At age 51, I scrapped my marriage of 17 years, took it down to almost nothing, and got ready to return to my first love. My first husband and I were separated 23 years after our marriage disintegrated in only 20 months. Now we just celebrated our 21st anniversary. With grace this sick body may make it to 23, which may make it serendipitous indeed.
Wow, Sribbleseed. My heart sings, my body dances in celebration of your reunion. A rare story. I’d love to hear more … 23 would be amazing. Wishing you the best health to enjoy all your days together. Thank you for reading. I appreciate you very much.
Prajna, my name is Linnea Johansson. I follow Stephanie Raffelock too. I chose Scribbleseed as a handle but I do not post (yet). So much story but so little time to tell it.
Thank you for sharing your mother, her gentle strength and your relationship.
"I want to come back as one of your children." Heartstopping.
The details are so rich and I found much to relate to.
I couldn't help but think of my own mother throughout this story, who, in a way, left and came back. But maybe didn't leave for long enough.
At 30 I was a person who'd gone straight from my parents to boyfriend to young marriage. I'd never been single or alone. I went on a long trip by myself. My husband's idea – he knew I needed to fly solo for a bit. Encouraging me was a big risk for him – I might not have come back, but I did.
I love the detail about your mother comparing cakes. My mom had a sister relationship like that and I'm sure said something similar to me on a car ride home from her house.
Dear Tina, this really touches me. Thank you for sharing part of your story with your mom and flying solo. I had two early proposals but lacked role models that I would wish for. I’m still unmarried but I have three special girls. Glad for that. I look forward to reading more of your stories. Thank you again.
Wow. This is deeply moving... every small detail. I truly have a deep sense of who she was and I feel that I have known her a bit. She has touched my heart through your heart. THIS is magnificent: “I want to come back as one of your children.” The ultimate compliment. The ultimate seeing of your salty and sweet heart. xox
What a beautiful portrait of your mom and wonderful details of your childhood, although there were certainly challenges.
I was in a horrid marriage for 15 years (I refused to leave because of the stigma of divorce and I kept wanting to make it work), until I got breast cancer. My husband never helped me nor went to my chemotherapy and radiation treatments with me. I was alone.
After treatment ended, I did some thinking and realized that all I had been doing throughout the marriage was existing, not living. I wanted to live. Although it was so difficult to do, I left -- and never came back. We got a divorce.
And then the best thing happened: I discovered who I really was, and who I was wasn't lost anymore. I made friends and had a fulfilled life, which I still have to this day. I am grateful I left the marriage. It took a lot of courage, but I'm glad my life has unfolded the way it has.
Wow, dear Beth, thank you so much for sharing your powerful story of leaving to claim yourself, who you are, and to live a fulfilling life. I saw your like and thought, oh, it's Beth, I hope she tells me here story and here it is. I am touched and inspired by your courage, and so happy you are living your best life. Thank you, dear sister.
Your words reached me at a time when I, too, am preparing to leave. Unlike your mother’s return, I don’t know if I will come back—or if there is truly anyone to return to. My younger brother, eighteen years apart from me, has built his own life, woven himself into his wife’s family. My roots feel quite rotten by now. There is maybe recognition, but love, not truly. Responsibility was what held me.
Leaving, for me, is not just about stepping away but acknowledging that the place I once called home no longer will exist in the way I knew it. and that is a good thing. Many a trauma happened here.
My people are by now mostly gone. My brother is my closest living relative. There are 4 cousins which whom I have no contact, and you are by now more than a friend to me, than anybody here in my hometown Einbeck.
Your mother’s story reminds me that sometimes, leaving is an act of self-preservation. That even if the return is uncertain, the journey itself can hold meaning.
Hello Jay, Thank you for reading and for your tender response. Your words touch me deeply. I miss my mother dearly as out of that large lot, she is the one I felt closest to. My kid brother Max and I will always have a special bond, yet he is on the other side of the country, and we rarely see each other. I am the only one on the West Coast. It sounds like you are doing some deep inner work to rehome yourself. I am happy and proud to call you a dear friend. I see you. Thank you!
Oh Prajna, thank you for these kind and grounding words. I feel the bond you carry with both your mom and Max—how distance can stretch, but not sever it. Yes, I am slowly rehoming myself, layer by layer. It means the world to be seen in that. And to be called a dear friend by you—soft paws on my heart. I see you too. Always.
