I weighed in on Friday morning because we were going away for the weekend. I weighed in down 1.6 and am delighted by this result. Then I went off to Iowa. Unfortunately, my eating was way way off all weekend. I will be on damage control the rest of the week.
We got to my sister's place at around 10 PM. We sat down with a cocktail and had a nice visit. We made plans for the next day and at 4:30 I got up and took my beautiful sister for a run. She's not a typical runner, so we did short intervals but she kicked ass. I hope she liked it because it's such a healing thing for me. No matter how stressed I am, the nature of the way I run helps me every time. I methodically count my breaths in and out. With each breath, my stress erodes. She could really use the stress relief.
My beautiful, sweet, loving sister is going through the hardest time in her life. She's struggling to bring herself and her three children through a divorce. It's new and the wound is fresh. Unfortunately, the wound is through scar tissue. I've written before about my parents divorce and how it left its scar on each of us. Unfortunately, their divorce happened right when my sister was starting to form certain ideas- right as she was going into kindergarten. My parents divorced amicably, but their marriage before they split up was absolutely god awful. They didn't just fight. They brawled. There was screaming. There was excessive drinking. People didn't keep their hands to themselves. A fight would erupt and Amanda and I, without arrangement, would go into Jennifer's room and huddle together with her. We'd cry, clinging to each other, because we knew when it came down to it, we were all we had in the world.
One particularly brutal night Amanda- age 4 or 5- about the same age my son is now, went down to try to stop the fighting. Unfortunately, it turned into a verbal tug of war- "come here sweetheart and show me who you love more." It was awful. It's both burned into my memory and kind of fuzzy and blocked out. There are plenty of examples of times like these. You can see why my parents terrible divorce left wounds that haven't healed in all three of us. Those wounds are particularly deep in Amanda. My heart hurts for her that her situation is as it is.
She's trying to protect three children from the ugly reality of the dissolution of her marriage, leaving as few scars as possible. She's hurt, she's angry, she's sad, and above all else, she's frightened. She's faced with changing virtually everything in her life in just a matter of days. She's doing really well, but doesn't know what she should be doing. I told her she doesn't need a map for how she should be proceeding right now. She just needs to keep moving.
I know she's receiving an exhaustive amount of advice right now. A lot of it from an angry place by sisters frustrated by her husband's behavior. I know she's overwhelmed. I know her family isn't always upbeat and positive about her situation, in particular about her estranged husband. But she's doing really well. She's making a lot of really good strides. I'm proud of her.
I love you, Miss Amanda B. You're one of the best friends I could ever hope to have. I'm so proud of you. Keep your chin up, honey. You are amazing.