The Dish by Deni

I’m sorry, and by sorry I mean get over it.

Day 25 & 26

Was that you the other morning? Did you leave my house? Lorick, can you hear me?

Humming along. Not feeling the stuff, emotions. I feel a bit cold inside, lacking emotions. Then they, my emotions crept back in. These emotions are associated with my memories of the dark part of our relationship. The put downs, the gaslighting, the saddness, the abuse. What do I do with that? It’s raw and painful. I opened that dark door, the door I shut after Lorick died. It is the very door my ‘friends’ reminded me of around day 10. Oh good lord, it’s time to revisit all the stuff.

Projection, I think it was all projection on his part. He crafted the words just enough for me to hang on and call them truth. Maybe I was an easy mark. Sure I was, I’m an empath. I didn’t possess the qualities of the person he was convincing me to be. His narrative of me was honestly ludicrous, anyone he shared it with or I shared it with thought so too. Well, maybe a few people bought into his story, but that is none of my business and a waste of my time proving myself to anyone who did not see the real me.

All of my bad memories needed to be unearthed. The Man on the White Horse was back, and knocking at my door. I am fighting with myself, telling myself I am not worthy. Lorick did a number on my brain.

Oh the Man on the White Horse.

I fought with all of those words Lorick placed in my brain. I actually talked outloud to him arguing my point as if he were in the room with me. The beauty of that, he couldn’t walk out on the argument this time. I am not insane, I am healing myself, getting the last word, finally.

Dear Lorick,

The Man on the White Horse likes me and you can not stop it. You stopped it in October because I choose you over him. But now you did it, you finally left me for good. Abandoning me and leaving me banished to Ex-Wife Island. I like the Man on the White Horse, you can not stop it, you can not stop me. xoxo

I meant to behave, but there were too many other options.

I really don’t want to villianize Lorick. I loved him so much. We had a ton of fun together, so many laughs. He was so funny. I needed to remember the hurt in order to let anyone get close to me. Especially the Man on the White Horse, who was too good to be true. The Devil doesn’t come to you in a red cape and horns, he comes to you disguised as everything you always wanted. That is the ding dong truth.

“If I built this fortress around your heart, encircled you in trenches and barbed wire. Then let me build a bridge, for I cannot fill the chasm, and let me set the battlements on fire. Then I went off to fight some battle I’d invented inside my head, away so long for years and years, you probably thought, or even wished that I was dead. While the armies all are sleeping, beneath the tatterred flag we’d made, I had to stop in my tracks for fear of walking on the mines I’d laid.” Fortress Around Your Heart ~ Sting

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.

I’d like to announce I have no idea what I’m doing. Today I feel hopeful.

Day 18

I’m starting to forget my sorrows, oh who am I kidding. I should say I am building a shelf to put my sorrows on and out of my way. I am going in and out of disbelief, anger, sadness and concern for myself.

I catch myself having moments of happiness and being hopeful. Then the guilt taps me on the shoulder. Where do I fit in? What emotions am I supposed to have? I was in the gray.

Gray is a bad place for me. I am a high functioning black or white person. Gray, she gets me into trouble. Gray impairs my decision making. That bitch Gray allowed someone to slither into my life when I was the most vunerable.

Along comes a man on a white horse. What is happening? Do I just let this man on his bright white horse rescue me? Wow, this feels good, but is this real? He has all the stuff, stories, connections. This seems too good to be true. This seems too good to be true.

For the next few days I allowed the man on the white horse take care of me. Hug me, feed me, water me. What was happening? Who in their right mind would want to take me on right now? I mean, I am a fucking mess. Why would anyone invest in me? I know all too well that unstable is not very attractive. Stable, happy people attract stable happy people. So, what was I really attracting. Hind sight is 20/20.

The man on the white horse was not giving up. I guess I’m just going to roll with this. Why not? It feels good. Sorrow is staying on her shelf. What do I have to lose, nothing because I have already lost Lorick. What I didn’t consider was me. I could lose me, again.

Fuck it. I’m going for the ride. The horse is white. I am gray and the white horse was pulling me out of the gray. So it seemed.

You will never really see how toxic someone is until you breathe fresher air.

“The greater the artist, the greater the doubt. Perfect confidence is granted to the less talented as a consolation prize.” ― Robert Hughes

How about that! I made it to day 16.

Life is not a fairy tale. If you lose a shoe at midnight, you’re drunk.

I’m going to Jersey. Travel to NJ was tough. 6am flight meant up at 3:45 am, which wasn’t a total problem since sleeping wasn’t coming easy for me. I could not wait to be with my life long friends. Friends who I have not seen in ten, twenty years. I knew that these friends would ease my pain with one hug. Each one of them. I couldn’t wait for my hugs.

