Showing posts with label divorce. Show all posts
Showing posts with label divorce. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 16, 2015
no wild hogs for me, thanks
Yesterday afternoon, I was taking a break from the insane summer heat, watching movies on the small screen. I don't even recall what the preceding movie was, but I had enjoyed it.
Then, "Wild Hogs" came on.
I know what you're thinking. "What a great buddy movie! John Travolta! William H. Macy! Tim Allen! Martin Lawrence! Ray Liotta! Marisa Tomei! Motorcycle adventure!"
True, all true.
When it came to the silver screen in late February of 2007, I had been eagerly anticipating it.
So, when Jeff had to go into the hospital for another two stents in his heart, I needed some distraction. My friend Deborah had been right there to help me through it, as had been Jeff's coworker, Debbie. I had known her for a couple of years, ever since she became Jeff's colleague. He and I had even been to a Christmas party at the house of her and her husband, just two months earlier.
To thank the two women for their hugs and help, I had invited both of them for a "girls' afternoon out". They had enthusiastically agreed and off we went!
The theatre was packed, so we weren't able to sit in the same row. We were, however, able to sit vertically aligned, in three rows, such that we could still share popcorn and camaraderie. And laughs! What a great time we all had!
How vivid that memory still is, 7 1/2 years later.
I had no idea that Debbie had been screwing my husband for two months by that time.
That knowledge did not come for another four months.
And now, every time that particular movie comes on, or I hear about it, that memory of the three of us women in the cinema springs to mind.
And the betrayal by her and my husband.
Maybe, one day, I'll be able to enjoy the movie without the memory.
Here's hoping.
Perhaps if I were to watch it in someone's arms, making a new memory, that would do the trick.
Maybe, one day.
Sunday, June 7, 2015
goodbye to Hiram
Ever since the divorce was finally completed on March 31, I knew things were going to change for my BFF.
The girl-child was soon to graduate high school and head to college.
The house's steep mortgage would soon be off her back onto her ex.
Her ex would pay off the credit card debt and remove that burden.
Well, that last one hasn't happened yet.
The divorce lawyer was totally incompetent and didn't add that bit to the final draft of the paperwork. It had been in the previous drafts... just not that final one.
Ernest Herbert Delong, the ex, is still sticking it to his two mistresses, literally, and to my BFF, figuratively. (He has been impotent with her for several years.)
He has continued to shirk his responsibilities. He has not paid the mortgage. He has not paid the insurance on his motorcycle. He has not even paid child support for his daughter. That's a violation of court order and he can find himself in jail for that lapse of judgement on his part.
I hope he will.
Chances are he will not. Chances are that he is in Dubai, shacked up again with the South African adultress. He could go to jail over there for that lapse in judgement, as could she. The folks in Abu Dhabi don't put up with adultery at all.
I hope he will be punished, and that she will be, too.
But who knows how to make that happen?
Tonight, I will spend what will probably be my last night in the house in Hiram. It's for sale and has already been shown multiple times. In fact, an offer has recently been made.
I hope it will sell soon.
But I will miss the loving home Sam decorated for herself and her kids.
They have repainted the rooms downstairs and several of the upstairs rooms, removing the messages on the walls.
"If walls could speak..."
These did.
Friday, January 30, 2015
making it official
My BFF is finally getting divorced.
It's been a long time coming.
Yesterday evening, she began the conversation by text.
her: Just said goodbye to Ernie for the last time. Divorce should be final on the 16th.
me: Was he in town?
her: Yup, flying out of Atlanta to Dubai. He wanted to have dinner with me and the kids.
me: Wow. I had thought he was here last month to sign the papers. Right?
her: He had been in Hinesville since New Years.
me: Ok. I see.
her: Yup. Now he's going back there to work (he better) and be with Elise.
me: How are you doing? Want to talk?
her: He did go out to Texas to see if that would work out (it didn't).
me: That is funny.
her: Are you busy?
me: Nope. Hard as that may be to believe.
And we talked, voice to voice, for almost an hour.
Ernie had resisted signing the papers this past summer, when he was stateside. He was so sure she would remain part of his harem that he was going to wait her out.
Now, his harem has dwindled from a wife and two mistresses to only one woman: his South African mistress with whom he is living in the UAR.
