The Dish by Deni

Gone, just like that. Maggie Girl.

March 3rd, 2023
“Life is too short. Smile while you have teeth.”

Maggie Girl Davis crossed the rainbow bridge 2/20/23. When you apply numerology to the date, February 20, 2023, it equals 11. 11 is known as the Angel number. Angel number 11 is a number often called ‘the messenger’ or ‘the teacher’ and it is often associated with those who have a greater purpose within their lives to provide inspiration and spiritual guidance to others. I believe Maggie served that purpose and will continue to serve as a messenger or teacher from heaven.

During her time living with us on Earth, she lived freely, happy and full of love and light. She was a sweet and special dog.

Why Maggie? I had a personal training client, Rhonda. Rhonda was an advocate for animals. She also advocated for a local animal shelter. She made it her mission to find a home for every animal residing there. She would rescue dogs, cats, you name it. In her pursuit to find a home for the animals at J.A.R.M. – AKA, Jasper Animal Rescue Mission, she encouraged me to take my boys to JARM. She insist the dogs and cats would love the visit. Ok, Rhonda, we will visit the animals. The honest truth, I did not want the responsibility of a new pet, my boys were 8, 5, and 1. I had enough to take care of at the time. But Rhonda was persistant, so the boys and I paid the shelter a visit.

On our first visit, we were told 2 puppies were outside in the shelter kennels. The puppies were about 12 weeks old. They were litter mates found in the woods with no mother in site. Staff at the kennel told us the female puppy, who they named Maxine was very timid and fearful of humans. The shelter had contenplated putting her down. The staff explained, when a dog is fearful of humans they have a tendency to bite or show aggression. Maxine seemed to have turned the corner, her disposition towards humans gradually changed, so, the shelter reconsidered her fate.

The boys and I entered her kennel. Maxine slowly approached us allowing us to pet her. “Wow” the staff said. “She hasn’t done that with anyone. Maxine clearly feels comfortable with y’all.” JARM’s policy required us to visit with her several more times before we could adopt and bring her home.

Finally, the day had come, Maxine was coming home with us. We had one little issue, her name, Maxine. My son’s name is Maxwell, and we call him Max. Maxine and Max were too similar sounding, we needed to change Maxine’s name. I did not want to confuse Maxine, so we changed her name to Maggie. Maggie Girl it is. Mags for short.

Maggie was nervous those first few days in the house. One interesting behavior Maggie presented when we got her home was fear of walking on floors. The hard wood or tile flooring seemed to be an issue for her. She was completely uncertain the floors could sustain her. For the next 13 years we did our best to limit her exposure to floors. She only had to cross over 1ft of floor to get to the living room and every single time she would start her descent we would have to offer her words of encouragement, “Come on girl, you got this, come on Maggie, good girl, you can do it!” I am not exaggerating in the least on that detail either! Maggie was that kind of special. However, when she was outside, look out! Wild and free, she was the happiest running around in our yard.

Our home is nestled back in a wooded area of our neighborhood. We live on just over an acre of land and set back off the main road. Because of our location we allowed Maggie to roam freely. For the most part she never went too far. There was an occasionally sighting of her along our dirt road, however she seemed content just staying close to home. At times, she would venture into the woods, one time bringing home a horse’s skull! On another occassion, a neighbors Guinea Hens got lose, wandering into our yard. I remember not only did Maggie nab one of those hens, she ran around chasing the others. The boys happened to be playing on their swing set when this happened. I heard them screaming “NO MAGGIE!” I looked out the window, feathers were flying through the air, hens were trying to climb the trees, it was hysterical chaos! Maggie loved to saunter over to my neighbor Barb’s house. Barb’s dogs would be in their kennel and Maggie would run past barking only 2 times and then saunter herself right on home, leaving Barb’s dogs a total barking mess! She was a trip.

I will never forget the evening of Sept. 15, 2015. We let Maggie out the back door to do her “business”. Maybe 5 minutes went by and we called for her to come in, nothing. 30 Minutes, no sign of her, and that continued through out the evening. We were hoping she would be at the door the next morning, but she was not. I posted a missing dog alert on Facebook and we hung lost dog flyers in the neighborhood. No sign of our Mags. 10 months passed by and no Maggie. We wondered what happened to her, was she hit by a car and died in the woods? Was it a snake bite, alligator? What happened to out Mags? Ben, my son, was inspired to write a little story about her vanishing. His story: Aliens came down from the sky and took her away to a new planet. Bottom line, we were all so sad she was gone.

10 months missing. I got a call from the a Vet Tech at Sea Island Animal Hospital. They asked me an unexpected question, “Do you have a dog named Maggie?” I was short on words to that question so I just responded, “I did.” They told me they had her. Someone had found her 3 months prior. The man that found her had to bring his other dogs in for a check-up, so he brought Maggie too. He told the vet’s office she had wandered into his backyard and was thin. He also told them he put flyers up but no one reached out to him, so he kept her. He took great care of her. She was well fed and loved. He told us he never thought to call animal control or take her to the vet to get scanned for a micro-chip. I know he felt badly about that but, thank goodness she had been chipped!! I rushed to the vet’s office, I was worried they had it wrong and I would have to process losing her all over again. I did not tell the boys where I was going I just told them I would be right back. I burst into the vet’s office and there she was!! Her sweet face brightened up when she saw me. MAGS!!! I started crying, a lot! They were happy tears and I could not wait to bring her home to the boys. When I got her home, they had the same reaction as I did, tears of joy. Our Maggie Girl was home.

Our Mags encountered other mishaps and adventures along her way. We would ask her to tell us her stories and she would just look at us with her bright eyes and give us a bark. She was a survivor, no question. Even surviving a cooperhead bite to the snout. Mags didn’t stay in Beaufort, she became a college girl. She traveled up to Rock Hill, SC to attend Winthrop University with Maxwell, Jackson and Anne Watts. She spread her love to all of the humans she met along her way. We will forever miss her and love her.

Maggie Girl Davis ~ 2008-2023

“A companion is gone … but the memory lives on. If the kindest souls were rewarded with the longest lives, dogs would outlive us all.”
Roll with it. Mother Runner.