I booked an Airbnb, but then Karen stepped in. Oh thank goodness. Karen and I have been friends since we were 4 yrs old. Nursery school. Our friendship undulated over the years but it never ceased. Karen, Lisa and I texted our plans back and forth. Who was picking me up from the airport, would we go to lunch, just a bunch of benign details. We settled with me taking an uber to Karen’s house and go from there.

Karen’s mother died from cancer when Karen was 7 months pregnant with her first daughter whom she named after her mother, Grace. Grace, it’s a perfect name, and it was something I was working very hard at grace, giving grace. Forgiving those who hurt me.

I needed Karen, I didn’t have one clue that my weekend with her and her family would profoundly impact me and become the first step towards my healing process. Karen understood grief when she lost her mother Grace. 19 yrs have gone by since Grace passed away and Karen still grieves her mother. Grief, it doesn’t go away, it changes form, you miss your loved ones. We are left living with the memories of the people we loved so much.

Karen and her husband Jim made me feel at ease. They listened, they did not tell me how I should be, think or grieve. We shared stories of our experiences of our unexplained encounters and the energy that we believed to be her Mother and Lorick. Yes! I am not crazy, thank goodness someone else understands.

They rescued me from Ex-Wife Island.

My high school reunion was fantastic. That was the way it had to be. I wished more of my classmates could have made it, but I was happy to wrap my arms around everyone who did. I literally hugged everyone I could. I wanted to feel their energy, I needed their energy to recharge me. I laughed and cried that night. Just like Karen and Jim, my classmates rescued me from Ex-Wife Island. It was magical.

Time for me to head back to Beaufort. Here I am, day 16, going home. I felt ready to get home. I had a renewed sense of self, even a touch of self-love.

As I started my journey home, I felt enlightened in some kind of way. I guess it’s hard to put down in words. My uber to the airport and I had deep theological conversation about life, death and love. The interesting thing was I had never even mentioned to him that Lorick had recently died. When I got out of the car I felt like I had a positive energy field around me. I also had a tremendous headache and sore throat. Probably a result of too much Verona.

My flight was delayed and I had about 2 hours before boarding. I deceided to get a bloody mary at a kiosk bar near my gate. A man sat one seat away from me and he was on the phone in deep conversation. I noticed he took a bottle of Advil out of his pocket and set it on the bar. Man, that looked good. I made my move and motioned to him if I could have 2 of his Advil, he slid the bottle over to me.

He ended his phone call. Peter, was his name. He looked over at me and said, “If you need more than 2, please take it.” I told him I was fine and then we started a conversation.

He was visably upset and he asked me if I wouldn’t mind if he spoke with me about what was upseting him. Random, but it made me feel good that my presence made him comfortable. Peter, had witnessed what he called an undignified death. The death was that of a homeless man in NYC who was outside of the hotel he was staying in. The homeless man was sitting propped up agaist the hotel, head bent down. That was how Peter saw him that morning. When Peter returned to the hotel, the homeless man had not moved. Same exact position. Peter knew what he was seeing but could not beleive no one else noticed him, especially the doorman of the hotel. Peter called 911. When they arrived, it was confirmed the homeless man had died.

Peter was very angry and upset with the staff at the hotel. I listend. When he was done talking I told him about grace. Giving grace. I gave him a different point of view. Perhaps this homeless man sat in that spot all the time, maybe he was a fixture of sorts and the staff were used to him being there, sleeping there. Maybe when he sat there people gave him food, maybe he and the doorman were not on good terms for whatever reason, maybe there is just more to it. I asked Peter to try and give grace to those he was angry with. He said, “Grace?” We spoke about what grace is or what my version of it was. I told him grace was what was keeping my shit together. I asked him again to try, I told him if he gives all of the people in the hotel grace he will be free of anger. Grace = freedom.

Peter started to cry. He said to me, “I could have sat anywhere in this airport, but here I am sitting next to you, and I don’t know you, but you just taught me so much. You have changed my entire perspective, thank you so much.”

I couldn’t have done that if I wasn’t actively trying to give grace to those who I felt hurt by after Lorick’s death. I am practicing grace every day, I struggle sometimes, but I don’t give up. It has been essential for my healing.

Day 16, you did not suck.

We never really grow up. We only learn how to act in public.

So much running around in my head. Mostly self depreciating. Apparently I have given permission to a few people to rent space in my head. Time to kick those tenants out.

I realized a lot of what people were saying or their behavior towards me doesn’t matter anymore. Lorick’s gone. What matters is how I move forward with my life. Being sure my tounge is not forked, just because events and situations were causing my anger.

I am choosing to explore the ‘why’. Why did you have to say that? Why couldn’t I just see him? Why? Was that what he wanted and I didn’t know it. Did he express his wishes to his family and friends at some point while he was alive? Did he write it down somewhere?

Hello, it’s me Denice, I am over here on Ex-Wife Island. Ex-Wife Island is cold and bare. Dark and grey.