The folks over there think he and Elise are already married, because that is the lie he has perpetrated to them.
Over there, they have strict rules about married men having affairs and living with mistresses. He would lose his job, at best, and she would have been deported on the spot.
As it turns out, he's already lost his job.
He smart-mouthed to a general, about who knows what.
Craziness.
Why did he sign the divorce papers?
My BFF told him she had found someone new.
His grown son told his dad that he needed to let Sam go.
His nearly grown daughter told her dad the same thing.
Then he went out to Texas to visit his longtime mistress, Jill, the one he's had since 2009... and closed that chapter in his life.
She had gained seventy-five pounds in the past three years.
That's her assessment, not his.
Once he saw her there in the doorway, he was done.
Pretty shallow fellow.
So, sign the divorce papers he did.
Then to visit his aging dad for a couple of weeks.
He's told my BFF that he wants to come back to the States, live in the house in Hiram with his mistress and his dad.
Well, that will depend on whether her Apartheid-supporting self can gain admittance into the USA.
And whether she even wants to move here and share space with his dad.
Meanwhile, I'll be sending love and support to my BFF.
Please hurry, February 16th.
Her peace of mind is overdue.
Friday, March 28, 2014
what a long strange trip it's been
I was looking through my list of contacts on LinkedIn and realized: most of these people have only known me since the divorce.
I wanted to share the news about the award in broadcasting that my ex had received. As I scrolled down the list of names, what struck me most was the fact that these people had never met him. They knew nothing of the fifteen years he and I were married, the many happy times he and I had together.
That made me a little sad.
So, I think maybe I'll go to bed now.
Sunday, July 8, 2012
breathe, just breathe
One of the best things about vacations is this: you breathe again.
I know, it sounds absurd, right? You breathe all the time, without even thinking about, with the pace of your breaths linked to your gender and activity level and various other things.
But on a true vacation, one that has a little staying power to it or a relaxing vibe, you wake up one morning and realize: you're breathing.
Very nice feeling.
Um... you've been somewhere? I missed it??
No, I've been here, but the vacation came to me. So to speak.
Okay, the bait is out there, i'll bite. Whatever are you talking about?
Okay, remember i was talking about five-year anniversaries of bad things?
(Silent nod and slow exhale.)
Well, yesterday was such a day. I had actually gotten the date one day off earlier, but the seventh of July of 2007 was the day of betrayal and the last day of my ex in the house. As you know, i had been planning a pity party, to bitch and moan and be generally unsociable. Oh, but with some poor sod to serve as designated driver. Or some such. Pity party, mega scale. But i didn't get to do that.
And at first i was pretty aggravated about it.
But it all worked out for the best.
You see, my bff came down for the weekend and stayed with me. As did her husband. And her lovely daughter, my punk rock goth girl.
Oh, how wonderful! She always perks you up, doesn't she?
Yes, she does. She certainly does. On this trip, she had come with some dread of her own: her 'rents wanted to look at houses, as they will be moving in here in a bout a year. Meaning, of course, that she would be moving here in about a year. And going to a new high school. And all that jazz.
Well, you know, you go where the job is, right? Her dad has a new job and it's here, so the family has to be move here, too.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. You weren't uprooted in your teen years, so you really don't know. But i digress.
Your fault.
Again?
You bet! So, let me set the scene: on Friday, i wake up and am feeling pissy because i have company coming to my pity party. I eventually take some of that hostility out on the yard, getting most of the front lawn cut before my battery-powered mower runs out of juice. (I think the mohawk strip perpendicular to my sliver of moon looks cool, so i may start doing that intentionally.) Some of my new girlfriends have invited me to an evening meet-up down by the river, so i go, all the while knowing my bff and family are on their way to town. Remember, i was feeling pissy.
So you've said.
Okay. (Deep breath.) Well, my new girlfriends don't know any in-depth on me. Which means they don't know i have a pity party planned. And you know what happened? The pity party got circumvented right out of existence, at least for that evening. I had a margarita and shared a bucket of boiled shrimp and danced and sang and talked. Then i shared s'mores and danced and sang and talked. That evening, i allowed myself to take a little vacation from the demons in my head. And the reason i could is simple: no one there knew of them, so i didn't have to acknowledge those serpents, either.
