Sunday, December 11, 2011

Letting it all go. Right into the trash.

When I moved out of Dann's house, I took almost nothing with me.
It was too hard for me to go through stuff and figure out what to take with me, what to throw away, so I just left everything. A few weeks ago, he brought some of my boxes to me.

Mostly, they were clothes and shoes. Things that no longer fit me, either size-wise or personality-wise. They were easy: Throw them in a box and take them to DI.

my sis and I
There was one box that was all my old journals and pictures: Things I boxed up and hid away, because I didn't know what to do with them. Should I throw the pictures of Larry out? Keep them? Burn them? I LOOK happy, and that bothers me... I also have all the love notes I wrote him, and he wrote me. They confuse me.

(Confusion: I obviously THOUGHT I loved him. I obviously THOUGHT I was happy. So, why the hell do I still have nightmares about him sometimes? And I'm VERY aware that what I thought was loving and normal was NOT. But reading my own words in my own handwriting professing that I love him... It's confusing.)

I just couldn't bring myself to throw them out. Or even look at them. Until today.

Grandpa Dennis

I'm not sure what got into me. I pulled out every picture. Most of them were from our wedding day. I kept the pictures of my friends and cousins. I cried when I saw the pictures of "Grandpa Dennis", my next door neighbor and special friend all growing up. He passed away not too long after that picture was taken. I wanted to keep that one. My wedding day was HELL, but in those pictures I also saw myself surrounded by people who loved me. They were there to support me. I want to remember that. I want to remember my grandma making my dress, and my other grandma doing the wedding cake. I want to remember having my aunts and sister do my hair and makeup. I want to remember what my brothers looked like in tuxes. (although, I'll be honest, I didn't remember until I looked at the pictures.) I want to remember how wishy-washy I was picking out colors and dresses. I just didn't care, but there were a lot of people that made it beautiful. (Sorry to my bridesmaids. I wouldn't put you in those dresses again.) I want to remember so many of the people I loved coming together to celebrate. Even if the celebration (for me) ended as soon as we left the reception. Jerk.
My grandma made my dress. She's kind of amazing.

I threw away the pictures of Larry and I. I threw away the pictures of his parents, his sister, his friends, his cousins. I threw away the pictures that I didn't want to remember. I threw away the pictures we took of our honeymoon. Seeing those were the hardest. Why is that girl smiling? Why does she have her arm around him? Why didn't she punch him in his big nose and leave?

And now, I just want to cry. Cry for the nineteen year old girl who didn't know what was going to happen to her next, cry for the girl that thought the way he treated her was good, and kind, and normal...

Just cry. And maybe get a little angry.
(Possible angry posts to follow.)


  1. I'm glad that you kept the pictures of all those who came and helped. One thing I felt overwhelmed with that day was how many people came because they loved you. You have had an enormous influence on so many--even back when you didn't think you should exist. Thanks for sharing Grandpa Dennis--one of those men who are good just because they are good--not because it is what they are supposed to do or have been taught to do or for what other people will say--he just wanted to do good and be good while not shying away from himself. I love looking at how beautiful you looked in Grandma's dress. And I love how beautiful you look riding a horse and just being you!

  2. I hope you enjoyed the pictures of me in a tux. That is a rare and elusive treat.

    I really enjoyed scanning in all of those pictures. It was fun to look back on some of the good times. It saddens me a little bit to think of how I had no idea what you were going through. But I'm glad you are able to remember that even through those hard times there were (and are) many who love you.