I know the truth, Lorick knows the truth, and God knows the truth. That has to absolutely be enough. So time to put my big girl britches on and remind myself I will be ok. I am here. A lot of people care about me and love me. Stop allowing a few to mistreat me. Because whatever their reason is, it is none of my business.

Well, fuck. I am still trying to remind myself of that. But I can not help having a stream of regreful thoughts.

Bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. ~ Luke 6:28

Time to look ahead. I have a trip planned. I am going to NJ to see old friends and celebrate my 30th reunion (2 yrs later). I booked this trip November 3rd. 2 days before Lorick died. I would have not gone to NJ had I not booked prior to November 5th. Little did I know that this trip was going to be the first real step towards my healing process.

Day 13. I wrote the following in my journal:

I am so lost. I keep playing our life over and over. I know it takes 2 people to love and hurt each other. Which is what we did. I can’t keep my head up. I keep blaming myself. I know those thoughts are not ok. I am just hurting so much. I am going to try to keep living. I am going to try to change how I live, love, and forgive. I can not beleive you are really gone. I just want you back.

“We look for love, no time for tears, wasted water’s all that is and it don’t make no flowers grow. Good things might come to those who wait, not for those who wait too late, we got to go for all we know. Just the two of us.” ~ Grover Washington, Jr.

The first week since Lorick’s passing was nothing short of a blur. However, I did have moments of clarity. I had a difficult time letting the reality of the situation sink in. Plus, I wanted to see him. Well, all I could vision was his hand. I wanted to touch his hand and say goodbye. That did not happen.

Now, in fairness to all of those who loved Lorick, primarily his children, grief manifests differently for everyone. Perhaps being angry with me helped others cope.

I requested to see him. I asked more than once. I was told no. No one would see him. I was also told by someone speaking on behalf of his children and family, to “know my place.” I was the ex-wife, I chose divorce and since I chose divorce I do not have a place at the table, so to speak.

Insert knife into my heart and slash the rest of the dam thing. Fuck man. I just wanted to touch his hand and say goodbye, closure.

Lorick was creamated.

Since that day, I have been working, praying very hard at giving grace, understanding others, forgivness. Every single day I practice this. Every day.

His service was held 4 days after his death. 11/9/2022. So much about that service was out of place for me. The pastor who eulogized him was not someone who cared about Lorick. As a matter of fact, we left St. Helena primarily because of this pastor, and his cold demeanor towards us. His dislike of Lorick was not lost on me. They had a past.

I sat in the middle back of the church with my close girl friends and my family. His service was well attended, filled with people from his job, life long friends, family. I felt like I was on cast away island. I was.

I was not extended an invite to his repast, I was not uninvited. It was clear, and as stated above that his death was not about me or my loss.

Lorick and I were very close. Our relationship was not healthy. We divorced for a reason. However, we could not stop loving each other. And we did love each other. Love. I don’t have to explain it to anyone. I loved that man from our first date. I thought about that man prior to meeting him for the first time. I loved and will always love him in my heart.

The month before he died was one of our best. We spent long weekends together, alone and with friends. Just a lovely time. I am lucky to have those memories. The week before he died he came to my house to celebrate my youngest’s birthday with my family and friends. He came over for dinner the Wednesday before he died. We had our usual disagreement, he was mad with me and just left. I sat on the couch and tears rolled down my face. But, I did not run after him.

Friday morning less than 24 hours before his death. I woke up feeling awful. Head cold. I saw a text come in from Lorick. It was not a good text. It was hurtful and made me very sad. I did not respond to it right away. I wanted to process it and make sure my response was not going to cause more damage. When I finally responded, we bantered back and forth. He proclaimed he was a good man and someone would appreciate him. I told him I agreed 100%.

My head cold was getting the best of me, but dispite not feeling well I went to the high school football game with my sons. My son was visiting from college. I sucked it up for the kids. We got home around 10 pm. Lorick was not far away at a friends house who was having a farewell party for a mutual friend. Lorick sent me a text asking me what I was doing. I sent him a picture of the boys playing games. He then asked me to pick him up. I told him I thought he broke up with me, why would he want me? He told me fine, that he would be ok. I told him he was confusing me, I didn’t feel good, and I was going to bed. That is what I did.

The next morning, Nov. 5th. I woke up, still not feeling great. I picked up my phone and saw more text messages from Lorick. They were hard to understand because he was writing in emoji’s, and I think he was trying to type into his watch. The last message in the thread of messages said, “When I need you, you are not there for me, and that’s the situation.”

Well fuck.

Not knowing he had died, I tried to call him. Nothing. I then sent him the daily Wordle challenge. Nothing. I called him again. Nothing. I thought to myself, he’s being a big baby. He is mad at me and he did not get his way so he is going to punish me. I called him again. Nothing.

I left my house and took the dog for a walk.