Wednesday, April 12, 2017
King Leary sat upon his throne, with his wife, Queen Sabbatha by his side on her throne. "We need to expand our kingdom, my dear!" the king exclaimed, always excited to have more. So, in her great skill and knowledge Queen Sabbatha took leave of her throne to talk with the king's advisors and builders, and formulated a plan, which pleased king Leary.
However, upon her return the queen discovered a woman from the neighboring country sitting on her throne, and the king had put here there, saying they were merely there for friendship, but Queen Sabbatha started searching and found a gift in the king's chamber showing that the woman Justina had sent secret love notes to him from before her arrival, and wrote thank-you's for his love he showed her in return.
The queen was livid, but knew her power, and so packed her things and left the king to work on expanding the kingdom himself, knowing full well that he did not know how to do this or even how to organize his builders and the plan, nor would this woman be able to stay on her throne since she was due back to her foreign land, nor did the woman Justina--however beautiful--possess the queen's talents to do what the king wanted for his kingdom. Immediately after the queen's departure, the king was incredibly sad and worried so sent his messengers to request the queen to return home, but she refused to respond for a fortnight.
After the king became ill from heartbreak and begged for his wife's return multiple times, saying he had sent Justina away for good, the queen decided it was time to go back home and help the king to finally expand the kingdom. It was her kingdom too, after all, and only she had the legal and ethical right to her throne. She also had no remorse for her king's emotional suffering; as far as she was concerned he brought it on himself. Had she been removed without her choice, she had rights to half the kingdom, and King Leary was aware of this as well. No woman was going to usurp Queen Sabbatha's throne for she had the upper hand all along.
Wednesday, March 22, 2017
My son died on January 23, 2017. We had him cremated (his choice) and the memorial was on February 4th, just two days before his 22nd birthday. We set up the service to accomodate about 40 people, but around 125 showed up... they pulled in extra chairs and were standing around the walls at the back--there was standing room only! Teachers and students from his high school attended and spoke, and his students/teachers/head of the Philosophy department at NMSU also attended/spoke/came up to give their condolences to us afterward as well. Jeremiah was an amazing young man... one college student told me that he looked up to Jeremiah, and that "he was the best student in the class" and he wanted to be just like him. Several young people said that Jeremy had touched their lives and helped them, or helped them become a better person, and two people said he "saved my life". My son's years in this world were short, but he made a positive impact. I wish I could have had the joy of having him here longer than we did, but I am grateful for the amazing time we did have together on this planet, in this physical reality. I look forward to seeing him in the next realms and worlds...
Here is what I read at the memorial...
I am Sharon Buydens, Jeremiah’s mom. When he was born we called him Jeremy, because Jeremiah seemed like such a grown up name for such a little baby. He was adorable with his light blonde hair and huge angelic blue eyes that sparkled when he smiled. Right away I knew he was special. Even as a baby, before he could talk, he would blurt out single words that he couldn’t possibly know, as if the Spirit of God were speaking through him. He always did well in school growing up. His childhood was pretty normal, at least Id’ like to think so. He was a good boy and easy to raise.
Jeremy had best friends and enjoyed skateboarding and watching super hero movies. Even at age eight his favorite hero was Spiderman, and he would dress up that way for Halloween, or other times. He had his big brother Tyler who was 8 years older, and his little sister Kira who is 2 ½ years younger. I can’t say that Jeremy’s death was expected, because it shocked us all when it happened. I am wanting to explain something that happened to me in alignment to my son, just a few months prior to his death, to show how Jeremiah and I had a mother-son connection, and what we can take away from this tragedy that has occurred.