Thank you for this powerful story. Your mom is such a badass! So often the story ends another way, in fact I may not know anyone so brave. I love that you are memorializing her and that you took her name. 🩶
Thank you so much for reading Lyns. Yes she was a tender badass. I love the name O’Hara, a consistent reminder of her. I appreciate so much that you shared this precious woman.
Thank you so much for this beautiful piece. And for asking us all to pause. I have not been very still in my mind of late but finding your writing and this piece stopped me and allowed me to breathe deeply while feeling the words. I am so very grateful you somehow understood your mother, and her leaving and returning,and that the love continued on. The grace you gave is no small thing but it lives on now. So thought provoking and heartfelt. Thank you. ❤️
Thank you for your very kind words. I am so happy that you had a chance to breathe deeply and feel yourself back home in your body.
Yes, all of this writing has given me such a deep appreciation and compassion for the women who have gone before us. It’s become quite a passion of mine. I think it’s a result of my heart feels much more expanded. Thank you for stopping by and reading. I appreciate you.
What a beautiful tribute to your mother, perfectly encapsulating the steel frame surrounded by softness that defines so many women. How strong she was!
Prajna how beautifully moving this story of your mother’s life, and yours, is. What an incredible woman. What she told you when you asked, ‘Why did you leave us?’ It gutted me. And this: ‘In those final weeks, I saw her—and met her—as I never had before.
Not as the woman who couldn’t walk or read, but as the woman who loved fiercely, gave endlessly, and taught me what it means to leave, return, and fight for what matters.’ I felt exactly the same way about my fierce, independent, intelligent devoted mother as dementia took so much from her but not the love—never the love. 💕
Amy, thank you for reading and thank you so much for sharing about your mother. It’s amazing. The most important thing can never go away. I appreciate you.
Dear Prajna, thank you for directing me to this beautiful piece about your amazing mother. What a loving, gentle, formidable force she was. We were so lucky to have such powerful mothers who overcame so much to mother us fiercely without losing themselves. I wish I had known your mom. XO
Karina, Your kindness warms my heart. Yes, my mom was a gentle force. I miss her dearly, wish you knew her, and appreciate all of our mothers. Thank you so much for stopping by to read and celebrate mothers.
Thank you so much for reading and for this lovely comment. Yes sometimes life can feel like an upside down pineapple cake. I guess our task is to find the sweetness in it.
I just read your post. I am in tears. There is so much there. Your mom was an incredible woman and she modeled something so important to you and your daughters. I can see where you get your incredible strength. I am also in tears because March 19 is also my gran's birthday. The matriarch of our family. It would have been her 96th birthday this past week. She is one of my Angels and I have never known anyone to possess so much love than she did - even though she also had a tough and somewhat controlling husband (who became a lot softer and more loving later in life). These women endured so much and yet gave unconditionally. Your post also speaks to what I am going through right now. Having left my home, and my relationship, in the hopes of reclaiming myself. Today has been a hard and sad day, and reality is setting in. I haven't been able to mourn, but right now the tears are streaming, and I am feeling everything. Thank you so much for sharing this beautiful story xx
Wow Andy, I love this about reading and writing, we never know how it’s going to land in another person’s life. I am so glad it was beneficial to launch the healing journey of tears and your return home to yourself
Your grandmother sounds amazing. Thank you for sharing your vulnerability here and reading. I so appreciate your support.
Taking a break 🥰 working on longer book projects and also fractured my leg and had surgery so I’m in recovery from that and unable to move much. But I’m good spirits! Has helped me prioritise!
At age 51, I scrapped my marriage of 17 years, took it down to almost nothing, and got ready to return to my first love. My first husband and I were separated 23 years after our marriage disintegrated in only 20 months. Now we just celebrated our 21st anniversary. With grace this sick body may make it to 23, which may make it serendipitous indeed.
Wow, Sribbleseed. My heart sings, my body dances in celebration of your reunion. A rare story. I’d love to hear more … 23 would be amazing. Wishing you the best health to enjoy all your days together. Thank you for reading. I appreciate you very much.
