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I enter my home, sink into my chaise lounge and weep. The tears that find their way out are not slow and graceful, but violent and thunderous. I try to muffle them, but they show no signs of being quieted. I pick up the phone, dial my friend, “Charo,” and while I try to speak,…

I often say that I write of love. If you go to my website (www.colleensheehyorme.com) and to the, “About Me,” page it is how I define my brand. I also say that ‘love,’ is as simple, yet as complicated as the concept of ‘brand,’ is to business. The marketer in me realizing that love is…

  I am chatting with someone. In a well-intentioned attempt to make me feel better, they explain that divorce is really not such a big deal. On the contrary, they know people who are now happier since they have divorced. This is absolutely true. It is why I have ultimately surrendered to this path. However,…

  I exit the grocery store and make my way to my car. I open the door and throw my bags on the floor. I slide into the seat. I sit for a moment while I wait for my youngest son, Danny to make his way back to the car. A woman walks on the…

I shift from side to side in the bed and punch at the pillows. I spray lavender into the air. The fan hums a white noise lullaby, yet sleep evades me. I fight it at first, but soon I begin to cry. It is not long before my eyes are so puffy that the tears…

I grab for a book and realize my heart is too heavy and my mind too crowded to absorb it. I know that in the struggle of divorce there are days where no energy exists to absorb words of wisdom despite the fact that I crave them. I am reminded why I write this column.…

We sit nestled under an umbrella. The late August sun peeks out around us. We are jabbering relentlessly because far too many years have passed between us. The waiter stops to take our order only to be ushered away while we chat some more. For me there are not enough hours in this visit. I…

It is not long after I start my divorce that things get even more complicated and I am feeling a mixture of fear and hope. I hear a knock at the door. It is my friend. I will call her, “Rosalita.” In she walks, hands dripping with friendship filled gifts to ease my pain. I…

My large family is competing for air space around the dining table. I am comfortable here. Actually I am happy here. I glance at my uncle and I see, that he too, is happy in this space. The food is trademark yummy and is being tossed back and forth. For a moment, here and there…

This past November, I sat outside with the slight chill of early winter rushing through the air. There were six of us, old friends noshing on food and filling up with laughter. A few weeks later, I pull my car alongside my mailbox, pull the door down and snatch the mail. I spy a handwritten…
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