On September 28th I woke up in the middle of the night from an attack in my body. It felt like the blood was pooling in my head, and I ached all over, and my face and head were completely numb, as well as my limbs. I thought I was dying, and I almost called 911. I went to the clinic that morning and they did a battery of tests but did not find anything. A week later another nighttime episode occurred, then a few days later. By the end of October I flew from Canada where I live down to El Paso and attended Jeremiah and Lauren’s wedding. It was lovely and absolutely perfect. I did not know it would be the last time I would ever see my son. I left and the nighttime episodes continued getting closer together, happening every other night, then every night, then several times a night. Each time I would wake up feeling like I had no blood in my head, my face was numb, and I would sit up and start breathing fast, trying to make my body stay alive. It was very scary and I was sure I was going to die in the night.
I started hearing knocks on the door at night and strange sounds in the other room—things that made no sense, since no one was in there. One night I woke up with one of these episodes and saw a tall lean figure about Jeremiah’s size standing by the foot of my bed looking at me, yet I could see no face. I suddenly wondered whether these episodes were something spiritual… but I wasn’t sleeping well, and had stopped dreaming altogether. I couldn’t focus on spiritual things, but even so, a sense of immanence was building, yet all I could see was anxiety about sleeping and what would happen in the night.
I was convinced that I was going to die in my sleep. But in reality, it was my son who died in my sleep.
Is it any coincidence that this intuitive manifestation of anxiety was akin to my son’s own anxiety in the night? I felt like that first night attack that blood pooled in my head, but that’s what happened to him. After that I felt like blood was not circulating in my body or my head, which is what happened to him after he died. It was at night, always at night… just like he died in the night. Yet I had no idea it was about Jeremiah until after he was gone. I put it all together because three days before he died these episodes stopped completely. Three days beforehand he started taking a new anti-anxiety medication, and three days before he died was the last time I texted him or talked to him. When the episodes were done that weekend, so was he. We knew he was stressed from work and school, but we had no idea that this would happen, or that he felt this way for what was evidently a long time. This event was officially marked as suicide by the medical examiner. Jeremiah left a note for his wife Lauren, and mentioned his family and that he wanted to be cremated, and what he wanted us to have of his possessions. It has been really difficult to come to terms with his choice to leave us at the young age of 21. This coming Monday would have been his 22nd birthday. Since his death I have heard him speaking to me, you know, in my own head, and heard him say, “I’m okay mom. I’m okay mom.”
Although his death has been challenging to believe, we all need to realize he’s okay now. We need to realize that if you have anxiety or depression, that stress is not something you have, it is something you do. Stress is a habit, a behaviour, a pathology in thinking, and death is a permanent solution for a temporary problem. I have viewed my own anxieties in a completely new light because of Jeremiah’s passing. From this point forward I think it is important that we all accept what has happened, and that we realize just how amazing he really was, and is. His spirit is still alive, and he has no more stress or worries or pain. Jeremiah is in the light because he was a light himself, with that sparkle in his eye, and his friendliness, compassion, and the great love he had for everyone he knew, which has been returned to him 100-fold by the people who are in this room, and beyond.
Everyone loved Jeremiah! Even to the end he was sweet and kind and considerate. He had these wonderful traits, you see. He helped people. He cared. We all saw it, and so it is important that we acknowledge this about him, to each other.
Jeremiah was such a good man, and as a boy he was a good boy… so easy to raise. If my kids were misbehaving when they were little I would count to three to make them listen… “or else”. My mom would sometimes watch my kids, and she would threaten to get the flyswatter to them if they acted like they didn’t want to obey, but she never really had to use it. They listened to their grannie and grandpa. As a kid, around age 9, I remember one time he ran into our house out in the desert exclaiming how he had found some bigfoot footprints near our house on some open land. He knew I had been doing some bigfoot research so we went out to investigate the footprints. I got there and looked at them, and their misshapen form, and said, “There’s no trackway, it’s as if bigfoot just walked into an invisible wall and disappeared! Where did he go?” Of course, I knew right then that Jeremy had made the footprints and so I called him on it. And of course, his answer was, “I know you wanted to see a bigfoot mom, and I just wanted to make you happy.” Of course he did. I just laughed and could not be mad at him at all. He was so cute, just wanting to make me happy. He always wanted to make people happy because he had such a wonderful caring heart.
