I was hesitant to do this — but I am releasing a portion of my 1st novel to my blog.  It has taken quite a long time to actually sit down, and let the words flow but I did it.  Now, comes the fork in the road.  I want others to read it, become inspired and motivated… I want to know what others think. Feel free to comment and if everyone wants more — I will release more.. the novel is based on actual events that I have experienced —

Here it goes —-


By: Bethany DyAnne Ackerson

Listen to your loves’ heartbeat.  — Put your ear on their chest and listen to the strong and steady ba boom of the heart. Feel the sound of their heart.  For when your love is lost that half is ripped away from you. This will be the one sound that you will miss besides the sound of their voice and their laugh.

 Dedicated to:

My love of the of the past

to my daughter’s Catherine and Marissa

and to my most inspiring, annoying (at times), talented,

Ryan D. Murphy

 PART 1:


Feeling the warm grass under my feet as my daughter’s and I walked to our community mailbox and hearing the words,

“You the best mommy in the whole world” cross my four year old daughter’s lips for I was allowing her to pull her pink plastic wagon to the mail box today delighted me.  My daughters are probably one of the few only reasons why I am still alive today.  All those shrinks out there probably could still pick that statement apart.  There are multiple moments during the day where I reflect at where I am now emotionally/finically/mentally then where I was two years ago.  Bitterness had become a new emotion that I have felt, the “screw you” statement had become a daily, now, and multiple timed daily thought. “Screw you” had joined and taken over my once naïve happy full of life persona, being able to look and see the good in everyone one, was no longer there.  The give a damn has been lowered since realizing that the world was and is indeed full of out for themselves and instant gratification individuals.

Or is it?

In a month it will mark two years since my world was ripped, shredded, the broken pieces of my life shattered all around me, like a vase thrown to the ground.  Shards of once what I thought were a normal life could not be put back together again.  If I even thought I trying to put that life back together, like picking up a broken piece of glass, knew I would but cut.

July 27, 2011

 July 27, 2011 began normally or what was the norm “once upon a time”.  I woke up around 4 in the morning to make my husband and I our pot of coffee.  As the scent of warm caffeine filled the kitchen I packed my husband (what a wonderful man) his lunch for work.  After kissing Travis goodbye, I got ready for the girls to wake up whom at that time where two and three who were still slightly slumbering.  During the day, I did my meager household duties, laundry…cleaning…but today was different.  Today was Wednesday, and for me it was special, for it marked a week off from school, for the ten week term ended yesterday and once again I had made the President’s list.  So, today, I was going to make it even more special not just for me, but for our sweet girls who tolerated me and for Travis who stood by me and encouraged me to succeed.  The girls “helped” me do the weeding in our little vegetable and fruit garden. I did our wash, steamed cleaned of all the carpets and made Travis his favorite meal.

Through the day, I baked and I baked my ass off.  Sugar cookies, spiced oatmeal raisin cookies, peanut butter cookies and pork roast with fresh veggies from the garden to compliment this exceptional meal.  The day was hectic and busy, so in the afternoon hearing the voice from Travis on his break was a god send.  We swapped the details of  our day, said our love you’s and hung up.

While the girls were down for their naps, for back then I was lucky to have an hour a day where they napped.  Going outside to weed the gardens, pick produce that was ripe, I caught up with my neighbors.  Evening came, the call from the hubby said he was going to be late and that he taken on the extra hours.

Fuck, that means he isn’t going to be home till 11, and that I am going to have to put the girls to bed myself, one more night where they don’t get hugs/kisses from their father, and now dinner will have to be microwaved.  9:00 rolled around, (I still have that voicemail).  It pissed me off to have to microwave such an awesome meal.

I missed it.  Travis had called but I was like “whatever”.

10:30. I should be hearing from him by now I thought and as if my luck… there we go… there’s the phone ring.  Travis proceeded to say work was done and that he was on his way home. I was sitting in the overstuffed burgundy recliner in the corner of the living room watching cartoons popping plumb red raspberries and small acai dark chocolates  that, somewhat and somewhat awkward phone call would be my last.

“I am on my way home now” Travis said.

“You sound tired, you okay” I ask concerned, for I was.

“Yeah, just a long day at work” Travis said tiredly.

