I’ve been divorced more than six months now. My dear son Sammy died over two years ago from unknowingly taking a synthetic drug that killed him overnight. Even now it is all too unimaginable…
I met Mr. Big in still yet a stormy time of my life and he somehow, unknowingly, made it all seem better. He was my Mr. Big with the charisma and sex appeal of the same character by that name that Carrie Bradshaw fell madly in love with in the t.v. series, “Sex and the City”. He said “Yes, dear” oh so sweetly, that it made the biggest smile appear on my face. A wide-mouthed grinning smile that I hadn’t recalled having since way before my son, Sam, died.
I had a sense of peacefulness knowing he was in my life. When we were together, peace was overtaken by his reaching for my hand or sideway glance which brought out the same in me. Our feelings for one another grew with the passing days. What was happening between us brought me an insight as to how I might still be able to live with the loss of Sam. I’d be the best that I could be and that seemed good enough. I could smile. I could laugh. I could live; at least for a little while.
Just like it went in the t.v. series for Mr. Big and Carrie in “Sex and the City”, so too, goes for me and my Mr. Big: what seemed good in theory, didn’t work. After many promising months of peacefulness, I was thrown back into feelings of more loss and more grief on top of what I carry with me daily with the loss of my child. In the simplest example of another overnight change in my life, what was once “Good morning”, “Smile for me” and “Good night” was instead a blank text screen staring back at me.
That’s when I realized he was the true-to-life Mr. Big character; the tumultuous kind who leaves others in tears as he goes off into the sunset for his next adventure without further ado. “He” was the kind of Mr. Big that left Carrie behind time and time again. I wasn’t Carrie though and my life, especially my already broken heart from my loss of Sam, wasn’t made for t.v.
What I hope for from my Mr. Big experience is the same as when we found each other; one day I will turn around and unexpectedly find what I was no longer looking for.