I feel blessed to have known Jeremiah for his short life. It seems he was just getting started in life. He was such an incredible joy to us all, and I will miss him so much. I always, ALWAYS looked forward to seeing Jeremy every time he or I would visit. I sometimes wished that I didn’t live so far away because I only got to see him a couple of times a year, if that. I always looked forward to his warm hugs. I have so many wonderful memories of him coming to Washington state and to Canada to visit. He and Lauren both. We have memories of camping and hiking near Cloudcroft last summer, and going on the ferry to Vancouver Island in British Columbia a few years ago, and hanging out at the lake where I used to live where we hot tubbed and went to the dances and hiked to the waterfall. A few months ago I got to see him get married and we cooked a delicious meal together for the family. It was absolutely wonderful and I will cherish these memories of him always.
We were looking through pictures of Jeremiah this week and realized that many of the pictures we have of him show him joking around and sticking his tongue out at the camera. Perhaps like the bigfoot footprints, he always found a way to disguise good intentions with some funny jokester pranks. I guess he’s moved on to the Kingdom of a higher realm, and I hope in some way that he is NOT behaving himself, and is bringing laughter to someone in his own special way.
As a side note from my oldest son Tyler, Jeremiah’s big brother (who could not be here today), Tyler said… [LOOK UP AND POINT UP] About grannie, Jeremiah… "One day she's going to be there and she's going to have the flyswatter when she sees you!”
Gotta love ‘brotherly love’. I love my kids… and I will always love and miss you my sweet Jeremy. I love you more than you could ever know.
O my God! O Thou forgiver of sins, bestower of gifts, dispeller of afflictions!
Verily, I beseech thee to forgive the sins of such as have abandoned the physical garment and have ascended to the spiritual world.
O my Lord! Purify them from trespasses, dispel their sorrows, and change their darkness into light. Cause them to enter the garden of happiness, cleanse them with the most pure water, and grant them to behold Thy splendors on the loftiest mount.
Wednesday, February 1, 2017
It turns out that my nighttime episodes stopped 3 days before my son's death. The last time I texted him was 3 days before he died. He started taking an anti-anxiety medicine 3 days before he died due to his high stress levels from work and school and life. I had gone to Saturna island as a get-away with a friend to de-stress from the attacks 3 days before he died. The episodes occurred only at night, which were like a countdown... getting closer and closer together since Sept 28th when the first (bad) one started, until they were once a week, to a few times a week, to every other night, to every night, and finally several times a night. I was convinced that I was going to die in my sleep... but it was my son who died in my sleep.
It was prophetic. Psychic. Spiritual connection. (see my posting from Jan 7, 2017) I am known to have these, but it is usually hindsight before I figure out the full meaning of my premonitions. I had even figured out the gun (he shot himself in the head) part, and did not know how true it was, or would be. I had no idea it was my son. I kept thinking it was a physical health problem. Then the spirits started making noise and I saw a tall thin male figure in the night during one episode, but no face, so I couldn't see who it was. I was veiled, probably for my own protection. But some part of me knew.
My spirit knew... somehow... even a passing thought, like an intuitive moment 2 years before, where the saying that "it is harder to lose a child than a parent" made me ponder, and the first thing I thought of was, "Oh no, not my Jeremiah..." and even the age 21 came to me, so much that--just in case there was an accident (I never ever expected suicide)--I decided from that moment forward that ALL moments we have with our children, and parents, and loved ones, and friends, are a gift... a blessing... a temporary time that we can celebrate and appreciate and be grateful for their existence in our lives. Life is too short. I absolutely made it a habit to appreciate these precious times with my kids, and my parents, and others. It can all end in a snap. You never know. Even I could not predict this, but my spirit knew.