February 18th, 2023

Be the reason someone smiles today. Or the reason they drink, whatever works.

A few days went by and I struggled to find a worthy past experience that would highlight what this journey of mine is all about. My journey, my path to seek my lost self worth a reminder of my value. I am looking back not at the ‘bad’ or negative situations that have impacted my decisions, but the decisions I made that have had a positive impact which molded my character to who I am and why I am me. The wonderful, unique, special me. So, in my quest for self worth and recognizing my value through past experiences, I realized I had a big one standing right in front of me, basically slapping me in the face.

RUNNING!!!!

I started ‘running’, well, probably more jogging (there is a difference) back in my early 20’s. I sucked at it. I actually did not like it at all. I only did it as a means to try and keep weight off. My distance threshold was no more than 3 miles, if that. I wasn’t very healthy in my early 20’s, so any type of exercise was difficult. I could break out into another blog story on life in my 20’s, but not today, I’ll save it for another theme.

After my first son Max was born my health and wellness became a priority. I started working at a gym which lent way to becoming a fitness instructor and personal trainer. I enjoyed the feeling that exercise gave me. We lived on an Island, Martha’s Vineyard. We also lived very close to a bike path. The bike path curved along the coast line and offered lovely views of the beach, Vineyard Sound and the main land. Any chance I could put my baby in my stoller and run, I would. But, I never went past 3 miles. I am not sure why in my head that was all I could do, but, that distance lived there for a long, long time.

My family was growing and it was time for a change, we wanted to move away from the cold winters common in New England. So, we moved from Martha’s Vineyard to Beaufort, SC. Beaufort is on the coast and offered plenty of beauty while running through out the area. My wellness career was growing and my fitness level was increasing, I wanted to push and challenge myself. I was working at the Beaufort YMCA, I started instructing a bootcamp style class with a fellow instructor, Jenny, whose husband was a Marine, and at the time deployed. We became fast friends who shared a passion for fitness. We joined forces and taught the bootcamp class together. One of the componets of our class was, running. Running became a natural progression for me. But, I still kept the distance to my safe 3 miles.

Jenny’s husband came home from his deployment in the Afghanistan. Ty, Jenny’s husband also had a passion for fitness, we decided to include him with leading our bootcamp class. Honestly it was perfect because he was the only one of us who actually went through bootcamp, it gave our class street credit.

While I was at the Y, I got a message from a client who needed to cancel her session with me that morning. Lemons, lemonade, I saw an opportunity to go for a quick run. I happened to be talking with Jenny and Ty when the message came in. I mentioned my plan to head out for a run. They were heading out for a run too and asked me to join them. “Sure, how far and where are you going?” I said. Ty replied, “Five miles today.” I paused and thought to myself, no way am I telling them I only run 3 miles. No way, it would be too embarrassing and super whimpy of me, so I just said, “ok, I’ll go with you.”

I ran 5 miles with Jenny and Ty that morning. I had actually run faster than the both of them. My running mental road block was officially over. I seriously never looked back. 5 miles became 7 miles, 10 miles, up to my half marathon debut. I ran strong, fast, I loved it. I felt powerful, confident, strong. I would get the runners high I had only heard about. I had run about 5 half marathons, some competivtive 10ks, I would place in my age group or in the overall catagory bringing home the big medal or trophy, sometimes money. Even with my increased confidence as a runner, running 26.2 miles, the distance of a marathon was not a consiseration of mine. Enter Gunny James.

Staff Sergeant Gunny James, aka, Adam James. Adam was a friend of Ty’s and also a Marine. Ty had encouraged Gunny James, (We all called him that) to come to our a Saturday bootcamp class. Gunny James was hooked. We could always count on his participation along with encouraging others in class to push themselves. After several months Gunny James got word his unit would deploy to Afghanistan and his tour would last about a year. We all kept in touch with him, I can’t remember if it was via text or messenger, but we kept in touch.

February 2011, I got a message from Gunny James. His message to me was to inform me he was going to register for the Marine Corps Marathon held in October in Washington, DC. His unit would be back in the states at the begining of September. Registration for the MCM opens in mid-February. I was reading his message and then I got to the part about me. He asked me to run the marathon with him. I don’t remember my first response, but I am sure I was hesitant. Gunny James had me figured out, clearly he observed me over the months of our bootcamp class, he knew I had a competitve drive, so he threw a challenge at me, I can not turn down a challenge. “Training won’t be hard for you” He said, “It’s not like you would be training in the desert on a base where you would have to run countless laps just to make your weekly distance, or have to take cover from possible incoming fire like I will have to do. You would just be running in the Lowcountry with plenty to look at, water stops, ect. What’s your problem? Afraid?”

Well, fuck. I guess I am signing up to run the 2011 Marine Corps Marathon.

Training for a marathon is no joke. There are a couple of running plans to properly train for a marathon runners follow. The 18 week, 16 week, or 12 week plan. The plan one would choose depends on your pre-marathon fitness level, running level. I’m going with the 16 week plan. What that means, I am starting my training program 16 weeks prior to the date of the marathon, which also means I am begining my training at the begining of July. July is usually warm and hot most places, however, living in Beaufort SC July is synonymous with very hot, humid, opressive summers that linger well into fall with little relief of cooler temps. I guess I am going to train for this dang marathon in hell. What in the world am I doing? Gunny James tricked me! Either way, I made my commitment to Gunny James, and most importantly, myself. I can do this. I have it in me. Let’s go for a run.

Gunny James came back from Afghanistan in September. We were just past the halfway point in our training and I was thrilled to have someone else to run with. Our long runs were over 15 miles, and according to the training plan we needed to hit three 20 mile distance runs before the big day. We did it, it was tough, hot, and rewarding. I discovered a new appreciation for my body and my legs. My body was power. I had power, strength, skill. No one could come close to taking that away from me. I was doing this long distance running thing, it was mine, and I owned it.

