My sisters and I settle into are seats at the cupcake shop. Each of us grabbing the floral, china, cups in front of us while steeping our tea bags. We divide the cupcakes into three sections so that we can taste all of them.

As I often do the names will be changed to protect the innocent. I will call my one sister, “Foxy Roxie,” and my other sister, “Mod Marla” What can I say? They wanted more inventive names than my usual assigned, alias monikers.

“I had such a moment last night,” I say.

“What?” They both lean in somewhat intrigued.

“I was dragging my Christmas Tree down the driveway,” I say. “I felt empowered. I don’t need anyone. I am going to be fine.”

They both sit back stifling their laughter.

“That’s it?” Implores ‘Foxy Roxie.’ “You walking in your jammies, down the driveway in the dark, dragging the tree behind you and that’s when you have your moment of empowerment?”

“Hey, it’s a long driveway,” I protest. “I grabbed that sucker and I dragged it behind me and about half way I knew I was going to be fine. This divorce isn’t going to take me down. I am not afraid to be alone.”

At this point, “Roxie and Marla,” are full on laughing.

Me, I just sit back and smile because I know why I had my moment. While married, I had surrendered only a few tasks that I had always been fully capable of doing myself. I can drag a tree down a driveway with the best of them.

I just let someone else do it for me…for a while.

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