The nighttime episodes were difficult. The first one was different than all the rest. The first one was as if blood was pooling in my head. My entire head was numb, as were my limbs, as if plastic were over my skin and I could not feel. My circulation felt like it had stopped, yet I was alive. My entire body felt ill, and I almost called 911. I went to the clinic that morning and they started tests, but after 3 months and desperate visits they still could not find a cause, calling it anxiety or "panic attacks" at that point. I was picking up on my son's anxiety, and adding my own to it (I was afraid to sleep at night because I thought I was dying).
After that all the episodes became less severe, yet more frequent, and as if there was no blood in my head (rather than pooling), like they were getting closer together as if counting down to the moment of when death would occur. I wasn't getting rest. I had insomnia, like my son... and anxiety. Always between 1-4AM, being the worst of it. I stopped dreaming at night. I could not focus on anything spiritual in the day. I tried to meditate but only saw a waterfall or water or such, glimpses of things that were indicative of too much emotion and not enough answers. I knew I had to wake up and understand what was happening, but it was not available to me for whatever reason. Jeremy also had troubles at night, insomnia, and thoughts that haunted him. Existential anxiety. Guilt and voices in his head that he couldn't shake.
3 days after learning to de-stress at the island I found out my son killed himself. I lost it. I had to use what I had learned to cope and de-stress and worked on accepting what was happening... what had just happened. It helped me, although it did not take away the pain or the fact that we all missed him.
Somehow a mother's connection with her child is stronger than we realize. All of the nighttime attacks stopped except for the one night (3 days after he died) after I first flew into El Paso and stood on the spot where he dropped to the ground beside his car at the Sunset parking lot at "A" mountain on the NMSU campus in Las Cruces, NM. The attack that night was all me. I was responsible for it, for living out the anxiety from before, for the empathy I felt, and had trouble letting it go. I learned quickly that what I learned on the island is true... "stress is not something you have, it is something you do." Evidently my own son also experienced the doing part of this, and chose his fate the only way he knew would stop the stress once and for all. I do not blame him, I understand. I wish I could have shown him what I learned, but it is too late. I can only pass on the knowledge and hope it will help others. We cannot always know, even if our spirit knows, what is coming. Just be prepared for anything, and remember to love deeply and authentically, and focus on positive things.
As for me, I will focus on my son's life, not his death. He was a joy and a wonderful human being, full of compassion and love and sweetness. He was a straight A honors student in philosophy and we are proud of him, even though it was too much for him to bear. I will always love you Jeremy, and I will see you soon enough. I love you more than you could ever know.
Tuesday, January 24, 2017
Oh the pain of knowing that I will never hug or talk to or see my 21-year old son Jeremiah ever again in this life! He committed suicide yesterday morning, January 23, 2017 between 1:42-8:00AM MST at the Sunset parking area of A mountain on the NMSU campus where he attended school in Las Cruces, New Mexico. He was working plus going to college, and was starting his last semester before earning his Bachelor's degree in Philosophy. He over thought everything, like I do. He said the stress from everything was too much, and he said sometimes it felt like his head was going to explode from all of the things in his head. He was so close to the degree and was still making A's and was an Honors student. Everyone loved Jeremiah. He wanted to teach. He had that sparkle in his eyes, that life and warm love that everyone felt. What a fantastic man and new husband he was! Oh, how I grieve his passing! He hated being alone at night when his wife was at work... insomnia and thoughts about reality and guilt or whatever else seemed louder, he told me when I saw him 3 months ago. He wrote a note to his wife yesterday morning, in the night. Then he drove to the mountain and shot himself in the head... his head exploded his brains, just like he said it felt like. Oh My God, my sweet and precious son Jeremy! My shining star! I am so sorry that you felt this badly... that the anti-anxiety medication you just started on 3 days before didn't work. Was there a reaction? Or contraindications? You had always talked about stress and anxiety, but never suicide. Never. I'm so sorry. I wish I had known more, paid closer attention. I miss you so much. Never again will I have that chance to help you. I didn't even get to say I love you one last time, but I know you always knew it. I don't know what else to say... I'm so sorry my son. I love you so much.
