When we went to Nana and Pops' house on Sunday, there was a new, beautifully framed picture above the piano. It was the picture of their sealing day at the Bountiful Temple. Pops is SO proud of this picture. Know why? It took him a lot of painstaking time to take someone out of the picture and make it look like he was never there. It's a beautiful picture. My mom is especially glad that Miss Brooklyn is in it. And, she should be. Brooklyn will always be part of us, even if we don't see her anymore. We love her so.
Also on Sunday night, I sent someone a text message. My children thought that is was, perhaps, a bit harsh. My parents didn't. They said that I said exactly what they were thinking. The text message read: "Hi J. I'm mailing the divorce papers tomorrow morning. I have to be honest and say that I'm disgusted that I am paying for a divorce you caused. Not to mention the last year of trying to put me and my kids' lives back together because of your lies, cheating, and complete dishonor. I would like to plead with you to stop ruining lives. You've hurt so many more people than you know. Unfortunately all that you care about is you. Stop teaching your children to lie and to be like you. The fact that you're teaching your daughter to lie about who she is with is heartbreaking. You're teaching her to lie just like her dad. I have no doubt that you have plenty of mistresses that you are living a fantasy life with. Your addiction to women, attention, and your own wants is something I'll never understand. I used to believe that the fact I paid your bills, paid for everything actually, loved your children like my own, worked two jobs so you could coach, took care of everything made me special. News alert: I'm special and worth it just by being me. If you have any shred of honor at all, you'll step up and figure stuff out. You'll pay be back for this divorce so I can buy groceries. How lucky are you that you can choose to not work at a second job? Living with your dad, behaving like your sister. Some of us single parents have to work two jobs because no one else is going to step in and pay rent, utilities, and give me a car to drive. I'm relatively certain no one will ever love your children the way I did. But you don't care. It's all about you, not them. Goodbye."
I want to focus on the part about my definition of "special." I'll blog about that tomorrow.