“A Flood Of Emotions”

Isn’t it funny how one random moment in your day can bring back a flood of emotions from a moment in your past? I had such a moment yesterday…and for just an hour or so it allowed a literal flood of pain and heartache from my past.

And I want to share it with you because if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this: when I write from the heart and share my most intimate emotions with you, it’s therapeutic for me. It takes those emotions out of my soul and puts them onto paper…and it’s truly a good thing for me. And I hope it’s a good for those of you going through a similar situation.

Yesterday the Jersey Shore suffered from a tremendous amount of rain, causing massive floods in our surrounding areas. There were those that needed to be taken from their homes and cars by boat. I didn’t go through anything that extreme but what I did go through was painful in its’ own right.

The rains hit hard in the morning and around 11 am my son, Noah, went down into our basement. I heard him say “Mom, you better get down here.”

My heart sank because I knew it wasn’t going to be good and it wasn’t: my basement was flooded. I went down the stairs and looked around. There was water everywhere and all I could focus on was the cardboard boxes filled with their favorite childhood books and memories soaked in water. I knew right then and there that we had lost all of those things we felt “important.” Water was everywhere and I was overwhelmed with where to even start.

Yet I knew in my heart where to start and it was to start throwing things out.

And through the hours that my youngest, Sam, and I filled one garbage bag after another with their childhood memories I began to think of a time in my life over 7 years ago when I was going through another time of throwing my “memories” in the trash.

It was over 7 years ago that I was getting out of a second marriage that never should have happened. At that time I had lost the house I designed, built and lived in for over 20 years. I lost my home, my car, and all the money the kids and I had saved up over the years. That second marriage cost me more than I could say. I remember two dumpsters in my driveway for two weeks as the kids and I threw out as much as we could, knowing that we were moving to a much smaller house.

I can remember the heartache of throwing out things that had meant so much to me and to them but we didn’t have much choice. The home we lived in was so much larger than the home we were moving to and still live in. I had to keep telling myself that it was just “stuff” and that I could take the memories with me.

It was a painful time to lose literally everything I had…that we had…yet we did it. And we moved into our “Cozy Cottage.”

And we were fine. We were happy.

I moved in here with nothing. No car, no money and no job, yet we had each other and within a few weeks I had a job and another car. And we survived.

And I’ve been rebuilding my life ever since.

Yet today brought all those emotions back again and I’ll admit that I shed a few tears as I filled garbage bag after garbage bag with yet more memories. It was tough and I felt overwhelmed. I kept filling bags of their favorite children’s books to stuffed animals, one right after another, and Sam just kept bringing them up the stairs and out the door to the trash. It wasn’t the exact “Mother/Son” day I would have planned.

But we did it and there’s still another couple of days to finish up the task.

Yet after my tears spilled of another time of throwing out things that meant something to me, I began to pull myself together and remind myself that they are just the possessions, just the “stuff” that we had compiled for many years. Throwing the stuff out didn’t erase the memories…it just got rid of the physical stuff, but it will never erase the emotional stuff we gained from the years we had it.

Life is a funny thing sometimes. There comes a moment in all our lives that brings back a moment from the past, and oftentimes it’s a painful memory. Yet we seemed to have learned from the past that when those sad memories come back we know better…we feel the pain, the sadness, and the heartache and let it go much sooner than we had in the past. Sometimes we need to be reminded of the things that we had tried to forget because we shouldn’t forget anything…we should learn from it, accept it and move forward.

Because, after all, we don’t ever lose the precious moments we have of our children or loved ones; they are embedded in our minds and hearts forever. The physical possession is a wonderful thing to have but losing it doesn’t erase what our heart holds deep inside.

Our hearts take pictures of those moments in life that mean the most and no flood, no fire, and no one person can ever take that away.

And it’s a good thing.

Wishing you love and light,

~Anne Dennish~

piglet flood 1

“My Voice Is In My Writing”

just for today

There’s so much in my heart right now and so many thoughts in my head. I want to talk to someone and let it all out, yet it seems lately that no one wants to listen. No one wants to hear my thoughts and feelings, no one wants to hear my truth. I need to ramble, to vent, to let it all out, yet it’s all tucked inside me and it’s driving me crazy.

Talking to someone is my way of figuring things out; what I’m feeling, what I’m thinking and why. Talking helps me to get it out and hear it in a new perspective; talking to someone allows them to be a gift that I need at times: a different perspective or a voice of reason.

Yet no one is listening and I find myself literally drowning in my own thoughts, in my own heartache. I find myself feeling alone and unable to feel love or happiness. Losing two loved ones in a short amount of time last month had a profound affect on me. I always appreciate each new day that life has to offer, yet when a life is suddenly taken and you’re not ready for it and didn’t see it coming, it certainly changes you.

And it changed me.

I’m sure the changes are temporary, but lately I’m not sure…I’m not sure of anything. What I need most right now is a listening ear and someone who can allow me the time to heal, the time to figure this all out, and who can do it with love and compassion.

I’m a strong person and I’ve been through worse than this, but something is different this time and I can’t seem to put my finger on it. I’m a spiritual person who understands death and knows that all these emotions are simply things coming to the surface; that this was all meant to happen this way and at this time.

There’s a lesson coming from all of it and I know I can’t rush it along. I know I need to be patient and realize that this journey I’m on now is leading me to another chapter in my life, one that will be different and better.

I know  in my heart that it’s not just the loss of two loved ones that is causing this; it’s so much bigger than that and so much more.

I’m standing outside of myself as a spectator, observing all that is and isn’t in my life right now. I’m understanding that I have put so much time and effort in to loving those in my life that I forgot to love myself as well. And I know to my toes that in order for someone to love me the way I need to be loved, I have to love myself that way first.

One of the greatest blessings of being a writer is just this: that when my voice can’t be heard, it can be read in what I write. When no one wants to listen to me, someone may want to read about me. My words are my heart and soul, whether they’re spoken or written, yet I know they need to speak out loud.

But they can’t.

Not right now.

Not until someone thinks I’m worthy and important enough to listen to, and not until I know that I am.

Wishing you love and light,

~Anne Dennish~

balance my darling