Day one of this honest, sardonic and eye opening blog…
Not for the faint of heart….
Warning: Let the lighthearted beware….I have a mouth…errr…an unfiltered one…so you may want a drink while reading this…
Why Jesus? Why Divorce? Why Over Forty? And why the hell would you combine the three????
1970 Something…
Ever since I was a child, Jesus has been shoved down my throat (figuratively) all the while a penis was shoved down my throat (literally!). Gross, I know…Imagine…every Sunday going to church and the good preacher raising his hands high in the air wearing his dark black robe telling all the $30k a year parishioners, “Your sins are forgiven! Now go home and be free of sins” (only to commit sin number one the second you entered your car or in my case the second the NFL games started!). Hence, Jesus, has been the foundation of my hypocritical youth. Confusing, I know…But it’s a start…
February 3, 2015
Today…
Let’s fast forward to today at my mother’s house where I cringed as I saw the magnet of my mother and him, the dead child molester (Pancreatic cancer took him 5 years ago—and, yes, they were still married– right after I turned 40—hence the domain name—in 6 short weeks…damn, the luck…). It should be noted that my mother stayed married to him and supported him even after knowing all the gruesome details of his philandering (is that the correct word when it’s your child and not another woman?). She told me at the mature age of 22 that I needed to get over it as, “Jesus Christ has forgiven him and so have I.”
Back to the Magnet….
The red, heart shaped magnet of her and him on the fridge was holding up artwork created by my son. Yes. That’s what I said. My son. My 4th and last child. His sweet and innocent, young hands created this endearing piece of art that was being held up by the very man who shoved his penis down my throat at the tender age of 8. And, yes, Robert, my 4th is 8 years old. It was clearly time that I lost it. And, if you’re going to lose it, you may as well REALLY lose it!
Yes, the “do me” red heart shaped frame was immediately removed from the fridge and broken into many pieces and the picture of the “sweet” couple with so many dark secrets was burned by my 15 year old son who felt the need to protect me. Come again? My son protects me but not my mother? Let’s not digress (at least not at this moment) as I feel liberated…Well, actually, my liberation came the day the molester died. And, what a wild ride it has been these past 5 years. The stories to come will detail a woman going thru a massive transition from a monotonous, monogamous decade in my 30’s of raising babies to a wild, pill popping, over sexed, fucked up selfish ride in my 40s.
30 days of a mental and emotional cleanse starts today with the commencement of this blog.
0rkkoi