It’s a beautiful day to leave me alone.

Thanksgiving has come and gone. Where were you? Who were you spending your Thanksgiving with? Where was your spirit? I’m conditioned to be jealous, even though you are dead, I am jealous thinking you gave someone else your energy.

Keep smiling, don’t let anyone know what you are thinking. This is what I told myself. Don’t ruin anyone else’s holiday, after all remember, it’s not about you or your loss. Don’t forget that. Yup, that was trapped up in my silly head.

I cried myself to sleep that night. Thanksgiving.

“Just think of all the things you should be thankful for.” “I don’t understand why you would dwell on this, you are here, your boys need you.” “You were divorced. Why are you taking this so hard.” Thank you people. Thank you for your fucking expert opinions and unsolicited comments, y’all should be thankful I didn’t smack the stupid out of your fucking mouth after you said that to me.

Roller coaster grief. That is what I started to experience. I felt super pissed on Thanksgiving. I was so mad at Lorick for being gone. I kept asking why? Why didn’t you take care of yourself? He was so hyper focused on me and criticizing my life choices. He created a narrative about me that I believe allowed him to escape taking care of himself and his health. I would tell him to stop focusing on me wrecking myself and focus on him wrecking himself with his life choices. Dam it Lorick. You sure did wreck yourself.

My anger at him and absolute saddness prompted me to re-read the text messaging between us from November 4th. It only perpetuated my anger towards him. I shared them with my sister. I read them out loud. Hearing myself repeat the words Lorick used to hurt me. It crushed me. Why did he have to hurt me like that? I suppose I gave him permission, and I clearly participated in the relationship, over and over.

As I re-read those texts, I became furious. How dare he bait me like that. How dare he get mad at me for not picking him up hours before he died. How dare he blame me for not being there for him. Where the fuck was he when I needed him the most?! He did not set me up for success that night. Not after his hurtful text message Friday morning. I was finally sticking up for myself, giving myself a break and self harmony. BOOM. He blew that right out of the water. Honestly just writing this now makes me want to scream at the top of my lungs.

My mind was all over the place. Self doubt sat on my shoulders. I am sure I wore it on my face. I felt worthless. Kidnapped in the middle of the night and woke up on that shitty good for nothing Ex-Wife Island. Fuck.

I kept asking, ‘Where are you?!’ What I need to ask is, where am I? Who am I?

I am Deni, Denice, Ex-Wife of Lorick Fanning. Most importantly, it’s not all about me. Nope, not at all. Don’t forget your place. You divorced him.

Lorick’s ashes were scattered, spread at 2TI the day after Thanksgiving. I found out the begining of December from a friend of both of ours. Our friend is one of the owning partners of 2TI.

Grace. Daily grace.