Prajna, my name is Linnea Johansson. I follow Stephanie Raffelock too. I chose Scribbleseed as a handle but I do not post (yet). So much story but so little time to tell it.
Such a beautiful and powerful story, Prajna. Your mother was remarkable, mine too—tough and soft, loving. I love how you took her name.
What a powerful story.
Thank you for sharing your mother, her gentle strength and your relationship.
"I want to come back as one of your children." Heartstopping.
The details are so rich and I found much to relate to.
I couldn't help but think of my own mother throughout this story, who, in a way, left and came back. But maybe didn't leave for long enough.
At 30 I was a person who'd gone straight from my parents to boyfriend to young marriage. I'd never been single or alone. I went on a long trip by myself. My husband's idea – he knew I needed to fly solo for a bit. Encouraging me was a big risk for him – I might not have come back, but I did.
I love the detail about your mother comparing cakes. My mom had a sister relationship like that and I'm sure said something similar to me on a car ride home from her house.
Beautiful writing.
Dear Tina, this really touches me. Thank you for sharing part of your story with your mom and flying solo. I had two early proposals but lacked role models that I would wish for. I’m still unmarried but I have three special girls. Glad for that. I look forward to reading more of your stories. Thank you again.
A beautiful tribute. Also, our moms had the same birthday. 🩷
Sarah, wow. Thank you for reading and for your kindness. It's a wonderful time of the year to be born. What year was your mom born? Is that the same?
FUN!
Wow. This is deeply moving... every small detail. I truly have a deep sense of who she was and I feel that I have known her a bit. She has touched my heart through your heart. THIS is magnificent: “I want to come back as one of your children.” The ultimate compliment. The ultimate seeing of your salty and sweet heart. xox
Thank you so much Sil. I miss her and glad you felt touched by this remarkable woman.
Prajna,
What a beautiful portrait of your mom and wonderful details of your childhood, although there were certainly challenges.
I was in a horrid marriage for 15 years (I refused to leave because of the stigma of divorce and I kept wanting to make it work), until I got breast cancer. My husband never helped me nor went to my chemotherapy and radiation treatments with me. I was alone.
After treatment ended, I did some thinking and realized that all I had been doing throughout the marriage was existing, not living. I wanted to live. Although it was so difficult to do, I left -- and never came back. We got a divorce.
And then the best thing happened: I discovered who I really was, and who I was wasn't lost anymore. I made friends and had a fulfilled life, which I still have to this day. I am grateful I left the marriage. It took a lot of courage, but I'm glad my life has unfolded the way it has.
Thank you for sharing!
Of course!
Wow, dear Beth, thank you so much for sharing your powerful story of leaving to claim yourself, who you are, and to live a fulfilling life. I saw your like and thought, oh, it's Beth, I hope she tells me here story and here it is. I am touched and inspired by your courage, and so happy you are living your best life. Thank you, dear sister.
Prajna,
Your words reached me at a time when I, too, am preparing to leave. Unlike your mother’s return, I don’t know if I will come back—or if there is truly anyone to return to. My younger brother, eighteen years apart from me, has built his own life, woven himself into his wife’s family. My roots feel quite rotten by now. There is maybe recognition, but love, not truly. Responsibility was what held me.
Leaving, for me, is not just about stepping away but acknowledging that the place I once called home no longer will exist in the way I knew it. and that is a good thing. Many a trauma happened here.
My people are by now mostly gone. My brother is my closest living relative. There are 4 cousins which whom I have no contact, and you are by now more than a friend to me, than anybody here in my hometown Einbeck.
Your mother’s story reminds me that sometimes, leaving is an act of self-preservation. That even if the return is uncertain, the journey itself can hold meaning.
With gratitude for your words and reflections,
Jay
Hello Jay, Thank you for reading and for your tender response. Your words touch me deeply. I miss my mother dearly as out of that large lot, she is the one I felt closest to. My kid brother Max and I will always have a special bond, yet he is on the other side of the country, and we rarely see each other. I am the only one on the West Coast. It sounds like you are doing some deep inner work to rehome yourself. I am happy and proud to call you a dear friend. I see you. Thank you!
Oh Prajna, thank you for these kind and grounding words. I feel the bond you carry with both your mom and Max—how distance can stretch, but not sever it. Yes, I am slowly rehoming myself, layer by layer. It means the world to be seen in that. And to be called a dear friend by you—soft paws on my heart. I see you too. Always.
