
In the meantime, a reminder of the purpose of this blog:
This blog is my way of honoring what I lived through and had to do to reach “today” in as healthy a way as possible.
The posts here tell the story of the pain I’ve carried because my life was not whole.
It wasn’t whole because I’ve had so many questions and no answers. All I’ve had was the confusion of a lifetime, because so much of my life was in broken fragments I could not make sense of.
So this blog, which I hope to form into a memoir for publication, is my journey to find answers. It is my way to piece the fragments back together, see the whole picture, and find the understanding that brings healing.
While I write for myself, I am also writing to give to anyone else who wants it, an example of this kind of journey. It is not the only way, but it is my way.
And I write to bear witness to the pain of so many others harmed by abuse of any kind, especially for those who can’t tell their story…or those who didn’t live to tell their story.
Lastly, I offer it all here in the hope that it helps another not to feel alone as they do their own life’s work.
“Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day. You shall begin it serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson
My “gift posts”
While I am away from my desk, I will leave “daily gift posts” for all.
When I return, I will resume my memoir posts.
In the meantime, a reminder of the purpose of this blog:
This blog is my way of honoring what I lived through and had to do to reach “today” in as healthy a way as possible.
The posts here tell the story of the pain I’ve carried because my life was not whole.
It wasn’t whole because I’ve had so many questions and no answers. All I’ve had was the confusion of a lifetime, because so much of my life was in broken fragments I could not make sense of.
So this blog, which I hope to form into a memoir for publication, is my journey to find answers. It is my way to piece the fragments back together, see the whole picture, and find the understanding that brings healing.
While I write for myself, I am also writing to give to anyone else who wants it, an example of this kind of journey. It is not the only way, but it is my way.
And I write to bear witness to the pain of so many others harmed by abuse of any kind, especially for those who can’t tell their story…or those who didn’t live to tell their story.
Lastly, I offer it all here in the hope that it helps another not to feel alone as they do their own life’s work.
“The greatest thing in the world is to know how to belong to oneself.” – Michel de Montaigne
My “gift posts”
While I am away from my desk, I will leave “daily gift posts” for all.
When I return, I will resume my memoir posts.
In the meantime, a reminder of the purpose of this blog:
This blog is my way of honoring what I lived through and had to do to reach “today” in as healthy a way as possible.
The posts here tell the story of the pain I’ve carried because my life was not whole.
It wasn’t whole because I’ve had so many questions and no answers. All I’ve had was the confusion of a lifetime, because so much of my life was in broken fragments I could not make sense of.
So this blog, which I hope to form into a memoir for publication, is my journey to find answers. It is my way to piece the fragments back together, see the whole picture, and find the understanding that brings healing.
While I write for myself, I am also writing to give to anyone else who wants it, an example of this kind of journey. It is not the only way, but it is my way.
And I write to bear witness to the pain of so many others harmed by abuse of any kind, especially for those who can’t tell their story…or those who didn’t live to tell their story.
Lastly, I offer it all here in the hope that it helps another not to feel alone as they do their own life’s work.
“Sometimes the most productive thing you can do is relax.” Anon
My “gift posts”
While I am away from my desk, I will leave “daily gift posts” for all.
When I return, I will resume my memoir posts.
In the meantime, a reminder of the purpose of this blog:
This blog is my way of honoring what I lived through and had to do to reach “today” in as healthy a way as possible.
The posts here tell the story of the pain I’ve carried because my life was not whole.
It wasn’t whole because I’ve had so many questions and no answers. All I’ve had was the confusion of a lifetime, because so much of my life was in broken fragments I could not make sense of.
So this blog, which I hope to form into a memoir for publication, is my journey to find answers. It is my way to piece the fragments back together, see the whole picture, and find the understanding that brings healing.
While I write for myself, I am also writing to give to anyone else who wants it, an example of this kind of journey. It is not the only way, but it is my way.
And I write to bear witness to the pain of so many others harmed by abuse of any kind, especially for those who can’t tell their story…or those who didn’t live to tell their story.
Lastly, I offer it all here in the hope that it helps another not to feel alone as they do their own life’s work.
“There’s no need to be perfect to inspire others. Let people get inspired by how you deal with your imperfections”.
Ziad K. Abdelnour
My “gift posts”
While I am away from my desk, I will leave “daily gift posts” for all.
When I return, I will resume my memoir posts.
In the meantime, a reminder of the purpose of this blog:
This blog is my way of honoring what I lived through and had to do to reach “today” in as healthy a way as possible.
The posts here tell the story of the pain I’ve carried because my life was not whole.
It wasn’t whole because I’ve had so many questions and no answers. All I’ve had was the confusion of a lifetime, because so much of my life was in broken fragments I could not make sense of.
So this blog, which I hope to form into a memoir for publication, is my journey to find answers. It is my way to piece the fragments back together, see the whole picture, and find the understanding that brings healing.
While I write for myself, I am also writing to give to anyone else who wants it, an example of this kind of journey. It is not the only way, but it is my way.
And I write to bear witness to the pain of so many others harmed by abuse of any kind, especially for those who can’t tell their story…or those who didn’t live to tell their story.
Lastly, I offer it all here in the hope that it helps another not to feel alone as they do their own life’s work.
Soul Mosaic 