I had not realized my thread was locked until Pam IM'd me the other day, but I have been horribly busy in my other 2 full-time jobs as 'private taxicab driver' and 'skating mom' so I have not been able to log on and solve the problem by posting a new one.
My five year old daughter reminded me of an important lesson yesterday. She had a major competition and was skating in a higher group (she turned five two weeks ago, so she now skates with the big girls in the 5 to 8 years group). She did her program great during her warm up and in the exhibition three days earlier. But in the actual competition she fell while making a turn that she has mastered since she was four. She did not even blink: she jumped on her feet again and picked up her program where she had left it, and finished it totally perfect. She just cut her losses and kept on, though of course she knew she had no chance at winning by then. And she is so happy with her fifth place medal as she would have been with a first place. She even took it to school today to show her little friends.
So far, my H has not made any move to leave and keeps calling me with updates on his every movement. I am in a sort of emotional limbo (I guess that is what they call detachment) and nothing seems to touch me these days. As HoldingOn so aptly put it, I exist. Hence the title of my thread, purloined from another song...
Quote: WHAT DO I DO NOW WITH YOU?
Where do I place what I have found
in the streets, in the books, in the nights,
in the faces where I have looked in for you?
Where do I place what I have found
in the earth, in your name, in the Bible
in the day when I finally found you?
What do I tell death
so many times called to my side
that she has become my sister?
What to I tell to the empty glory
of being alone
playing sad, playing wolf?
What do I tell the dogs
that used to accompany me in lost
nights of being without friends?
What do I tell the moon,
partner I thought of nights
and nights, though she was not?
What do I do now with you?
The doves that go to sleep
to the parks no longer speak to me.
What do I do now with you?
Now that you are the moon, the dogs,
the nights, and all friends.
Tomorrow is our 13th wedding anniversary. And he remembered the date and number of years better than I did.
So, what do I do with what I've learned?
"You don't throw a whole life away just 'cause it's banged up a little"
Tom Smith in "Seabiscuit"
