Mourning the loss of someone I thought I knew

I've been thinking about the feelings that come after a relationship has died. I'm sure that I'm not alone on this one. I was with a friend last weekend who said she knew her marriage was coming to its end when they spent a full day together and shared no eye contact. That broke my heart.

When I began the journey of rebuilding my existence after an ill-fated marriage, I had such hope that when I started dating again, I would be ready. I would avoid the pitfalls that damaged my experiences of love in the past. I would be a gentler soul. The next time out, I'd know how it was done.

I'd work on myself as a woman, as a Buddhist, and as a partner. I did all of those things and for a while, we were good together...

I remember having a love so ripe that when we were together, I enjoyed stroking his eyebrows. I remember us laughing and bowling and doing the kinds of things that young couples in love do, but then it changed. The behaviors that I once thought were strange became clearer and the signs steadily came that I was with an abuser. I went from being liberated as a divorcee to having to come into my own home walking on egg shells. Not a pretty sight...

The abuse became intolerable and no, I'm not saying at any point it is acceptable, but I reached my breaking point when my daughter as an infant saw one of the episodes errupt. That was it. I could not bear the thought of my beautiful child -- who depends on me for her measure of womanhood -- growing up to believe that abuse in any form is a normal part of a relationship.

That is where I am today. I tried to think of some witty and poetic ending that shows how saddened I am by the loss of the normal relationship that we once had, but I could not find the words...

Brush with The Greatest

I've been reflecting this evening on Muhammad Ali. He's been in the media for receiving awards and opening a museum based on his career. Allow me to say that I am humbled...

This summer, I had the privilege of meeting The Greatest. I was humbled. He was walking out of the hotel that we had stayed at the previous night when my daughter's dad turned to me and said, "That looks like Muhammad Ali!" Knowing that there aren't a slew of people in Detroit who "look like" Muhammad Ali, I turned around. There he was casually going for his morning stroll.

The Champ was walking with two young people and we got into our car. We were thinking that we didn't want to impede on his morning exercise, but then rethought it and figured that this would be one of those great moments that we could later tell our daughter that she'd participated in...

We slowly approached them and I asked him if we could take his picture with the baby and he nodded yes. Then he reached out and picked up my dearest, only daughter and held her up near his face. My heart paused and I thought, does he need help holding her? But instead he held her firmly and kissed her tiny cheek.

I took the picture and was humbled. But as I looked at him, there was something more...

His eyes sparkled and they looked as though he cherished holding my daughter. This tiny person who didn't even have a clue that she was in the presence of greatness... His eyes danced with the knowledge that to even a couple of twenty-somethings, he was still The Champ. There were so many words hiding behind his eyes. I can only have wished to have met him when those words could have escaped...

This one's for you, Champ.

I know where I'm going and I know the truth, and I don't have to be what you want me to be. I'm free to be what I want. ~Muhammad Ali


I wish people would love everybody else the way they love me. It would be a better world. ~Muhammad Ali