“You hungry”, I ask.  I was concerned, but I also was working out the timeframe of when to exactly pop his plate of food in the microwave.

“Not really”, was Travis’s response.

What the hell I think to myself.  I spend majority of my day cooking/baking for him.  I can’t please this son of a bitch can I.

“Okay see you in about twenty”. Travis uttered to me. In reply I told him that I loved him.

“Love you”

“Love you too sweetie” Travis uttered to me.

10:45 rolls around I felt eager to see Travis.  I race to the front entrance to turn on the porch lights, stopping for just a moment to check out the baby cuttings from the herbs to see if any roots had sprouted. With quiet urgency I go throughout the house to turn on the dining room lights, kitchen lights as well as the back porch lights, for I had turned them off previously to put girls down.

10:50 damn I look like a sight as I caught my refection in the large square mirror that hung in our dining room on the side wall. My hair still not brushed from a shower forty-five minutes previously.  Although, those hot pink tips still looked pretty freaking amazing.  What you do when your twenty-five and still trying new things.

11:00 I called Travis to see where he was just to see if he was ok or something came up.  Since he was a volunteer fireman at Cherry Hall he sometimes he would take an EMT call if he was close by. So, I texted to see if that was the case. While waiting for a reply I brushed my hair, still in love with my tips I slip into some pj bottoms, and the scanner goes off.

Fuck those things are loud, holy hell. The tones from the scanner go off again, what the fuck, the muffled voices on the other end travel through the bedroom and the echo of the voices I could hear coming from the bathroom.  Travis would know what they were saying, not me, so I turn the scanner down.

Where the hell is he, I slather some lotion on, throw a sweatshirt on and check FB on my phone.  Perhaps, Travis on his way home get sidetracked, maybe there is something on FB of a recent call.

I mean c’mon, I sent him text messages, called him like twelve times to see where he was, there still was no answer.  Searching on FB, I see he had be-friended what looks like a scank. Who the fuck is she?  Posing like that with no shirt on, seriously, now granted, nice firm boobs, a tan, but seriously Travis?

Then it dawns on me, our recent fight two weeks ago. Yah the divorce fight, where I throw my engagement ring and wedding bands at him, it didn’t even really phase him. He just sat there in the lawn chair with a beer in his hand.  I was fuming as I picked up the girls and went in the house. I didn’t even see where the rings had landed in our lawn.

He had been spending so much time there lately, at the firehouse.  I know how the weekend panned out.  They had been the same for the past three years. Friday night, screw it, firehouse for him, me at the house with the girls. Saturday wake up, breakfast, get ready for the only outing we had in the week, yeah go to fucken Walmart for groceries and anything else the house needed.  Saturday afternoon and evening he would be down there at the firehouse and Sunday afternoon as well.  He had seemed distant lately, but I thought everything was going to be ok.

We had talked about this. After Travis had given be some time to cool down, we went for a family drive.  He saw where my rings had landed and we had talked about how he was going to spend more time with the children he helped bring into the world and find more time with me his wife, who had stood next to him during all his ups and downs.  His wife who helped him loose close to 75 pound in a year, his wife who tolerated quite a bit of bull shit from him.

And now, seeing this fucken broad.  Oh hell no. I proceeded to send him a text message of the wife’s fucken intuition and brain.  The emotion of the moment swallowed me in fist of…rage. I felt like packing his shit and throwing it out of the freakin second story window.

11:30 still nothing.  Fine I thought, be like that.  I walked angrily throw each room, turning off all the lights, and locking all the doors, mumbling to myself like a scorned wife.  Screw you; you can do everything in the dark.

12:00. With Family guy playing on the TV, I thought I heard a pounding.  Eh, it was nothing, so I go back to the meaningless show, there it is again. What the hell is it?  I turn the TV off, and very distinctly I hear the pounding again, and this time followed by the doorbell.

Oh God damn it!  I am abou to be robbed or something.  I walk over to the window in our second story bedroom window which faced out to the main road. I see flashing red and blue lights of two police officer cars.  Oh my flippen god, did he seriously call the cops on my text message. I am so gonna get him with alimony and child support, that broad ain’t gonna get a dime I thought with vengeance and determination.

