Life After Death: The Years Between My Mother's Passing and Reconnecting with Mr. X

I don't remember much from the first months after my mom passed. I temporarily moved in with my boyfriend and his parents, I was with them during the holidays and my 20th birthday (two days after Christmas). I don't remember the details of this time but I know they showed me love and provided a safe place for me to grieve. In early January I found a job in the medical records department of our local, award winning hospital. Shortly after, I moved into my own apartment which happened to be right next door to my brother. I started taking social dance classes and found my happy place in dance. Later that year my boyfriend headed off to college. We tried to make long distance work but ultimate broke up. I will forever be grateful for him and his family for surrounding me with love in what was then the most painful time of my life. To this day his mom and I remain close friends and see each other often.

For as long as I can remember I have wanted to be a mother, at just six years old I knew I wanted to have one child of my own and then adopt. I remember having a conversation with my mom about this before graduating high school. I'd been raised with strong willed feminists and felt guilty for not wanting to pursue a career, my strongest desire was to be a mother. Likely due to own childhood, I wanted more than to just be a mother, I wanted a family. I'd seen my mother struggle as a single parent. So, I waited to find my person.

In my early twenties I met someone and fell in love. We dated for a couple years and then got married. He came from a large, fun, Italian family whom I loved. Our marriage only lasted six months, because as it turned out he didn't really like anything about me. I still wanted some independence and liked to spend a portion of my non working hours dancing or working on craft projects. He would become upset because I didn't want to spend all of my free time with him. When I was crafting in our spare room he was in the living room gaming or working on his music. He wanted me to be in the same room, but when I would try to bring my projects into the living room he thought it was too distracting. He wanted me to just sit and watch whatever he was doing - to be clear, this was not his behavior prior to marriage. He was a very passionate person so when he was upset he would rage. If I locked myself in our bedroom to get away from him, he would pick the lock on the door and come in screaming. He once cornered my dog, who'd done something he didn't like, and when my cornered dog gave a warning snap in the air he threatened to kill him the next time he "tried to bite" him. Close to the holidays he gave me a list of things he couldn't stand about me, with stars indicating the most important ones. He informed me that if I couldn't fix the starred issues, our marriage would be over. The starred issues were: you leave your pajamas on the bathroom floor during the day, you spend too much time with your brother, you spend too much time crafting, you always want to take your dog when we go places. I don't remember the rest of the list, which consisted of 10-15 issues. I let him know I was not willing to give up what he wanted me to. I realized then that we hadn't talked about our expectations of marriage before getting married, and as it turned out we had very different ideas of how should grow together. We agreed we would just get through the holidays and call it quits. That New Years Eve I spent the evening and night with my brother and his girlfriend. My husband spent it with his friends. When I came home in the early hours of the morning he was staggering drunk. He passed out and started vomiting. I realized as I was taking care of him that while I cared that he didn't die, it was not out of love. Any love I'd had for him was gone. I left the next day. In retrospect I realize that we were never a good fit but I loved that he had a large family and that is what attracted me the most. I promised myself that if I ever married again it would be for good, that we would discuss our expectations and life goals, and most importantly, I would never let anyone treat me so poorly again.

After my divorce I rediscovered my love for healthy eating, and healthy living. Growing up my mom always gardened, made our tofu and butter, baked bread, and primarily only allowed us home made treats - always made with half whole wheat and less sugar than called for. I was enjoying finding new recipes and cooking or baking with and for friends. I moved in with my brother and his girlfriend, who happened to also be one of my best friends (they are still together so she will henceforth be referred to as my sister in-law). My sister in-law talked me into taking a watercolor class with her - something my mom and I had done when I was in high school - and I rediscovered my love for watercolor. I also started making all of my Halloween costumes, learning new sewing and crafting techniques along the way. My mom had always nurtured my creativity and I felt connected to her anytime I worked on a project. I still do.

In 2010 I received a small inheritance and purchased my home. I'd grown up in rentals where were weren't allowed to paint the walls, and they were always sterile white. The first thing I did when I got my keys was paint with color, lots of color. I chose a warm and inviting peach tone for the main living space and added a bright terracotta accent wall, the kitchen was a buttery yellow with a bright green accent wall with white polka dots. My room was the lightest sky blue with gray brown accent wall, my bathroom a warm sand. The guest room was a fresh minty green and my craft room and main bathroom were painted a warm white. I already had most of the furniture for the house but found a brown sofa with warm apricot threads interwoven through it. The house was bright and fun, and it was all mine.

In my mid twenties I continued to dance, cook, bake, and craft. I dated casually, still waiting for the right fit. Through the years my dance instructor and I had become close friends and confidants. When we both found ourselves single at the same time we started seeing eachother. After more than a year I could tell he didn't share the same feelings. I let him know how I felt and when he made it clear that I was right about his lack of feelings I broke it off. A week later we had a performance together and he showed up with a girlfriend. The night was excruciating, it was all I could do to get through the show. At the end of the show I said it was nice to meet her, wished them a good night and left. He seemed bewildered that I wanted to leave so soon. It was years before I danced again. In one night I had lost love, a best friend, and dance.

At 28 I started dating someone who had a young son. It was so much fun to share my love for crafting with a child. We made crafts for all of the holidays and baked cookies for Christmas. That same Christmas my sister in-law announced her pregnancy. She made everyone onsies that stated their title, mine of course said AUNTIE. The gesture was very sweet and I was so excited for the addition to our family, but it also broke my heart. She and I had always talked about being pregnant together and I clearly was not at the point in my life I had hoped to be by 28. Not only did the announcement bring my lack of child bearing into focus but it also made me vastly more aware of my mothers absence. She would have loved learning she was going to be a grandmother. I felt her absense so deeply that I cried the entire drive home. The sadness lessened as time passed and my sister in-law grew closer to her due date. My boyfriend ended our relationship, and while I was sad, I was not heartbroken. What I missed the most was the bond I'd formed with his son.

By 30 I was thuroughly enjoying my single life. I dated here and there but never found anyone I could see myself settling down with. Living in Northern California defintely contributed to this. We had an abundance of men with what I call Peter Pan Syndrome - they did not want to grow up and the small town marijuana culture made it easy for them not to. Money was flowing through our town and every fall a slew of immigrant workers, what the area dubbed Trimmigrants, would stream through our town. Our local pub would be filled with people from all over the world. Open mic night was filled with spectacular culture and music - unparralleled in such a small town. I learned to be more outgoing and social. I had a couple solid groups of friends - my going out friends and my work friends. Time with both groups filled my cup to overflowing. Friends from both groups started to marry and have babies and as much as I was enjoying my life I still knew there was a piece missing. My twenties were over and I still had not found my person. I was still waiting.

Photo credit: MPhotgraphress

Photo Credit: Steve Eberhard

One of my favorite Halloween costume creations. (I swear my kitchen was a butter yellow, the lighting makes it look much brighter than it was)

If you can, please consider donating to my GoFundMe campaign titled 'Help Holly Recover from Financial Abuse and Avoid Bankruptcy'. If you're unable to donate, sharing the link below with your network would be greatly appreciated. I hope to raise funds to pay down the $100k+ debt left to me by Mr. X in order to alleviate some of my financial stress and focus on processing and healing from the trauma. I have always been fiercely independent and struggle to ask for help but I am overwhelmed and exhausted and truly need help with this financial burden.

https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-holly-recover-from-financial-abuse?utm_source=customer&utm_medium=copy_link&utm_campaign=p_lico+share-ai-sheet&utm_content=share_ai_integrated