By the time my company arrived, the hour was late, i beat them home, and life was doing well. Not great, but manageable.
The next morning, off we go to breakfast, to an old haunt i once visited often. This time, i had something completely different for breakfast and that was good. All seems to be going okay. Then we leave and the girl is glum. Why? The 'rents are driving around and around, looking at houses for rent, houses for sale, houses for the big move here. Here, where the girl will be leaving all her friends.
So i suggest we drive by the arts high school, the high school she'll most likely attend. And we do. And as we drive along the canopied road, with the old brick houses and white-columned porches, she brightens some. As do i.
Good. That's good! The end of the pity party... right?
Not quite. Remember, i had been "looking forward" to my event for a couple of weeks, if "looking forward" can be used here. Actually, i had been in deep dread of it, but held it in the same regard as a mammogram or pap smear: a necessary bit of messiness to be dealt with and done for the greater good. You know? Some warped rite of passage from where i was five years ago to the time now, on my way to the future.
So, we finish Saturday, the day of the damned, doing sunshine events. Down to the river for First Saturday, eyeballing the wares for sale. Ducking into a local joint for drinks (another margarita) and brief shade. Down to the beach for wave-crashing and shell hunting. Dinner at the place where the "elite eat in their bare feet." And the day was done for my guests, but I did a quick change and was out the door for a margarita and karaoke.
"Ain't No Sunshine"
"Just My Imagination"
"I Dig Rock and Roll Music"
Those don't sound like downbeat songs. I would have expected stuff like "Wake Up Call" and "Something In The Air Tonight" and "Before He Cheats." "Every Breath You Take." That type of song, all songs you've done before.
You know, I had, earlier in the week, planned to sing those very songs. But I decided on - the Wednesday? the Thursday? - to do more upbeat songs instead, try to jumpstart my glass-half-full way of thinking. And it really did help. So did talking to Elvis, one of the regulars there. And by the time i returned home, life was better, but not yet normal.
I wakened at five to the realization that i was going to be out of toilet paper and had four people in my house. Off to get it, then back, and back to bed for an hour or two. I sent my bff and her family off to the morning beach and stayed home to mope, getting it out of my system enough to have lunch with them and my first niece at a barbeque joint.
Then my niece went back home and they went to visit his dad. I went to enjoy a quiet time at the stadium with some regulars and my boys of summer. That was relaxing, being outside but in the shade, feeling the breeze kicked up by the huge propellers overhead, drinking in the sounds of summer.
No need to go home afterward, either. A ghost tour had been arranged to entertain and inform the three from northwest of Atlanta. I headed downtown to catch a missed wave for talk and dinner. And there i was, kvetching about five year marks of odious occasions and ill-timed visitors and whatever else that came out of my mouth. And he said to me, you would have rather had the pity party?
Seriously? Those exact words?
No, i paraphrased, but that was the essence of what he said. And i realized how very selfish i had been, to have thought that rolling around in mope would be preferable to spending that time in the company of those who know and love me. And how those particular people knew best how to handle my insanity, when to stay close, when to back off... but not too far. Because the bff not only knows where the bodies are buried, but helped me put them there.
Thanks, gfriend.
I know, it sounds absurd, right? You breathe all the time, without even thinking about, with the pace of your breaths linked to your gender and activity level and various other things.
But on a true vacation, one that has a little staying power to it or a relaxing vibe, you wake up one morning and realize: you're breathing.
Very nice feeling.
Um... you've been somewhere? I missed it??
No, I've been here, but the vacation came to me. So to speak.
Okay, the bait is out there, i'll bite. Whatever are you talking about?
Okay, remember i was talking about five-year anniversaries of bad things?
(Silent nod and slow exhale.)
Well, yesterday was such a day. I had actually gotten the date one day off earlier, but the seventh of July of 2007 was the day of betrayal and the last day of my ex in the house. As you know, i had been planning a pity party, to bitch and moan and be generally unsociable. Oh, but with some poor sod to serve as designated driver. Or some such. Pity party, mega scale. But i didn't get to do that.
And at first i was pretty aggravated about it.
But it all worked out for the best.
You see, my bff came down for the weekend and stayed with me. As did her husband. And her lovely daughter, my punk rock goth girl.
