Tag Archives: Pennsylvania

I Only Want What’s Best For You



October 5, 2004

Hi MB,

Let me answer some of your questions from your morning e-mail.

I didn’t like the ending of “Good in Bed” because it ended so quickly. I guess I wanted more for her than how it ended.

“Lovely Bones” was hard for me because it dealt with rape and a child was murdered. I am a big advocate for protecting children. I did like the dialogue of how she saw her family and how she wanted to help them heal from her death.

Based on what you shared in your e-mail, I’m not sure severe sexual harassment is the correct term. Either way it doesn’t matter because it was still a horrible experience. I would like to have you tell me the whole story if you can. I would feel privileged to have you share it with me.

I hope that our friendship can help you see what it is God sees in you. I hope I can be used by God to help heal some of your pain. I want you to experience the joy and love that God has to offer and no the dark and depressed stuff the world has given you.

Don’t worry about me. I’m a big girl. I just have bad days now and then and sometimes I can’t hide them from you.

Do you think Alex might let you get away for a weekend? I have though about something for the two of us. I think it would be good for both of us. I’ll tell you more when you get back to Pennsylvania.

Before I go, I just read and printed your list. It brought tears to my eyes. It also reminded me of some of the things I told myself, so let’s talk more about it. My feelings and thoughts for you haven’t changed because of the list. If anything they have gotten deeper.



Later that same day


I just realized that I may have been a little more serious in my last e-mail. My intentions are not to get you to do all this thinking while you are away. I also know it isn’t easy when you can’t talk through some of the things you might be thinking about.

So if you want to go to lighter subjects until you get home, that is fine with me. But I know how much you like to write how you are feeling and thinking. If you want to e-mail me your thoughts and feelings and not have me reply, then just let me know. I hope this is making sense. If not, I am sorry. I don’t want to cause any more emotional upheaval, especially when we can’t through it because you are not here.

Kat, I only want what is best for you. Can you tell the hormones from the cancer treatment have kicked in big time? I get very emotional when that happens, so please bear with me. At least it is better than me getting cranky.

Well, I better wrap things up and get home to dig up my garden. We are expecting frost tonight and my tomatoes are rotting on the vines because of all the rain.

Until I hear from you…good night, Moonbeam.




The Wedding Premonition

We married young. He was 20 and I was 21, both still wet behind the ears, yet thought we knew it all. How often do I wince when I hear of people rushing into marriage regardless of age or saying ‘I do’ when they’re barely out of their teenage years. We thought we knew what we were doing. We told everyone who questioned our sanity that we were meant to be, why wait? To our parents we smiled and laughed at their supposed silliness when they asked us to push off the wedding. Wait another year, they said. Or at least a few more months. I had fun telling people once we married that our one year dating anniversary was two days after our wedding anniversary. The looks of astonishment always filled me with a smug pride thinking we knew what we were doing getting married so young and fast.

We were supposed to marry in January of 2000, but our friends and family were concerned about the Y2K hoopla at the time. We thought it was no big deal. Do you see a pattern here? How all-knowing and wise we professed to be? Our parents asked us to change the wedding date to be safe. It could snow. We could lose power. The world could end. So, we did move it. Earlier. To October 1999. Not quite what they had in mind, to say the least. They were hoping we would push it further in 2000, even longer if they could. We surprised them all, announced our new date, and frantically threw ourselves into wedding planning. It was rushed – every last bit of it.

I was finishing my junior year in college in Ohio. The wedding was to take place in Pennsylvania at my parent’s church. We planned it for the Fall break, a short three-day weekend. The plan was go home, get married, and go back to Ohio to school. No honeymoon, no vacation, no nothing. Just everyday living. I remember it like it was yesterday.

It was my wedding day. The smell of wood burning and the tingling scent heralding the coming winter was in the air. I was sitting on a mustard yellow vinyl cushioned chair with brass colored legs in the basement of the church. It went well with the 70s era room – brown industrial carpeting, brown paneled walls, a non-working dirty brick fireplace. It all melded together in a sea of brown, punctuated in color only by the plastic yellow and orange plant, and my white wedding dress. Twenty minutes before it was time to line up for the processional down the aisle, I sat alone. My bridesmaids had all run off for final touch-ups in the bathroom mirror, adjusting their duck tape bras (their dresses were cut so low in the back, only duck tape was strong enough to hold up the D cup girls).

The scent of barbecued chicken wafted down the hall and through the doorway as the caterer started preparing the reception food. It was being held in the bright blue gym of the church which we tried to make look as romantic and unlike a gym as possible with yards and yards of white tulle and red roses. As I waited for the girls to come back to head up to the church sanctuary, I realized I felt…nothing. Empty. It worried me as I thought how brides say their full of butterflies before the wedding, full of excitement and anxiety. I tried to conjure up the anticipation, but all I could summon was the sensation of having to pee. Not quite what I was going for. Was something wrong with me? Am I really this cold-hearted that I feel nothing on my wedding day? Am I doing the right thing? I could hear the giggles of the girls as they flitted about, making sure everything was in its place.

My father and I didn’t have the traditional father/daughter moments before the wedding as he was officiating the wedding. Instead, my brother, Andy, was going to walk me down the aisle and hand me off to my future husband. He poked his head in, very unsure and nervous, and asked if I was okay. I forced a smile and said I was fine, excited, and can’t wait. He gave me a half-smile and looked like he was going to puke. I reassured him that he would be okay, it’s only a short walk and he doesn’t have to say much. He nodded and left quietly. My brother wasn’t much for being in the limelight. Neither was I, for that matter, so how could I be so calm? I reasoned that it was because of the flurry of preparations to get ready for this day, that I was worn out from it all. I’m sure that was it.

Someone snapped a photo of me sitting alone in the yellow chair in the brown room. I still have it tucked away with my wedding album, collecting dust. Looking at it now, I see the deer-in-headlights and the grimacing smile. I feel the ghost of emptiness as I stare into her eyes in the photo. Sadness envelopes me as I remember the innocence of that moment. If only she knew what life would become – a controlling husband, a miscarriage, an affair, and ultimately a divorce seven years later. I wish I could have saved her on that wedding day.