I still look like a sight, turquoise pj bottoms  on with a sweatshirt from Darien lake, the only place besides Walmart that Travis had taken us too (well besides fireworks at Wolcott beach, and the nursing home where every Sunday morning was spent to see his mom.  Women put herself in that place to avoid being taken care of by her younger manipulative and crude son).

I was heated as I opened up the front door.  At the front door were two sheriffs and two random guys who introduced himself as the chief of Cherry Hall and the assistant chief of cherry Hall.  I look to the cops and angrily but scared voice I say,

“Are you here because of what I texted Travis” I bitterly asked.

“No ma’am, what text message?” the officer says with curiosity.

“The text message I sent,” (like they were supposed to know what I meant)” He is not home… he must..”  I was cut off by one of the officers…

“Ma’am there has been an accident” the officer pronounced.

How I Freed Myself

Just a few years ago (that would be around four years ago) what I have accomplished this past week would never have happened.  How dare I go against the flow? How dare I step out of the tracks that were set before me? Me, get out of my comfort zone (yeah, whatever) no sir, I like my small and comfortable bubble. I feel safe in my bubble. Oh.. how these past few years have changed.  For “goodness sake” this man (he looks completely innocent… doesn’t he?) decided to in 2013

(just sitting and relaxing on the front porch)
(just sitting and relaxing on the front porch)

that my “safe bubble” had to be popped.  We had a weekend free from our lovely daughters. 239

photo 2

As we were driving too I do not know where, Ryan is making phone calls, and speaking of prices of “something”.  Words such as “a couple” and a “single drop” would come out.  Here I was, thinking how sweet he was for making dinner reservations.  I was so happy with him, but since we were on the thruway, where in God’s Green Planet are we going?  After all the phone calls, he looks over at me, with this “look”, that look of “I got something planned”.

He say’s “How would you like to do something reckless?” What I think, something reckless to me was buying a new plant that would die in about a week from me over tending to it.  He goes, “we are going ski diving and we are about 20 minutes away, how does that sound”? “WTH, my feet belong on planet earth” was my reply.  Within seconds, I am formatting everything that could possibly go wrong and the hospital bills that could accrue.

As we talked, yes, ski diving was on my bucket list, but it was something that he did say that was true.  A lot of people do have things on their bucket list, but actually pursuing them is something totally different. So I complied, I sat through the movie (which I swear was from the 80’s)…hesitantly participated in the “how” to get the gear on and off.  I was trembling, my palms sweaty, I don’t think my words were actually understandable as I get my gear on, boarded a plan that I swear was from the 70’s sat in the corner like a disobedient child with dice hanging in the corner.

I went throw the motions of backing up and then I felt the cold air hit me like a ton of bricks.  Holy hell, this is happening and there is no way out of it.  I wanted to be put back on the ground where it was safe.  Then again, while I am  up here, I might as well take the jump.  So, I rocked and flipped out of the plane.

It was a shock to my system on all levels, with my eyes closed tightly I let out of a blood curdily scream.  When the parachute was finally open (which felt like a life time, and I was concerned that we got the “bad one”) I opened my eyes then it happened, a switch was clicked on.  I dove out of a plane into the ski, the parachute opened, and I did it! The  view was spectacular, no it was breathtaking.  I felt so liberated. I felt free. I accomplished something that so many talk about, but so few actually follow through and do.  As we floated to the ground, I did stumble for my knees were shaking. and I was so overwhelmed with what I had just seen and done.

IMG_20130727_151838 I took a picture of Ryan floating to the ground (he decided to not take a picture of me, for they had a bet going on if I was actually going to make it to the ground without falling). (lovely boyfriend at the time).

A year later in the summer of 2014, I did something else that was another big stepping stone for me in actually doing something on my bucket list at that was chopping of 12 inches of my hair

Ryan playing with my hair – he thinks he is funny (actually it was)…
Summer of 2014

I had always wanted to donate my hair to locks of love, it took me a couple of weeks, but I finally did it. I did it! To me this was another thing that liberated me and freed me.  Something that pushed me out of my bubble and motivated me in succeeding. The reason why I have shared two life events with you, is that these two events amongst others have enlightened me in that, I do not have to  always stay on the safe road.  That If I want it, I must get out of my bubble, I must extend my comfort zones.  These accomplishments (small to some, but huge in my personal opinion ) showed me that I am strong enough to pursue what I want to do, and to take the naysayers with a grain of salt.