Oh, how wonderful! She always perks you up, doesn't she?
Yes, she does. She certainly does. On this trip, she had come with some dread of her own: her 'rents wanted to look at houses, as they will be moving in here in a bout a year. Meaning, of course, that she would be moving here in about a year. And going to a new high school. And all that jazz.
Well, you know, you go where the job is, right? Her dad has a new job and it's here, so the family has to be move here, too.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. You weren't uprooted in your teen years, so you really don't know. But i digress.
Your fault.
Again?
You bet! So, let me set the scene: on Friday, i wake up and am feeling pissy because i have company coming to my pity party. I eventually take some of that hostility out on the yard, getting most of the front lawn cut before my battery-powered mower runs out of juice. (I think the mohawk strip perpendicular to my sliver of moon looks cool, so i may start doing that intentionally.) Some of my new girlfriends have invited me to an evening meet-up down by the river, so i go, all the while knowing my bff and family are on their way to town. Remember, i was feeling pissy.
So you've said.
Okay. (Deep breath.) Well, my new girlfriends don't know any in-depth on me. Which means they don't know i have a pity party planned. And you know what happened? The pity party got circumvented right out of existence, at least for that evening. I had a margarita and shared a bucket of boiled shrimp and danced and sang and talked. Then i shared s'mores and danced and sang and talked. That evening, i allowed myself to take a little vacation from the demons in my head. And the reason i could is simple: no one there knew of them, so i didn't have to acknowledge those serpents, either.
By the time my company arrived, the hour was late, i beat them home, and life was doing well. Not great, but manageable.
The next morning, off we go to breakfast, to an old haunt i once visited often. This time, i had something completely different for breakfast and that was good. All seems to be going okay. Then we leave and the girl is glum. Why? The 'rents are driving around and around, looking at houses for rent, houses for sale, houses for the big move here. Here, where the girl will be leaving all her friends.
So i suggest we drive by the arts high school, the high school she'll most likely attend. And we do. And as we drive along the canopied road, with the old brick houses and white-columned porches, she brightens some. As do i.
Good. That's good! The end of the pity party... right?
Not quite. Remember, i had been "looking forward" to my event for a couple of weeks, if "looking forward" can be used here. Actually, i had been in deep dread of it, but held it in the same regard as a mammogram or pap smear: a necessary bit of messiness to be dealt with and done for the greater good. You know? Some warped rite of passage from where i was five years ago to the time now, on my way to the future.
So, we finish Saturday, the day of the damned, doing sunshine events. Down to the river for First Saturday, eyeballing the wares for sale. Ducking into a local joint for drinks (another margarita) and brief shade. Down to the beach for wave-crashing and shell hunting. Dinner at the place where the "elite eat in their bare feet." And the day was done for my guests, but I did a quick change and was out the door for a margarita and karaoke.
"Ain't No Sunshine"
"Just My Imagination"
"I Dig Rock and Roll Music"
Those don't sound like downbeat songs. I would have expected stuff like "Wake Up Call" and "Something In The Air Tonight" and "Before He Cheats." "Every Breath You Take." That type of song, all songs you've done before.
You know, I had, earlier in the week, planned to sing those very songs. But I decided on - the Wednesday? the Thursday? - to do more upbeat songs instead, try to jumpstart my glass-half-full way of thinking. And it really did help. So did talking to Elvis, one of the regulars there. And by the time i returned home, life was better, but not yet normal.
I wakened at five to the realization that i was going to be out of toilet paper and had four people in my house. Off to get it, then back, and back to bed for an hour or two. I sent my bff and her family off to the morning beach and stayed home to mope, getting it out of my system enough to have lunch with them and my first niece at a barbeque joint.
Then my niece went back home and they went to visit his dad. I went to enjoy a quiet time at the stadium with some regulars and my boys of summer. That was relaxing, being outside but in the shade, feeling the breeze kicked up by the huge propellers overhead, drinking in the sounds of summer.
No need to go home afterward, either. A ghost tour had been arranged to entertain and inform the three from northwest of Atlanta. I headed downtown to catch a missed wave for talk and dinner. And there i was, kvetching about five year marks of odious occasions and ill-timed visitors and whatever else that came out of my mouth. And he said to me, you would have rather had the pity party?
