When a Song Brings Back a Lifetime

Today I went for a walk. Like I usually do, I had my headphones in and was listening to my “heavy rotation” of love songs.

And then it came on.

Endless Love by Lionel Richie.

That song stopped me in my tracks.

It wasn’t the wedding song I shared with John. It was the wedding song from my first marriage. We’ll call him Tiny — because that’s what we call him.

When I really listened to the lyrics today, I realized something. At 21 years old, I truly believed that song described the kind of love we would have. It talks about your first and only love… the kind that lasts forever.

What the song doesn’t mention is reality.

It doesn’t talk about the plans that will never happen.
It doesn’t talk about the life that never unfolds the way you imagined.

There is a feeling of unfairness in that.

Tiny lost the right to be a husband and a father. He didn’t get to dance with his daughter at her wedding. He didn’t get to walk her down the aisle.

And every single day, I thank God that John stepped up and stepped in. John is their dad. He earned the right to walk her down that aisle. He deserved that dance at her wedding.

Tiny did not.

But hearing that song today made me wonder something.

Where do we put all the disappointment and the letdowns?

The song brought back so many broken promises. Not just promises made to me, but promises made to my children.

This is one of the quiet parts of divorce that people don’t talk about. Dreams go unrealized, and the future looks different than you ever imagined.

Sometimes I wonder why we mourn the marriage that didn’t work.
Why we travel back in time and sift through the “what ifs.”

What do we do with the pain?
The loss?
The dreams that never happened?

Then I had to laugh at myself.

“Okay, back to reality, Bonny.”

I am a strong believer in God. He has carried me through the hardest parts of my life. He has taught me patience. He has taught me that life does, indeed, go on.

I often say that I wish Tiny a nice life far away from me and the kids. But the truth is, the damage was done. It affected four lives.

And I have come to acceptance.

I’ve come to understand that what I thought I had back then was, in many ways, a fantasy. No, we won’t be retiring together. No, we won’t be sitting on some beach someday when our tushies are sagging.

Instead, I’ll have my saggy tushy on a beach with someone else.

Someone braver.
Someone stronger.
Someone who loves us exactly the way we are.

So today I say goodbye to 1982 — the year we met.
Goodbye to 1990 — the year we got married.

I leave it where it belongs: in the past.

I put down the weight of it all and look forward to the future.

Stephanie and Matthew have achieved the lives they wanted. And the best part?

So have I.

In spite of everything.

Looking back now, I can see God’s hand in places I didn’t understand at the time. What once felt like loss slowly became a different kind of blessing. Not the life I planned—but the life that was meant for me.

“Some dreams end so better ones can begin.”

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

You are Enough, Even If You Don't Belive It Yet

  I remarried about ten years ago. After two horrid relationships, I finally stopped pointing the finger outward and asked myself a harder question: Was there something about the men I was choosing… and trying to save? So I did something completely different. I chose someone completely different. Years before that, I had gone to a psychic. She told me the person I was with at the time was not my soulmate. She said I would meet someone new, that the relationship would move quickly, and to “just go with it.” When I met John, I knew. Our conversations flowed effortlessly. We would spend hours texting and talking every single day. When my feelings started deepening, I asked him where he saw this going. At that point, we hadn’t even met in person yet. He told me he just wanted to be “texting buddies.” I said that was fine. I could always use another friend. But by December of 2014, we decided to finally meet. Our first date lasted eight hours. I knew he was the one. He is k...
Read more

“Sean: The Little Boy Who Taught Us How to Live, Love, and Be Brave”

Oh, so many years ago, a little boy and his best friend walked into my kindergarten classroom. They were inseparable—two tiny souls navigating the world side by side. At the time, I had no idea how deeply those two boys, especially one named Sean, would change my life forever. Sean looked like every other child in my classroom—floppy hair, a contagious laugh, and a smile that could light up even the hardest days. But behind that smile was a warrior. Sean was fighting cancer… for the second time. He had already beaten it once. This was his rematch. I reached out to his mom, Kim, wanting to understand how best to support him. And when I met her, I immediately saw where Sean got his light. Kim carried strength in a way that didn’t shout—it quietly radiated. She wasn’t defeated or fearful. She believed in her son with every ounce of her being. I shared with her that my own son was battling a life-threatening illness. There was an unspoken understanding between us—the delicate balance of wa...
Read more

Beyond the Epstein FIles : Believing the Survivors

  Speaking the Truth, Even When It’s Uncomfortable I know I’m going a bit off topic this morning. But I do my best writing when I’m emotionally attached to what I’m sharing. This blog has always been a kind of public journal for me. My hope is simple: to let people know they are not alone. I speak my truth—whether it’s right or wrong—because it’s my truth. So let’s talk about the elephant in the room: the Epstein files. Whenever I see an email with names blacked out, or hear people whisper about “the list,” I feel a pit in my stomach. It’s a heavy wave of sadness. It’s 2026, and I watch other countries confront horrific acts head-on—holding people accountable, issuing apologies, acknowledging survivors. And yet here, that accountability feels painfully absent. I refuse to call these women victims . They are survivors . A survivor is someone who endures the storm and comes out the other side. A victim is a label that traps people in a moment. These women are far more than that....
Read more