Awwwe, this feels so good today, as I feel very tender. Thank you so much—soft paws.
Thank you for this powerful story. Your mom is such a badass! So often the story ends another way, in fact I may not know anyone so brave. I love that you are memorializing her and that you took her name. 🩶
Thank you so much for reading Lyns. Yes she was a tender badass. I love the name O’Hara, a consistent reminder of her. I appreciate so much that you shared this precious woman.
Thank you so much for this beautiful piece. And for asking us all to pause. I have not been very still in my mind of late but finding your writing and this piece stopped me and allowed me to breathe deeply while feeling the words. I am so very grateful you somehow understood your mother, and her leaving and returning,and that the love continued on. The grace you gave is no small thing but it lives on now. So thought provoking and heartfelt. Thank you. ❤️
Hello dear,
Thank you for your very kind words. I am so happy that you had a chance to breathe deeply and feel yourself back home in your body.
Yes, all of this writing has given me such a deep appreciation and compassion for the women who have gone before us. It’s become quite a passion of mine. I think it’s a result of my heart feels much more expanded. Thank you for stopping by and reading. I appreciate you.
What a beautiful tribute to your mother, perfectly encapsulating the steel frame surrounded by softness that defines so many women. How strong she was!
Hi Dina, thank you so much for coming over to read this and to see and celebrate my mother
I miss her
Yes, so many women
Prajna how beautifully moving this story of your mother’s life, and yours, is. What an incredible woman. What she told you when you asked, ‘Why did you leave us?’ It gutted me. And this: ‘In those final weeks, I saw her—and met her—as I never had before.
Not as the woman who couldn’t walk or read, but as the woman who loved fiercely, gave endlessly, and taught me what it means to leave, return, and fight for what matters.’ I felt exactly the same way about my fierce, independent, intelligent devoted mother as dementia took so much from her but not the love—never the love. 💕
Amy, thank you for reading and thank you so much for sharing about your mother. It’s amazing. The most important thing can never go away. I appreciate you.
Dear Prajna, thank you for directing me to this beautiful piece about your amazing mother. What a loving, gentle, formidable force she was. We were so lucky to have such powerful mothers who overcame so much to mother us fiercely without losing themselves. I wish I had known your mom. XO
Karina, Your kindness warms my heart. Yes, my mom was a gentle force. I miss her dearly, wish you knew her, and appreciate all of our mothers. Thank you so much for stopping by to read and celebrate mothers.
Beautiful Prajna, motherhood...such wonderful memories. I remember the pineapple upside down cake too.!
Hi Mary,
Thank you so much for reading and for this lovely comment. Yes sometimes life can feel like an upside down pineapple cake. I guess our task is to find the sweetness in it.
😘
I just read your post. I am in tears. There is so much there. Your mom was an incredible woman and she modeled something so important to you and your daughters. I can see where you get your incredible strength. I am also in tears because March 19 is also my gran's birthday. The matriarch of our family. It would have been her 96th birthday this past week. She is one of my Angels and I have never known anyone to possess so much love than she did - even though she also had a tough and somewhat controlling husband (who became a lot softer and more loving later in life). These women endured so much and yet gave unconditionally. Your post also speaks to what I am going through right now. Having left my home, and my relationship, in the hopes of reclaiming myself. Today has been a hard and sad day, and reality is setting in. I haven't been able to mourn, but right now the tears are streaming, and I am feeling everything. Thank you so much for sharing this beautiful story xx
Wow Andy, I love this about reading and writing, we never know how it’s going to land in another person’s life. I am so glad it was beneficial to launch the healing journey of tears and your return home to yourself
Your grandmother sounds amazing. Thank you for sharing your vulnerability here and reading. I so appreciate your support.
🌹
Beautiful xx
Hi Michelle, thank you so much for reading. I haven’t seen you around very much. I hope you’re doing fantastic. How are you?
Taking a break 🥰 working on longer book projects and also fractured my leg and had surgery so I’m in recovery from that and unable to move much. But I’m good spirits! Has helped me prioritise!
Thank you for this lovely story!
I am so glad that you enjoyed this, Abby! Thank you so much for reading 🌹