Seriously? Those exact words?
No, i paraphrased, but that was the essence of what he said. And i realized how very selfish i had been, to have thought that rolling around in mope would be preferable to spending that time in the company of those who know and love me. And how those particular people knew best how to handle my insanity, when to stay close, when to back off... but not too far. Because the bff not only knows where the bodies are buried, but helped me put them there.
Thanks, gfriend.
Sunday, June 24, 2012
talking to the moon
I would sure love to be able to talk to Mama right now. No, wait. I think i would rather talk to Grandmama right now. She would have the better perspective, i think.
About?
About my relationship to the ex. About my new friendship. About life and my head.
You DO realize that maybe your mom would be the better choice? Having been through a divorce and counseling and all that?
Honestly, that's why i first thought of her. But, as was recently pointed out to me, grandmas have a different perspective. Partly, i'm sure, this is due to the extra time invested on this planet, gathering knowledge and experiences. However, and this may be as important, my Grandmama would also have had the luxury of distance from the stage of life that i am in, having passed through that time four decades earlier. Yeah, come to think of it, that amount of time WOULD provide a nice buffer zone.
Really, g'friend, you should try to get out more. Not from your house, but from your head.
No, this is important. I'm trying to process my thoughts and getting them out of my head and into the air is beneficial for me. Leaving them inside just allows them to fester and foment and other terrible f-words. Of course, talking to someone in person is always best, but that is not presently available,
so i have come to the water's edge to toss my thoughts out to sea,
in hopes they will find a rhythm more appealing to me.
You are one strange bird sometimes, but you can have a nice path to follow on occasion. Lead on.
Okay. Here's my latest point of fluster. This morning, i had a long conversation, by phone, with my SAR best friend -
SAR?? Please, do us all a favor and step AWAY from the acronyms! I know you have a fondness for them, with your "wmla" and "bff" and "lifer" and "ykw" -
Excuse me, but "ykw" was not one of mine. That belonged to my mother.
Whatever.
Indeed.
(Sigh.)
Oh, alright. SAR is search and rescue. It's what he does on a volunteer basis, but he goes when called. It's very important to him. I was even fortunate enough, on one of my visits, to attend the annual awards banquet with him and his dear wife. Pretty cool for all of us, and you know how i enjoy pomp and circumstance events!
Yes, i certainly do. So, you were saying...?
I was having this long talk with him, and, somehow the conversation came around to the ex. Oh, wait, i recall now how it went. He had asked if i had heard anything from the ex and i had responded with "oh, yes, he's the one who picked me up at the school when i returned from Italy." I could have sworn there was almost a gasp on the other end of the line.
I can believe that!
Yeah, i know. I've gotten that same reaction from other family members when i've related this story. These are all people who know and love me and don't want me putting my heart out there in harm's way, and anything to do with the ex is still perceived in that regard. But, as i explained to my SAR bf, the encounter with the ex was not a planned event. He happened to be in town for his elder daughter's high school graduation. His call to me, to catch up with each other's lives and talk, coincided with my arrival at the Atlanta airport from Italy. As this particular day would be the only chance to meet, he agreed to pick me up once the bus had returned my group to town. He'd had a late lunch, so we agreed to a late supper at a nearby, and local, burger joint. You recall how opposed he is to eating at nationwide chain restaurants?
Oh, yes I do. That's why you had only been to them sparingly for so many years, but a bit more often lately.
Okay, so that's the scenario.
Wait a minute, here! I thought you already had arranged a ride home from the school?
Yes, i had, with my first niece, but the bus was going to be arriving later than originally planned, so i thought i would let her off the hook.
Uh huh. If that's what you want to tell yourself -
Listen. That's what i DID tell myself. But, also, i felt the need to talk to the ex about the visit to Rome. He and i had shared that experience almost ten years earlier -
Ding ding ding!!! Alarm bells!!!
Yeah, i hear you. And them. And i know those who know and love me hear them, too, any time i speak of the ex. But i'm much better these days, at least about him. Well, mostly, except when certain little things impinge on my memory lately. I do have July sixth coming up, so we'll see if i flat lose my mind then. Actually, i think i will PLAN to lose my mind and just get that five-year "anniversary" over and done. Yeah, that's a good idea. I need to line up a designated driver for that day. Oh, even better, it's a Friday this year, so that will make it perhaps easier to set that up... i wonder if he is also planning something for that day? Probably not, but who knows?
