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She had six more children, though two were girl twins who died at birth in 1912.
Frank and Lizzie were married for 38 years until his death in 1947.
I saw the big picture, and it was complicated, sobering. At first, the relief of reconciling was wonderful and I thought that the separation was really the last ingredient of moving past all this, and being happy again. And he’s a better man, father, and spouse for all that we have struggled together. Its either accepting this sadness and moving forward with what is otherwise good, or going through the pain, complication, and destruction of a divorce, a two-home co-parenting relationship, of introducing (eventually) new people, new family systems, into this increasingly complicated situation, a greater financial burden…
Its been two months and I’m back to trying to wrap my head around this marriage. The man he is today is a kind, loving, generous, sweet, intelligent, successful man. And he is the father of my children, and a good father. We don’t have to sell the house, our home remains intact. On the other hand, I see the marriages of my friends and family members and, while they are not perfect and while I know that I can never really know what goes on in other marriages, there is a sort of… You know that feeling like, if you could do it all over again, of course you’d marry him? That you just accept him for all he is, and he accepts you, and that is what love is?
A knight errant, if up to no good (and perhaps ashamed of his behaviour) would not want to be identified, so he would cover the crest on his shield with a black cloth - black affront - hence the Scottish phrase meaning 'embarrassed'. Maybe it was the wartime rations that left us hungry.
days about the age of 4 up to 10 years when we were always out scrumping in the long gardens, plums, pears, apples, gooseberries, peas, broad beans...whatever! We knew where to get hazelnuts in season and all the wild fruits, strawberries and raspberries, with the yellow ones a particular favourite.
lack of utter brokenness that I miss, that I know I can never regain with my husband, and that makes me so sad. I have gained a new respect for him because of these years of hard work.
Four years later Lizzie married my grandfather, Frank Ryan.
We were able to experience, and imagine, what divorce and a two-home family would be like. Everyone would be okay no matter what direction we ultimately took. I would have married my ex-boyfriend if I knew then what I know now. Well, my “the One” certainly wouldn’t have spent 4 years screwing hookers. And, in truth, I see him for who he is TODAY and I don’t want to lose that man. I think I am at a place where I do believe a marriage can survive. I do believe there is life, together, beyond D-day and that the two people can even grow stronger, more real, than before. That you accept a life of peace and contentment, but not happiness.