Gunny James made a pact with me. He told me he would run with me the entire race. He also told me he did not want to hold me back, he said if I felt good, I needed to just go. Our finish time goal was 3:40-3:45. The morning of the marathon was very cold and we stood around for what seemed like hours before we could even start running. I started to miss the hot as hell training conditions. We watched Marines parachute down to the start, we listened to the National Anthem, and waited for the canon to boom.

We were off.

I remember Gunny James telling me to back off my pace a bit, I was going to fast he said and he did not want me to hit “The Wall” to early. I felt good, but I understood I needed to trust his advice. I never ran 26.2 miles, he did. The route was awesome in so many ways. Every water station, aid station along the route was maned by our USMC. Gunny James was also wearing a USMC shirt and just hearing people cheering for him was exhilarating. Those spectators cheering gave me an adrenaline rush, I felt as if I was running on air. We made it to mile 16, close to the National Mall. Gunny James started to slow down. He turned to me and said, “You need to push forward. I am holding you back at this point. You only have 10 miles left, go for it. I’ll meet you at the finish.” I believed him, I knew I could do it. It was only 10 more miles. Let’s not fool ourselves, 10 miles is still a long way from done.

23 miles in, my legs were screaming at me, enough! I looked at my watch and I couldn’t believe how well I was pacing. If I kept it up I could finish 15 minutes faster than I had even thought possible. Mind over matter at this point. The mental battle was on, no way am I going to walk, or stop. The conversation in my head was heavy, maybe even silly. It’s just less than a 5k left, push yourself, go, do it, the Marines are watching you, don’t let them down. Oh and hey, Deni, don’t let yourself down, you trained for this, you are prepared.

The final stretch, War Memorial Access Rd. This is up hill. I passed people barely able to walk, I think I saw a women crawling her way to the finish. Legs don’t fail me now, I am so close to done. Just one more small push.

DONE! 26.2 miles done. I finished my first marathon in 3 hours 37 minutes. I had no idea what I was made of, what I could do and how powerful, strong, resilient of a human I am. I did it and I did it all on my own. I compare finishing this marathon to birthing my children. The immense joy it gave me I honestly don’t think words could explain. I became born again.

The 2011 was only the begining. I just qualified for the 2013 Boston Marathon.

Let’s Roll!

Roll with it
Gone, just like that. Penny from Heaven.

February 11th, 2023
To be honest, I’m just winging it….. Life, motherhood, my mascara…..everything.

January 19th, 2023

Lot’s of thinking and processing. I am thinking about me, my life, my children, what is best for all of us. I find myself in a continued state of disbelief that Lorick is gone forever. Gone from his earthly presence. Grief, it’s hard. Grief does not have an expiration date, nor a best if used by either. Grief, it sits in my cellar like wine waiting to peak. My grief, I want it to age like fine wine, I have hope and optimism that it will mature to a final release, along with dread and fear. The fear is of waiting not long enough or too long, of storing it wrong and, ultimately, of missing out on what could have been, or what once was. Just like a beautiful bouquet fine wine can possess, it is also very complex. My grief is complex.

My friend Walter, who is also a 2TI camp partner, reached out and let me know he was heading to the camp to take care of a few things. I asked him who was going with him. He said he was going alone, everyone else had prior plans. After he told me this, there was a silent pause between us. Before I opened my mouth and asked my question, I already knew the answer, but I asked anyway. “I want to go. I want to go to say hello to Lorick, to be around him. Can I go?” Walter said, “You are always invited by me, but it’s just me, and you know how people can talk.” Of course I know how people can talk! So, I started thinking of ways to make a quick one night trip in January to 2TI work… My son Ben! I could ask Ben if he and his buddies want to go out there for the night. Perfect! Problem solved. But, it wasn’t perfect or solved. Ben had a basketball game and the reality I quickly came to terms with, was I was trying to fit a square peg in a round hole. Not this time. I gave up. I was trying to force something that was not possible. I decieded to relish in knowing Walter thought of me, and Lorick.

Later that afternoon, I sent Walter a message, “Hey there, if you are out at the camp, just tell him I have been thinking about him. I hope that’s not too weird.” Walter simply responded “Nope” and followed it with a picture of the sunset.

The next morning Walter sent me a picture of a beautiful sunrise accompanied with a text message that said, “He said thank you and he is thinking of you as well.” My heart burst. It burst with all sorts of feelings, happniess, sadness, sorrow, and longing for his presence. How incredibly kind of Walter to send that message to me, tears rolled down my face after seeing the sunrise photo and having hope that my message reached Lorick.

Thank you Walter.

About 30 minutes after I got my message from Walter I left my house to head on with my day. I needed to gas up my car, so that was the first stop. I kept thinking about 2TI and Walters message, I wanted it to be true, I wanted to believe Lorick was thinking about me too. I pulled into the gas station and up to the pump, as I got out of my car I looked about 6 feet away from me and saw a dull round shape on the ground. I immediately knew it was a penny. The mason jar I threw into the river when I said my goodbyes to Lorick, included pennies and dimes, along with a note that asked him to give me a sign from time to time so I knew he was around me. I looked at this dull round object for a minute and then started talking to myself about it. (not out loud of course!) I said to myself, if this penny is dated 1970 I know for sure what Walter told me is true, he is thinking of me too. 1970 was the year Lorick was born. I approached the penny, picked it up, and bam! 1970! Tears of happiness flowed down my face, I didn’t care who saw me crying either, it was an incredible moment for me. It gave me hope. Hope that we never loose our love ones, their energy exists, we only loose their earthly presence.

Lorick, thank you for sending me a penny from heaven. xoxo D
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February 8th, 2023

“You are you. Now, isn’t that pleasant?”
― Dr. Seuss

Since I pressed the restart on my self worth journey, I think I need to go back to some early days. I decieded to travel back to the positive events rather than the negative events of my life, perhaps that will remind me of my value not what caused me to self doubt. I am digging even deeper and revisiting those events that celebrate how incredible I am. I am incredible, I can say it. As a young child I knew who I was, I knew what I wanted, and I knew I wasn’t going to let anyone tell me I couldn’t. I understood myself long before I let anyone infiltrate my brain with their negative words, I knew my worth.

Third grade. Verona, NJ. The Verona Eagles Football Program. I wanted to become a cheerleader. I will become a cheerleader.