Saturday, January 7, 2017
Sleep attacks... episodes during sleep. This is what was happening to her.
It started on Sept 28th, at 3AM in the night. She kept waking up briefly to fix her pillow, thinking her head was too low and blood was pooling in her head. Finally she woke up, SAT UP straight in bed, and breathed fast, trying to get circulation restored in her body. Her limbs were numb, her body felt like it was aching, ill, dizzy, sick, about to pass out, dying. Her face was even numb, and her skin all over felt like it was covered in plastic wrap. What was happening? Was she dying? Should she call 911? Breathe... just breathe... after 20 minutes it relaxed and her circulation seemed to restore.
A week later it happened again... to a lesser extent, but still scary. Then another week or so later. Within a month she was at the sleep lab, but apnea was not strong enough to warrant a CPAP machine. Then the episodes, even though not as severe, were becoming more frequent. Every few days apart, then every other day... then every night she would wake up with her face numb and dizzy... then several times a night. Meanwhile she went back to the doctor 4 times, requesting tests galore.
They HAD to get to the bottom of this! She tried everything from spiritual prayer and psychics, to naturopathic remedies, a medicine man's special healing tea, herbalism, radical diet change to a low-lectin diet, and she was no zero medications. Allopathic medicine was taking too long. Finally the Gastroenterologist gave her GERD meds, but they didn't help. Sleeping on propped up pillows semi-helped, but even sitting up, ultimately would cause her to wake up 10 minutes to a couple hours after falling asleep, gasping for oxygen and dizzy and numb. Sometimes her eyes went dim, or the lids compressed, as in an eye twitch that got stuck shut. Boatloads of blood tests and complete metabolic profiles (with anemia being the only thing wrong--which was fixed with iron pills--as well as hypotension), and a full thyroid panel, and more was done. An ECG was normal, but the Holter monitor for the heart was put on for 30 days. They ordered an endoscopy, colonoscopy, and EKG next.
By the fourth visit to the doctor, which was 3 months into the scene and still without a diagnosis, he said, "It does not look like apnea, and it does not appear to be your heart, or GERD related, and your neurological test and other tests are all coming out normal. I think you're probably having panic attacks."
So she got an anti-anxiety medication, temporarily, as another 'test' to see if it worked. So far everything she had tried seemed to work at first (including chiropractic care, and sleeping on her stomach), but within a day or so it would revert right back to the same problem of these nighttime episodes.
Stranger things were happening on occasion... she would hear a bump in the house, or a noise, that didn't belong. She was not the only one who heard it, so it wasn't imaginary. She began to wonder if this was a spiritual problem. Something, or someone, trying to tell her something. Aside from a tumor, and the psychic saying it was a constricted blood vessel and that something on the outside was pressing in on it too, she wondered if the whole mess were symbolic rather than literal. Spiritual rather than physical.
She began to pray and tried to journey (shamanism style), and in the upper world saw something shaped like an oyster mushroom, elongate and misshapen, wondering if it were something that could help (immune booster?). In the underworld she saw herself hovering over the top of the edge of a huge fast-flowing waterfall. Water, for her, meant emotions. Falling water could not be good, and it explained her recent realization that she was not only stressed, but had a lot of anxiety about even going to sleep, knowing she would wake up feeling like she was dying. It was getting to her, and she cried a lot, was emotional, even during the day, and not getting a good night's rest, ever. That was the end of her fleeting spiritual journey. Only once did she see an animal helper--an opossum that was standing up... what did it mean? They eat ticks and yet are immune to them, and they eat bugs (bugs are bad spirits in the otherworld). Maybe she needed to read the "Creating a Bug-Free Mind" book. Possums also 'play dead' to protect themselves from predators. To put up a false front... or is it that someone else is being deceptive? Aside from hearing bumps in the house, she also saw a face... a man's face, nondescript, and wondered who it was. Her scalp had been crawling on and off for months, like when someone is "touching" her... usually stealing energy. Who was using her? Who was deceiving her? Who was she needing to protect herself from? Where was the source of her stress, and inner pain, and extreme anxiety if these were panic attacks?