Train of thought derailed, dear. Back on the tracks, please? That way lies madness and the invisible forest, snakes hissing and writhing and lashing out...
You are correct. I don't know how i managed to stray so far off topic, being as one would think i would have fewer opportunities for such in this setting -
Ahem. (Right eyebrow slightly uplifted.) Shall we? Else you will need to finish this later...
Yes, you're so right, let's move along. So. As i was saying, he and i had been to Rome almost ten years ago, on the Mediterranean cruise of our tenth anniversary. Strange to think we would have had our twentieth in October this year... Damn it.
(cleansing breath out of my lungs, my body, my mind)
Anywho, i had thought it would be nice to talk to him about my trip to Rome, maybe do a little comparison and contrast, so to speak. After all, the guide i had for the tour of the Vatican and Sistine Chapel and St. Peter's Basilica was, surprisingly, the SAME ONE he and i had so many years ago! How cool is THAT? And she (Angela Raffaelli) was very good before and even better now and she had even fondly remembered being associated with Splendour of the Seas. And she was touched and thrilled that i remembered HER. Let me tell you, as a teacher, dealing with as many students as i have over the past nineteen or so years, being remembered fondly is a fabulous gift for the spirit!
And did he remember her?
Not so much, surprisingly to me. He tends to recall different details than i do and that is true in this case. He had sharper memories of the guide we had for the Forum and Colosseum, even recalling her name! Once he spoke the name, i remembered her, too, as she had a very unusual name (Flavia), like i do.
Yes, indeed!
And i have really enjoyed the use of my name this past year! My new friend uses it, as did the folks i traveled with on this latest trip abroad. Really nice!
So, as i was saying, the ex and i talked about Rome, past and present, over burgers with panache, and had good conversation. Then, about an hour and a half after picking me up at the school, he deposited me at home, helping me in with my bag.
We hugged goodbye, he gave me a kiss on the cheek, and he left.
End of visit. And i was glad he left, as i did not want him to stay.
I wanted to sleep.
That's good. Right?
Yes, it was. My body regards his as family now, not as a former lover, and THAT is very good.
Very good, indeed.
I can certainly understand how folks who get divorced or separated will sometimes still find theirselves in bed together, as the body has a tendency to lapse back into familiar actions. One thing leads to another, as The Fixx would put it.
But i have been careful to train my body against such tendencies. And i have trained my mind to regard him as family, meaning my First Law now pertains to him.
And that is good.
But a time-marker is approaching and i will still prepare for it accordingly. I intend this to be the LAST time i mark that day of betrayal. Five years is the time span required to be deemed cancer-free, right?
Not that I'm saying the marriage was a cancer or the ex is a cancer. Like i said, he's family now.
But the emotional turmoil associated with divorce, the extreme stress of spirit invoked by the death of a relationship that was to be forever, the physical reeality of being a part of the sadness of the world - those may surely be likened to a cancer, a malevolent presence that will consume your mind, body, and soul if not eradicated.
Five years of rooting out those brittle shards, thinking they were all gone, then getting a fresh cut by an overlooked, still sharp, edge, jutting up from an unexpected area, from a formerly smooth surface.
Enough.
After all, i prefer to think i am anticipating delight these days, don't you?
And, more and more often this year, I am.
And THAT is wonderful!
Yes, it is! (big smile!)
About?
About my relationship to the ex. About my new friendship. About life and my head.
You DO realize that maybe your mom would be the better choice? Having been through a divorce and counseling and all that?
Honestly, that's why i first thought of her. But, as was recently pointed out to me, grandmas have a different perspective. Partly, i'm sure, this is due to the extra time invested on this planet, gathering knowledge and experiences. However, and this may be as important, my Grandmama would also have had the luxury of distance from the stage of life that i am in, having passed through that time four decades earlier. Yeah, come to think of it, that amount of time WOULD provide a nice buffer zone.
Really, g'friend, you should try to get out more. Not from your house, but from your head.