The Verona Eagles was run by the town’s recreation department. Football was a big deal in Verona, or at least that is how I remember it. As any recreation program would have, the Eagles program’s teams were broken into age groups. They catagorized them by A-team (oldest group, pre highschool) all the way down to the D-team (youngest group, elementary). We had just moved to Verona from a neighboring town. The recreation department sent flyers and mailers out via the schools or the mail. I brought home the flyer giving notice of upcoming cheerleading tryouts. The cheer squad for each of age group football teams only had spots for 12 girls. Over 50 girls for each team squad came to tryout, it was very competitive. Game on.

My nextdoor neighbor who was the same age and in the same grade as me, was also going to tryout. We were both excited. As I remember it, tryouts lasted for 3 days. You had 2 days to learn the 3-4 choreographed cheers that the volunteer cheer mom judge committee expected us to perform. We knew we wouldn’t know which cheer we would be called on to perform that final day, so knowing each cheer like the back of your hand was must. The third day was the official tryouts. I also remember being put into small groups to learn the different cheers. I don’t know if we picked our groups or if the volunteer moms incharge placed us in those small groups. I am almost certain it was up to the volunteer mom judge group to create the small practice groups. An important detail to remember, I am the new kid in town…. As we practiced in our little groups, the volunteer moms would walk around with clip boards and take notes on all the girls. The Verona Eagles recreation cheer squad was not messing around. You had better be fan-fucking-tastic, or hope you’re related to one of the volunteer moms.

Verona had four elementary schools and one catholic school. Girls from anyone of those schools could tryout. I recall my small practice group. Not to be mean, but I knew none of them stood a chance of making it. I am sure 2 out of the 4 in my group were forced to tryout because their mom most likely pressed them, and I am sure for various reasons. I remember being super frustrated because these girls kept messing up, and they were messing me up. But, my little 3rd grade self somehow tuned those limpy, quite uncoordinated girls out. I turned my voice up and knew I needed to be heard and seen by those ‘judges’, the volunteer moms. We were told on day one what we would be judged on. It was appearance, speaking loud and clear, coordination, and basic gymnastic ability, if you had a advanced gymnastic ability and could deliver on request said ability, you would most likely make the team. I was determined to do the splits, perfect cartwheels, round offs to back bend, and the show stealer, the round off bounce into a perfect split. I can still do the splits. lol

My next door neighbor was not in my practice group, however when we got home, we practiced together until our parents called us in. No way in hell was I not making this cheer squad. I definately had major squad goals. Where did this come from in me? My mom wasn’t a cheerleader, my dad never played football, my older brother and sister didn’t either. I was driven, determined. It felt important to me. I knew I was good at it too. Day 2, I was moved out of my sad little never going to be a Verona Eagle Cheerleader group to a new group of solid potentials. This was a good sign. Those volunteer mom judges knew I was good too. I felt confident about it. This team needed me. That afternoon after day 2 my backyard was torn up from my many cartwheels, round offs and splits.

It’s Day 3, tryouts. Let’s roll.

The volunteer moms were not walking around with their clip boards anymore. Now they are all seated at a long table looking stone faced. We were called into the gym in groups of 4. How they grouped us that day was a bit of a surprise, we were not in the same group we practiced with on day 2. Ahh, I see what these moms are doing, they want to make sure we can adapt to different girls, making sure we can sync up with new girls that we had not practiced with during day 1 and day 2. No problem here. Well, honestly I am sure my heart was pounding and I was nervous as all get out, but they were not going to see me sweat. Our lead judge starts to give us final instructions, “Ok girls, I will call out the start of the cheer like your team capitan would do, so please follow my lead.” Immediately after the mom judge gives us her command, I see her wink at the girl at the bookend of my group. Wait what?! Dammit, it’s her mom. Oh great, I’m in a group with one of the volunteer mom judge’s daughter.

Stay calm, speak loud and clear, land your roundoff to split, SMILE.

The tryout took all of 8 minutes, maybe less. Now it’s time to wait. OMG the wait was so long. I remember this being the hardest part about the entire 3 days. I knew I was good. I knew I was better than the volunteer mom judge’s daughter. If I did not make it, then this Verona Eagles cheer squad is rigged fo sho.

I made it. I MADE IT!!! I was the 12th girl picked. That detail still gets under my skin some, only because I knew I was better than a few of the girls who were selected ahead of me on the list. I understood my abilities, my value and worth that day. I was so confident, I worked hard and deserved my spot on the team. Self worth, self love, self confidence, knowing my value, not giving up. It’s amazing at such a young age, I understood. So what ever happend to Deni, the spunky little Verona Eagles Cheerleader who is on this journey to get herself back?

We’ve got spirit, yes we do!

We’ve got spirit, how about you?

We’ve got strength, yes we do!

We’ve got strength, how about you?

We’re the champions, we’re on top!

Roll with it

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Roll with it. Just Plain Nuts.

February 7th, 2023

Listen, before I had my coffee, I didn’t know how awesome I was going to be today, either.

Love yourself, you are enough. Yup. I am on a new journey, or maybe an old one. I have always been a survivor, someone who could perservere through life challenges that were not designed for the weak. This new journey of mine starts with finding my true self again. I actually like myself, not in a conceded way but in an acceptance way. I can laugh at myself, I am fine with self exploration along with recognizing my flaws and owning my mistakes. Plus, I am so much fun and I am delightfully unique in everyway. Let’s roll.

Step one in my self revival, this self doubt shit, that needs to go. Shake it off.

Self worth. What is my self worth? What am I worth? It’s time to explore that. What is self worth? The internal sense of being good enough and worthy of love and belonging from others. This is not to be confused with my self esteem. I have fed my self esteem over the years with my external achievements, for example, running the Boston Marathon 5 times, having successful athletic events, being physically fit and other professional successes. I received positive attention for those accomplishments which fed my self esteem, but self worth, that lies below the surface, under my skin. In order to move forward I have to peel the skin back and face the uncomfortable head on.