There were only two things that almost always were the main cause of panic attacks (aside from the fact that she once thought she had cervical cancer, and those two attacks were obvious as to their origin, especially since one happened in the doctor's office)... the two things that stressed her out most were 1) finances, and 2) relationships.
In September her significant other had told her she had to pay an additional $1,000 per month on her bills. This imposition was impossible to attain, and she felt so overwhelmed that she thought her only way out was to die and let the life insurance pay off the $47K she owed her family in loans, plus the $50K in business loans, plus the $50K in student loans. She was paying all her bills, but not fast enough for him. He resented her debts, yet he had his own--perhaps he was projecting. She became so distraught that this is when the suicidal thoughts began... and within a couple weeks the first attack during sleep occurred. Her goal became to pay off her parents by December. The closer to December the worse/more frequent the attacks became. Was this the source of the problem? December came and went, and the attacks continued.
Perhaps there are lessons here... about relationships and unreasonable expectations, and about debts that are more than one can handle emotionally. They're all being worked on, a little at a time. The family never asked for the money back, and certainly not within such a tiny time frame. The pressure was from the spouse. It was his issue, placed on her shoulders, and guilt tripped to drive it home.
She sat and thought about the symbolic meaning of the blood vessel, the blood being life... the vessel being the delivery, and constriction of that life flow, with pressure from the outside. "An MRI would show it", meaning a clearer picture of the problem. There are many ways to see such things, not all of them through technology. Spiritual seeing, symbolic meaning. The inner possum was playing dead... causing her to feel like she was dying, but it was not real. The mushroom is for seeing beyond the problem with new eyes and immunizing ones self against such sickness. The waterfall was the precipice, and if she allowed herself, she would fall straight down and the result would not be good. Out of control emotions are not healthy, especially if their direction is straight down in a rush. The possum, a nocturnal animal, was helping her see she did not have to die... she can stop at any time. She can choose life, and eat the mushroom, and avoid the waterfall. She can release the constriction of the blood vessel from within and without, and eliminate the outside pressure her 'tumor' was causing from guilt and demands that are unnecessary.
She now has to redesign her life. She starts with prayer... yoga... reading... CD's... meditation... walking... NLP... research... herbal teas... stress relief... new plans... love... loving the self... finding inner peace... neurofeedback... more spiritual practices like journeying and being closer to God... more often... so the sleep attacks can go away for good... the numbness in the face (not feeling her own true self and what she is supposed to look and feel like)... the numbness in the limbs (not doing things she should be doing)... the dim and pressure on the eyes (not seeing clearly)... the dizziness (not standing firm)... having to sit up to gain composure and circulation (not moving, seizing, stagnancy, feeling trapped, not breathing properly, not moving, sleeping-on-the-job)... gasping for air (feeling suffocated from the pressure and not being able to move)... all of these have meaning, and they all go back to the two main issues of finances and relationship.
The finances can work themselves out over time--all her bills are paid, as they always are. The problem is her relationship and the stresses that it is placing on her unnecessarily, like the force of a gun being pointed at her. It is as if it is a tumor in her soul... a binding that restricts her life... a pressure that comes when she is not paying attention... when she is sleeping. WAKE UP! See the signs, understand them. She must if she wants to live again. Until then, the blood is suffocatingly stagnant.
Friday, January 6, 2017
"What do you love about me?" she asked after lovemaking. Their sex had been both exciting and gentle... aggressive and tender... full of spanks while she was on top. The harmony and balance between the gender societal expectations had been superceded, the stereotypes brought back into harmony by her demands that he "force" her into submission while she remained in full control.
