Hi.
"Fourteen years ago today …"
That’s how I figured I’d start this blog about my marriage to Teresa Pakiz.
Changed my mind.
Lemme start again, OK?
Ready?
Here goes:
Surfed the McPaper today and read an article about Neil Young’s latest project. Was struck by this quote from Neil: “"There's nothing to hide at this point, there's nothing to gain by keeping secrets….”
[Note to the people who just had heart palpitations, thinking I’m about to blow their secrets: Relax. And send money. Lots. Soon.]
That whole secret thing has been on my mind today, but I’d probably morph the word into “shameful secrets.”
You have them. You know it.
If you’re not ashamed of anything you’ve ever done – and I know people who fit into that category – you are hereby declared psychotic. Please move along. This is not the blog you’re looking for.
For all the good that shame does, especially in turning people to repentance, shame is not always healthy.
Ask anyone who’s been intimidated into an abortion or who has had a family member go on a shooting spree. They’re not the guilty ones … but they can be overwhelmed by guilt and shame nevertheless.
As Joey the Wise says, “Most of our wounds are self-inflicted.” (Can I get an “amen”?) But not always.
There’s a politician in my area who’s in deep feces because he loaned (hello?) millions of dollars to his son-in-law, who then went broke (hello? a *second* time) and left the politician responsible for millions of dollars worth of business debt.
Yes, there is a Proverb that says “Everyone who goes surety will surely suffer for it,” but my point is lots of good people get hurt when someone they depend on goes to the Dark Side. Ask your divorced friends.
***
Back on this date in 1996, I married a lovely lady. Teresa Pakiz, a beautiful woman from Minneessoottaa. Had a fun wedding. Outside. The reception was BBQ and Bug Juice. (Yup, printed that way on the invitation.) More fun times followed.
No one knows what they’re in for when they get married. Allow me to be gracious and just say “it didn’t work out.”
[Listening to the tune Winter Solstice by The Tea Party on Pandora.]
***
150 Days
How long it takes to build a house.
The shelf life of Land ’o Lakes shredded cheese.
How long Noah’s ark was adrift.
The time it takes to grow a fingernail from the cuticle.
The shelf life of beer, if kept in a cool, dry, dark place.
The time it takes a moose to grow a full rack of antlers.
How long it takes to foreclose on a house in Idaho
The time it takes breeding trumpeter swans to build a nest and lay four eggs.
The shelf life of chocolate cupcakes.
The time it takes for a cotton seed to make bolls.
How long my marriage to Teresa Pakiz endured.
The shelf life of unopened ranch dressing.
What’s the shelf life of Twinkies? Twenty-six days.
What’s the shelf life of pain? I’ll let you know.
But facing pain, shame, guilt, broken dreams, unfulfilled expectations, bitterness and secrets is the path to health.
This blog has everything to do with me disarming unwarranted shame.
(Don’t believe me? Ask God.)
I regret the unfortunate demise of my union with Miss Pakiz, more than a decade ago. The longer you know me the more you’ll hear me say, “Big mistakes take teamwork.” I contributed more than my share to our team.
Our team lost.
Big time.
***
That was then. This is now.
I no longer care if you know that a woman I deeply loved left me after 150 days.
Someday, if I stumble upon the secrets that you protect, I’ll tell you: “I understand. Do what you can to heal the past. Then, move on. And I’ll love you, no matter what.”
***
Today
There’s something I’m tremendously proud of: I am a Sutherland. Coincidentally, I bear the same name as the Sixth Earl of Sutherland.
I reject the fear and shame that haunted me for years about my failed marriage to Teresa. To hell with it.
***
I hope that this vent will enable you to deal with unpleasant wounds – self-inflicted or not – in your past.
Also, I hope this vent will help enable me to deal with the future, as I seek God’s strength to live up to my primary heritage as a child of God.
Blessings.
Wise words, Robert. That stuff isn't easy to live with, much less share. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteWe find community in our poverty of spirit. We need one another, if only to lean on.