About 10 years ago I was going through my first divorce. Yes, first. I am that awesome I married and divorced twice. I started seeing a therapist about 10 years ago. He pulled no punches and forced me to be direct with myself. We all have our baggage, it’s part of life, how we take care of our bags is different for all of us. My bags had been through a world tour. They had their fair share of dents, tears, broken zippers, ect. But, my bags, they are durable, and they have room to fit more life into them. My therapist was going to help me come to terms with the stuff in my bags along with getting rid of useless crap I had been lugging around with me. It was my first real attempt at identifying my self worth. He would tell me, “You are not bad. You have had bad things happened to you.” I am not bad. I have had bad things happen to me.

How much better would life be if a liar’s pants really did catch fire? I felt like a big fat liar. I could not accept my therapists words. I AM NOT BAD. I HAVE HAD BAD THINGS HAPPEN TO ME.

I went to my therapist once a week for the next 3 years. I wonder if he still has his notes on me? What do those therapist really write down? I have seen a far side sketch of a patient and therapist, the therapist has his notebook out and it simply says, ‘Just plain nuts’. LOL. I knew I wasn’t nuts, but I also knew I struggled with my self worth. Those bags man, they could be heavy at times. While I struggled with my self worth, I was hitting it out of the park with my self esteem. Seems conflicting but it isn’t. I was a single mother raising 3 young boys, working full time and running marathons and other distances like a rockstar. I would run 10 miles at 5:30am then teach an hour bootcamp class, immediately after class I would take my 3 boys to all of their sporting stuff. Wash, rinse and repeat. Everyone take notice. I got this. Fulfilling my self esteem by collecting accolades and attention, no sweat. Loving myself and feeling worthy of love, hardest fucking task out there.

It’s not an easy thing. My journey to self worth has been long. I don’t think it ever stops either. I practice self love everyday. Some days it seems next to impossible, but I power through. I am not bad. I am good.

Roll with it

Deliverance and the Bison

Hey, are you going to just stand there or are you going to move already? There’s always room to learn about oneself—no matter your age or how well you think you know yourself. If you’ve been following my journey, you know I’m constantly evolving, always striving to be a better human. But here’s the catch:…

by deniced49 August 19, 2024August 20, 2024

As Fast as a Turtle

A turtle never abandons its carriage. Timing Is Everything We’ve all heard it said: timing is everything. As we navigate through life, each of us on our own journey, there are moments when we question whether we’re on the right path. Reflecting on my past, I can now clearly see the times when I veered…

by deniced49 August 10, 2024August 10, 2024

This is just a test…. Buckle Up.

I consider myself a crayon, I might not be your favorite color but one day you’ll need me to complete your picture. ~ Savannah Highnote This is a test… This is only a test. Stay calm and trust the process. Seriously?! How many times do I have to go through life’s fire drills? It’s especially…

by deniced49 July 11, 2024August 7, 2024
Gone, just like that. Mason Jar.

January 31st, 2023

I’ve got it all together, but I forgot where I put it.

Today is the day. Today I am going to 2TI to say goodbye to Lorick. I have a large mason jar filled with memories to give to him. I have enclosed a letter, pennies and dimes, a couple of pictures, and other sentimental items. I put the pictures in a zip lock bag, which is kind of stupid because I’m throwing this jar into the depths of the river, totally submerged. I don’t plan on getting the pictures back. But something in me wants to protect all the little items.

I have asked my boys to join me. Jackson and Max were reluctant at first Ben was good to go, Ben had a different relationship with him. Max and Jackson did not like Lorick. It wasn’t always like that, but after Lorick and I got married his relationship with my children took a turn, Lorick started asserting more dominance in the house. He needed to prove he was the ‘man of the house’, which was a joke, because he most definately was not the ‘man of the house’. I was. I was for many reasons too. Mainly financial. Lorick wasn’t willing to contribute to our monthly home expenses. He would tell me he had his own bills to pay, children who he was putting through college, which I may add was not the full truth.

Lorick had a tendency to compare his children to mine. Of course his children compared on the winning end of the spectrum. My boys didn’t come close to his superior offspring. He would tell me he raised his children God’s way. They were pure, without fault. How lovely it must be to produce offspring who have zero imperfections.

When we would go to 2TI as a family, Lorick would insist my boys help him load the boat, clean the boat, help him with all of the laborous tasks. Lorick’s children only needed to show up, not helping at all. The inequity between my children and his was too much. After time, my boys grew to dislike him, resent him. I didn’t blame them and understood, but I did continue to try and be the peacemaker for all of us.

I asked Walter who is one of the 2TI partners and a friend of mine if he wouldn’t mind bringing me out there to say goodbye before the year was up. He said absolutely. We met at the Station Creek boat landing in the afternoon. It was very sunny and about 70 degrees, which was great for December. The ride out to 2TI was a bit colder, but not terrible, I was prepared with extra jackets. We pulled up to the dock and pier head. Walter walked up to the camp, the boys sat on the pier head swing and I sat alone on the dock. The sun was sparkling all over the river, it was pretty. I leaned over and started talking to the water. “Can you hear me? Do you know I am here? Question for you Lorick, why the heck did you have your ashes scattered in the river? It’s dark down there! You missed the boat on that one. Should have done it on dry land. Can’t see the sunrise down there.” I was poking at him. Lorick and I had a sense of humor maybe only we understood. But, I know he would understand the poke.

I yelled up to Jackson and asked him to join me on the dock. I felt he had the strongest arm out of the 3 and I wanted him to throw the mason jar far out towards the center of the river. I gave the jar one more look and handed it over to Jackson.

That kid has an arm! He chucked that jar almost to the center of the river. The tide was going out and the current appeared to be strong. As I looked towards the direction in which Jackson threw the jar I noticed an extra sparkle.

Oh for crying out loud! I never poked a hole in the top of the lid. This dam jar is not sinking, it’s just floating along with the current. I ran up to the pier head to get a better look and to also confirm what I was seeing. Yup, I now have a message in a jar instead of a sunken never to be recovered personal memorial. Good one Deni. God knows where this thing is going! My luck it will wash up on the sandbar in July durring the Beaufort Water Festival! I am sure Lorick was quite amused and enjoyed poking back at me. I didn’t care, the boys and I had a good laugh about it. Now, it’s time to head home and start our lives fresh.