Yet it seemed imbalanced somehow, like it was mutual in its manifestation, yet singular in its meaning.
He was quiet, so she asked again, "What do you love about me?" He responded in gentle, kind, caring words... "that you kiss me... you give me bum-rubs, and back rubs, and cook for me, and treat me so well."
She realized he was dead serious.
He had entirely missed the question. What did he love about HER? Her qualities, her strengths, or even weaknesses,
His answers were not about her, they were about him, what he could receive from her... What she could DO FOR HIM. A user, perceived that the world revolved around him.
One-way love, unidirectional love. A love-sucking parasite... energy vampire.
Tuesday, September 13, 2016
She was reading the book Blink, about how in the blink of an eye people can know things about others. Sometimes it is that easy—to just know something—and sometimes people take the hard road. She realized that she had invested her love into a man without reading the signs… or else the signs had changed, because she couldn’t bring herself to open his birthday card to her.
Just days earlier, on his birthday, she had gotten him a birthday card first, and written a nice blessing inside for him. But his anger over something petty was so fierce that he let his temper rule over any love between them, and he tore her card in half.
She couldn't sleep that night, as he was in the living room and refused to be by her side, even though the argument was trivial. She prayed to God, and asked for Him to show her what was going to happen to their relationship, to their marriage. She prayed for wisdom and insight, and for a sign.
She quietly laid there, getting ready to pray, but first she wanted to make amends with him, to show him she loved him… to do an act of good will towards him, for there is nothing she would not do for him.
So she went and pulled that broken card out of the trash, and noticed it had not been removed from the envelope, so had not yet been read. If only he could see the contents and know how she feel about him! Surely he would soften and find forgiveness and love inside his heart for her. She quietly took the dismembered card to the bathroom and mended it while he slept. She taped the card together front and back, making sure with great care that the torn edges were matched at their raveled seams, and then taped the envelope front and back as well. She gently put the birthday card inside the envelope once again and placed it by the mirror so he would see it, and open it, and read it, and be blessed and know that she adored him.
She went back to bed, and prayed. After praying a special prayer she laid there quietly, listening to the first thing that came to mind. The answer to her prayer and symbol of good will was surely to come. She was sure God would tell her what to expect regarding their marriage and relationship.
She prayed the special prayer no less than 20 times....
Then she laid still, hopeful and wondering, listening…
She immediately heard her husband get up from his bed, walk into the bathroom, and…. he ripped up the card again, unseen. Unread, it was demolished again.
She burst into tears because that card represented her heart, her love for him, and it had been rejected, destroyed. She knew he would do the same thing to their marriage. It was clear. It was done.
In that moment she knew that their marriage would not last, because being angry was more important to him than being forgiving. Being contentious was more important than getting along. Destroying what they had, and the love that was freely given to him was more important than nurturing it and being grateful for what he has, she realized.
The proof, in her mind, that their relationship would end (in eventual divorce) was answered in that prayer, in the very moment of silence immediately after she had prayed it and was listening for God to answer. He did. He did answer it, but through the free will and choice He gives her husband to make the decision about what he wanted or didn't want in his life. She figured he makes that choice every moment of every day, and in every way in how he chose to treat her, his own wife. She should have known in a blink, rather than going to all this trouble to figure it out.
So that is why she never opened his birthday card to her… because he never opened hers. She was not resentful or revengeful enough to tear up his card, nor to even throw it away. It just sat there, unopened. She decided it would remain until he threw it away.
One day he would choose another woman again and rip her heart in two and would leave her for that woman, or for some dream that the grass is greener on the other side, woman or not. He would separate and date others, and divorce her, and maybe remarry or have the children she was unable to give him.
The day he would leave her would be that secondary rip to her card/heart, and the prayer would have come to pass, but he would never see her accept his love again after that. Once he would do this, any love he would give her after that would be refused just as she had refused to open his card.
The day he leaves her would be the last day he was to have access to that love.
She knew it was solely his choice.
It always was.