Ryan has been my motivator, the one to push me out of comfort zone, and this I say to you, get out of your comfort zone every now and then, for who knows what you can accomplish!!!


I have the answer in my head — I just have not found it yet

As I am starting this expedition of following an appetite of mine, I see many doors that are opening.  Which door do I cross the threshold? How did I arrive at this conclusion to actually actively pursue something that I love to do?  Well, let me just say, that I have grown weary in trying to follow paths in a heavily constructed forests of “what’s best for you”, I have grown tired of reading articles that “should, should not” do.  So, I decided to make my own path, hack down the intrusive objects in my way, for as one of my favorite quotes go “I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul”  by William Ernest Henley. How to do persuade others that what I want to do is not just a hobby, but something that I take seriously? But, who says that you can not enjoy your work, or take your hobby into something more productive and lucrative? As the days go by, and I narrow down to what I want to write about and develop a following. I look forward to what my audience wants and desires to read about. I am eager to research the topics that an audience wants to know more about, and to enhance my knowledge about different subjects, I am even looking forward to the critics that will come, for those too play a part in a success tale.   So I will stock up on the eye drops, and while the final steps are being taken in the developing of my blog and making sure everything is linked properly I will continue in these up dates.  So cheers to all, have an awesome day, and do not be afraid to start commenting.

Pink Wagon

Yesterday I had wrote about the upcoming chaos that our little family was going to encounter (similar to seeing the weather radar and the weather that is out west will soon be upon us, and prepping for this broken record of “snow”).  Even thinking of seeing my youngest march down the aisle when her name is called, tugged on my heart.  In the midst of this I remember a moment when she was four and we were all playing outside and feeling the warm grass under my feet and hearing “You the best mommy in the whole world”  had crossed my four year old daughter’s lips for I was allowing her to pull her pink plastic wagon to the mail box that day. Now, I am the best mommy at times. (well, I am a mommy first, and there are times that well, you so can not do that, such as buying another cat then its the “your the worst mommy ever”)  That pink wagon.  Oh my god, that pink wagon has stood the test of time. That pink wagon has been stumped on, somehow has been used as a foot stool, a sled (yes, a sled) in the middle of summer.  For some ungodly reason, both girls got it in their head that one could sit in it while the other pushed the other down a hill in the backyard.  How they did not get more then a scratch still baffle my mind. That pink wagon has been used as a shopping cart, a storage container for left over snacks, a fairy princess carriage and more.  More baffling is, the things they pull while the back is turned for a second.  That pink wagon, has been the source of many healthy disagreements from “we can pull the wagon, and walk the dog”, to “we can use it to collect clay” (now, I know this one would end up my half bent over trying to pull a pink wagon full of clay walking down the road). This pink wagon is beat up, the soft pastel blue wheels are falling off, but the girls still see use out of.  Watching them place (very gingerly and carefully) their stuffed animals in it.  After (imagining) that the stuffed animals are buckled up, they will start to walk very carefully and avoid any harm take off like there was some monster behind them. I (One of the best $35 spent !).

Buckle Up

Life is about to get a little bit more chaotic– as if it hasn’t been a whirlwind of decisions already. Planning a wedding and trying to keep everyone satisfied was next to impossible, so we will do what makes us happy (for is that not part of a wedding, where the groom and bride feel “happy”).  So, if the groom wants me to walk down the aisle to “welcome to the jungle” (which he does), and not the traditional bridal march, then it is on.  It is a touch hard to think that indeed, spring is right around the corner (with the feet on top of feet of snow that is out in the yard).  But, spring is coming which means that the wedding will be here, then a move to a new home the following week, and then a graduation of my youngest from kindergarten.  So I say, buckle up, (there is only so much prepping that I can do), enjoy the ride, actually have fun at our wedding, and wipe the tears from my face when I see my baby walk down the aisle to receive her diploma of completion of kindergarten (okay, I do agree to an extent, a diploma of completing kindergarten can be seen as too much).