Goodbye Lorick, I’ll be back to visit you. I promise. xoxo

Layers of Grief

A GOOD PIECE OF WATER

If you combine wine with dinner, you’ve got yourself a winner! “That’s a good piece of water…” Honestly, who says that? Apparently, it’s a thing. But for me, life by the water isn’t just a catchy phrase—it’s my reality. So much so that I once lived on an island, surrounded by nothing but the big…

by deniced49 June 19, 2024

Previously Enjoyed… Good Luck on The Nuptials.

Something new, something blue, something borrowed…. That is you…. The solar storm has passed, leaving me with no excuses. I am stuck. Stuck in the mire of my thoughts and feelings, entangled in a situation that has roots back in 2010. That year, I started a friendship unlike any other—a bond with a woman that…

by deniced49 June 1, 2024June 1, 2024

With a Serpentine Wave; You’re Not Welcome Mr. Solar Storm.

It’s not a hot flash. I’m hot. I am having a power surge. ~ me Spring has me in a whirlwind—new job vibes, a hair transformation journey (blond/grey/white, anyone?), and cozying up with my significant other. I had grand plans of chronicling my weekly escapades, but let’s be real, time vanishes faster than socks in…

by deniced49 May 14, 2024May 15, 2024
Gone, just like that. I am a Badass.

January 30th, 2023

Not only does my mind wander…. sometimes it walks off completely.

I made it to Christmas!! Yes! I felt good. The boys were home, presents under the tree, dogs were happy and it was cold as fuck outside. Really cold, New England cold. So cold that my outside shower busted it’s valve. Water was spraying everywhere.

I had just gotten out of a lovely hot shower and heard the pop from outside. I was already wet so I figured I’d just throw on a rain jacket and handle the situation. Just a rain jacket, that was it. I forgot it was 30 degrees outside. I also forgot I am not an engineer. My first plan did not work, so on to plan B, shut the water off at the main valve. Still in my rain jacket, Jackson and I attempt to shut off the main water valve, now that just busted off. Oh no. We did manage to fix that situation thank goodness.

Stay calm. Do not freak out. Do not let this ruin Christmas. Think…

I know people!!

Fortunately, I only freaked out for 2 minutes. Stay calm. I realized I know people who have stuff and know how to fix things. I called my friend and neighbor who works for the water company and I was able to get a meter wrench which I needed to shut the water off at the meter box. Done! I also called my friend who is a contractor and handy man extraordinaire. He came over and fixed the outside shower. What a friend to do that on Christmas morning. It was a Christmas miracle. My ‘bad luck’ was just a reminder that I was very lucky to have wonderful people in my life who came to my rescue on Christmas morning. We got on with the day and I had a really good Christmas surrounded by my family. It was all I needed.

I bought myself most of my Christmas presents this year. I had to set myself up for success! One of my little fun gifts to myself was a yellow push button that said “You are a Badass.” After my plumbing situation, I thought the button was a perfect gift to myself. When pushed, it plays 5 different affirmations of badassery. It also came with a little yellow book titled the same. “You are a Badass.” I waited a few days after Christmas before I even looked at this book. On December 28th, the book was calling to me, I started to read it. I didn’t start from the begining, I just opened it up and the words popped out at me.

Love yourself.

What are you doing here?

Forgive yourself.

Surround yourself with people who think the way you want to think.

Your brain is your bitch.

Love yourself, unless you have a better idea.

This little book was amazing. I couldn’t get enough of it.

After Lorick died I spent days with racing thoughts, self doubt, sadness, lonely. Ex-Wife Island is a very lonely place. This little book was a life boat. The message was so simple and clear. LOVE YOURSELF. I wrote that down. Nothing else matters, nothing good can come back to me if I don’t love myself first. Loving myself first became my new mission.

It’s a daily practice, just as giving grace is. I was giving grace to others but not to myself. I needed to forgive myself for being so hard on me. Replaying the what if’s of the week leading to Lorick’s death. I really needed to forgive myself for the years I allowed someone to tell me how bad I was. I am not bad, but I am a badass.

This badass is going the make my brain my bitch and get that bitch back on track. Time to release some baggage.

Dear Lorick,

Can you help me please? It’s silly of me to ask because you were mean to me, a lot. Your mean words made me feel ugly, less than. Did you say those things to me because you felt that way about yourself? I know you loved me, you just didn’t love yourself. You said those hurtful things to me because that hurt was trapped in you. I’m sorry you did not love yourself enough. Please let me go. Please let me heal and find happiness and love again. I deserve that.

I do miss you a bunch. I always loved how you smelled and I thought of that yesterday. If only we could have one more chance, but we can not. All of our chances are gone. Please let me go.

xoxo Sugar Britches

Layers of Grief

The Art of Giving Zero Fucks

Nada. That’s how many fucks the expression zero fucks gives. If you don’t like me, that’s fine—my feelings aren’t hurt. Chances are, I don’t like you either. However, that doesn’t give you the right to treat me with disrespect or disdain, especially when I’ve done nothing to warrant it. That’s why I choose to give zero fucks…

by deniced49 April 30, 2024

In God I Trust

Are you there God? It’s me, Deni. In the hustle of our daily lives, we often overlook the subtle messages that the universe sends our way. For me, those messages often come in the form of small, everyday encounters—particularly with the coins that find their way into my hands. “In God We Trust” is emblazoned…

by deniced49 April 9, 2024

Pop, Pennies and Blue Feathers.

Blue is known as the ‘sad’ color. But when I see the ocean, all of my sorrow is washed away. Pop, Pennies, and Blue Feathers… It’s been that kind of day. If you’ve been following my journey through my previous essays, you’ll know the significance I attach to finding pennies and the profound meanings they…

by deniced49 April 6, 2024
Gone, just like that. Sail on.

January 29th, 2023

Hey, train wreck, this isn’t your station.

I gave you back your name. I guess I’ll move along. What choice is there? Time to face reality and the reality of my situation. Is it really fair to be angry with anyone? Maybe, but it doesn’t help me heal and it certainly perpetuates the mountain of hurt feelings. “I’ve thrown away the blues, I’m tired of being used. I wanted everyone to know.” – Sail on

What am I doing to myself? Why am I here? Locked in it. This place in my mind is making me nuts. I usually know how to tame it, control the thoughts, but my goodness, it’s a total mess in there. I think I keep tricking myself or trying to convince myself that I am ok. Why shouldn’t I be, after all it’s been 6 weeks now. Oh, wait a minute, I am not supposed to be counting the days. Remember, I told myself to stop doing that. I told myself it wasn’t healthy. I told myself to stop feeling sorry for myself, and don’t forget self pity is a sign of weakness and he told me I was weak and how can I allow him to be right……

Deni, sorry for the mean, hurtful, accurate things I said to you.

Ok, Deni get a fucking grip already. Everything you are going through is normal, and it would be weird if you didn’t struggle from time to time. It will get better. Remember, you are a good person, a good mother, loving daughter, a hard worker, a loyal friend. It is ok to love yourself, again. Breath.

So, just as I was letting love and light in I had an unexpected run in with Lorick’s dad, sister and son. The last people I expected to see at the Beaufort Academy Alumni Oyster Roast. I am on the alumni committee and Jackson is an alumni, so I had every reason to be there. Lorick and his siblings were also alumni of BA, so they had every reason to be there. I didn’t expect Lorick’s family to show up. They didn’t do social gatherings, at least not his dad or sister. I wondered if they thought there was going to be some kind of tribute to Lorick? Who knows. What I do know is I wanted to say hello and give them all a hug. I cared about all of them. Just because we were divorced didn’t mean I stopped caring about his family. I’m not wired like that. Plus, hugging them would be the closest thing to hugging Lorick again.

As I approached them, I immediately started to feel uncomfortable, the energy was bad, but this train was not stopping, I couldn’t. I said hello, smiled, asked how everyone was. Nothing. Like really, nothing. Pop wouldn’t even look at me. He directed his conversation to another person. I stood silent for a second, but I couldn’t leave. Laura’s hands started doing some weird nervous like movement. It was so awkward. I guess to break the awkward silence she asked about the boys. In an effort to remove myself from this trainwreck I only gave a brief update. Then I simply said, “It was lovely to see you all again, I hope you have a Merry Christmas.” I walked away and wanted to fade to black.

Sweet Jackson came to my rescue. My sons love me so much and I am so very thankful. Jackson was watching from across the courtyard. He saw what was happening. He didn’t hear anything said, he told me he could tell I was in trouble by the sad look on my face. He came over to me and whispered into my ear asking if I was ok. I told him no, and I told him what had happened. He grabbed my hand tight and said, “Fuck them Mom. They don’t deserve you or your kindness. I love you. Fuck them.” At this point I had a massive lump in my throat, gut wrenching hole in the stomach. It took an act of God for me not to cry. I pulled myself together without anyone noticing I was really falling apart. I stayed for another 20 minutes and then quitely left.

My friend who was talking with Pop durring this most awkward situation sent me a text message that evening. She said she felt badly about what happened, and then let me know that Laura came up to her and asked if she knew where I was. She told Laura she thought I went home. Laura told her she wanted to say goodbye to me. This made me think maybe I was being sensitive, maybe they didn’t mean to treat me poorly, maybe they are hurting so much and just don’t know what to do with all of their emotions. So, I reached out in a text message to Laura.

Laura,

I am sorry I didn’t say goodbye to you before I left. It was good to see you and your dad. I hope y’all have a lovely Christmas. I know it is hard without LeeLee and Lorick. I loved them both. I loved your brother beyond words. I’d do anything to have him back, as I know you would too.

xoxo, D

She never responded. I double checked to make sure I had the correct phone number for her. I did.

I cried myself to sleep that night.

Christmas was only 4 days away. Get to Christmas. You can do it. Remember you are loved, and you must love yourself. Keep sailing girl.

Layers of Grief

Confined Spaces

Well, this feels a little tight. Back in that sterile room, inside the MRI tube, my mind couldn’t help but stray to darker places. Thoughts of mortality, of bodies being consumed by fire – they haunted me, uninvited but persistent. I tried to shake them off, to focus on the task at hand, but they…

by deniced49 April 5, 2024

Ghosting and Gaslighting

BOO! I’m not a ghost.. You’re crazy. As I sit down to write about ghosting and gaslighting, I can’t help but reflect on my own experiences with these toxic relationship dynamics. What began as hopeful connections quickly turned into painful lessons in manipulation and deceit. In sharing my story, I hope to shed light on…

by deniced49 March 18, 2024

The Art of Composed Chaos

I am a cage, in search of a bird. — Franz Kafka My Dance of Composed Chaos: A Journey to Authenticity Y’all know I love some self-reflection. The journey to find the core of one’s self… The ticker… Today, let’s cut the pretense and dive deep into the raw truth of my existence. If you’ve been…

by deniced49 March 13, 2024
Gone, just like that. Sticks & Stones.

January 27th, 2023

Been there, done that. Then, been there several more times, because apparently I never learn.

The Man on the White horse is good. Did you hear me Lorick? I said the Man on the White Horse is good. He doesn’t want anything from me, he isn’t interested in taking anything from me. Nothing. Did you hear me?

I am scared. The fear I have to give my heart to someone is ginormous. How can I put my heart on the line, again? What if he leaves me? What if he hurts me? What if he tells me I am bad? How could I possibly handle that? I have been conditioned to believe I am a horrible person. You told me I was mean, abusive, negative. You told me I was a failure, bad mother. Oh, remember when you told me I was weak, you said I was just pretending to be healthy and strong. You told me people didn’t know the real Denice. Only you knew the real Denice. The real Denice was bad.

What the fuck, that wasn’t nice. And, it was all lies. I know what you said to me, really was what you felt about yourself. I am sorry you couldn’t love yourself enough. I am sorry that I let you pass your demons on to me.

How could the Man on the White Horse want me? I am all of those terrible things. How could anyone want me? I am broken. Oh, I want to scream and cry at all of it. I blame myself for so much, yet my logical mind knows those words, implications of my character are not true.

Remember, stable people attract staple people. That works in reverse. Honestly, I wasn’t looking to attact anything at all. But…. Who is this Guy on a Horse, really? What the heck is he doing with a very much grieving Ex-Wife who he has to pick up on that shitty Ex-Wife Island? What is the deal? Hold the horses! Could the Guy on the Horse have an agenda? Maybe so, maybe so. I let my guard down big time, I am going to forgive myself for this one. I was grieving I wasn’t in the right mind space, I knew something was off, I kept saying to myself, this is too good to be true. The Man on the White Horse was really only a morally bankrup dude on a moped. The Devil’s voice is sweet to hear. Time to mute the Devil.

I get upset when I think about all the unpleasant stuff. I feel sad about it. There is a hole in me. As I explore my hole, I realize a hole is a circle and circles represent God’s love for us, which has no beginning and no end. In other words, God loves us through thick and thin, the good and the bad, regardless of what daily challenges we are struggling through.

God loves me. That needs to be enough.

Dear Lorick,

Please clear a path for me. Help me let love back in. Condition my heart to allow someone to care for me. Condition my heart to allow me to love me again. Please. I know you really did not mean to hurt me with your words. I understand why you said what you said, it doesn’t make it ok, but I get it. You were hurt by someone too. Please release me from it.

xoxo

Layers of Grief

Giver or Taker? Who are You?

Hey, are you still enjoying that? Today was like any other day at work—filled with unexpected twists and turns that keep me on my toes. But today’s journey took me on a quest to find one of my favorite patients who was en route to the hospital in an ambulance. Instead of opting for a…

by deniced49 March 12, 2024

Ass Plants and Wet Pants.

Why limit all of your fun to happy hour? So, I fell, so what? Oh, how I wish it were that simple. My visit to see my boy, a senior at Winthrop, and his new girl had been nothing short of splendid. Friday night was a blast, filled with laughter and joy. But then came…

by deniced49 March 10, 2024

Persnickety Pennies

What’s all the fuss about? In the realm of the P, a vast domain unfurled, With pennies, partnerships, and purpose twirled. Progress and placement, hand in hand, they stand, Guiding us forward across the land. Pennies, humble tokens, stories they hold, Of fortunes sought and treasures bold. Partnerships forged in trust’s sacred flame, Building bridges…

by deniced49 March 1, 2024
Gone, just like that. 2TI

January 25th, 2023

Sometimes I wonder how you put up with me. Then I remember, oh, I put up with you. So we’re even.

Day 30. I can not believe you are gone, never coming back. I wonder where you are, who you have visited. Who are you comforting with your spirit. I haven’t felt anything for days. Is that because I am trying to go on living?

I decided to stop counting the days that have past since you died. It’s now a month and a day since you left. Counting the days feels like I am holding myself back, clinging to grief like a security blanket. This is not helpful for my healing process. You are not coming back, so I need to settle into that, I’ll start coming to terms with that, at the very least, I am going to try.

My friend Walter, he is so kind to call and check on me. I have been surrounded by a circle of love since Lorick has died. Interesting thing about the circle, it’s not made up of the friends I would have expected to embrace me, quite the opposite. Death can be revealing. Death revealed perhaps what I already knew regarding certain friendships of mine. This is OK, it is. Death means something is over, endings. The way I like to see it, endings are an opportunity for beginings too. Fresh starts, new friendships, reviving old friendships that stand the test of time. How fortunate for me, I was pulled from the day to day and exposed to my friends waiting in the wings to catch me. Death has set me on a new course. I’m ready for my new journey.

Walter let me know what I already suspected, Lorick’s ashes have been scattered at his fishcamp, 2TI. I wondered who got to say the final goodbye to him. It made me very sad, but I was prepared for that news. I did not have any expectations of inclusion, just hopes to be included. I did ask to be, but remember, it’s not about me or my grief, I need to remain in exile on Ex-Wife Island.

Breath. Grace, keep giving grace.

I am going to have a new relationship with 2TI, the fishcamp. Lorick’s family can not control me going out there, or visiting him whenever I want. I loved it out there too. The ironic thing to me about 2TI was I had been there a few years before I had even met Lorick. Mutual friends and partners in the camp had invited me a couple of times. It was wonderful! I remember the first time Lorick invited me, I said ‘Oh, I love that place!’ I think he was a little disappointed because he wanted to be the one who revealed it to me.

Lorick used 2TI as a lore. He did. I can’t blame him for that, I get it. It is an amazing place, only way to access it is by boat. I have witnessed amazing sunsets, sunrises, full moons, thunderstorms, and beautiful sunny days. The kids loved it too, any outdoor child who loves to fish and swim had a blast there. Lorick modified the pier head so we all could jump off into the creek. He and I would day visit when no one was there and sit on the pier head swing listen to music, hold hands and talk. My memory of all of it is as clear as day. It is heaven out there. It is a magical place. I’ll be back. I plan to go as much as I can.

Lorick is truly resting in heaven. Lorick, dumplin, I’ll be by to visit you. I miss you everyday.

Boss Up, Not Bowing Down

No rain, no flowers, no pain, no power. As I embark on this new week, I embrace the mantra of “New Week – New You,” recognizing it as an opportunity to cultivate the art of being positive in every aspect of my life. First and foremost, I acknowledge that feeling stuck is a temporary state,…

by deniced49 February 26, 2024

The Shame Game~ Burning Under the Gaslight

Shame is a soul eating emotion ~ Carl Jung Gaslighting is a silent killer of the soul. It’s a subtle form of emotional manipulation that chips away at my sense of reality and self-worth until I’m left questioning my own sanity. I know this because I’m living it. I find myself tangled in the web…

by deniced49 February 24, 2024

Roll with it. Drama Mama.

I know my worth, and it’s not on the discount rack. In every relationship, honesty and transparency are the cornerstones of trust. I’ve always believed in being open about my feelings and desires, hoping for the same in return. From the very beginning, I made it clear that being ignored was something I couldn’t tolerate.…

by deniced49 February 18, 2024