No, this is important. I'm trying to process my thoughts and getting them out of my head and into the air is beneficial for me. Leaving them inside just allows them to fester and foment and other terrible f-words. Of course, talking to someone in person is always best, but that is not presently available,
so i have come to the water's edge to toss my thoughts out to sea,
in hopes they will find a rhythm more appealing to me.
You are one strange bird sometimes, but you can have a nice path to follow on occasion. Lead on.
Okay. Here's my latest point of fluster. This morning, i had a long conversation, by phone, with my SAR best friend -
SAR?? Please, do us all a favor and step AWAY from the acronyms! I know you have a fondness for them, with your "wmla" and "bff" and "lifer" and "ykw" -
Excuse me, but "ykw" was not one of mine. That belonged to my mother.
Whatever.
Indeed.
(Sigh.)
Oh, alright. SAR is search and rescue. It's what he does on a volunteer basis, but he goes when called. It's very important to him. I was even fortunate enough, on one of my visits, to attend the annual awards banquet with him and his dear wife. Pretty cool for all of us, and you know how i enjoy pomp and circumstance events!
Yes, i certainly do. So, you were saying...?
I was having this long talk with him, and, somehow the conversation came around to the ex. Oh, wait, i recall now how it went. He had asked if i had heard anything from the ex and i had responded with "oh, yes, he's the one who picked me up at the school when i returned from Italy." I could have sworn there was almost a gasp on the other end of the line.
I can believe that!
Yeah, i know. I've gotten that same reaction from other family members when i've related this story. These are all people who know and love me and don't want me putting my heart out there in harm's way, and anything to do with the ex is still perceived in that regard. But, as i explained to my SAR bf, the encounter with the ex was not a planned event. He happened to be in town for his elder daughter's high school graduation. His call to me, to catch up with each other's lives and talk, coincided with my arrival at the Atlanta airport from Italy. As this particular day would be the only chance to meet, he agreed to pick me up once the bus had returned my group to town. He'd had a late lunch, so we agreed to a late supper at a nearby, and local, burger joint. You recall how opposed he is to eating at nationwide chain restaurants?
Oh, yes I do. That's why you had only been to them sparingly for so many years, but a bit more often lately.
Okay, so that's the scenario.
Wait a minute, here! I thought you already had arranged a ride home from the school?
Yes, i had, with my first niece, but the bus was going to be arriving later than originally planned, so i thought i would let her off the hook.
Uh huh. If that's what you want to tell yourself -
Listen. That's what i DID tell myself. But, also, i felt the need to talk to the ex about the visit to Rome. He and i had shared that experience almost ten years earlier -
Ding ding ding!!! Alarm bells!!!
Yeah, i hear you. And them. And i know those who know and love me hear them, too, any time i speak of the ex. But i'm much better these days, at least about him. Well, mostly, except when certain little things impinge on my memory lately. I do have July sixth coming up, so we'll see if i flat lose my mind then. Actually, i think i will PLAN to lose my mind and just get that five-year "anniversary" over and done. Yeah, that's a good idea. I need to line up a designated driver for that day. Oh, even better, it's a Friday this year, so that will make it perhaps easier to set that up... i wonder if he is also planning something for that day? Probably not, but who knows?
Train of thought derailed, dear. Back on the tracks, please? That way lies madness and the invisible forest, snakes hissing and writhing and lashing out...
You are correct. I don't know how i managed to stray so far off topic, being as one would think i would have fewer opportunities for such in this setting -
Ahem. (Right eyebrow slightly uplifted.) Shall we? Else you will need to finish this later...
Yes, you're so right, let's move along. So. As i was saying, he and i had been to Rome almost ten years ago, on the Mediterranean cruise of our tenth anniversary. Strange to think we would have had our twentieth in October this year... Damn it.
(cleansing breath out of my lungs, my body, my mind)
Anywho, i had thought it would be nice to talk to him about my trip to Rome, maybe do a little comparison and contrast, so to speak. After all, the guide i had for the tour of the Vatican and Sistine Chapel and St. Peter's Basilica was, surprisingly, the SAME ONE he and i had so many years ago! How cool is THAT? And she (Angela Raffaelli) was very good before and even better now and she had even fondly remembered being associated with Splendour of the Seas. And she was touched and thrilled that i remembered HER. Let me tell you, as a teacher, dealing with as many students as i have over the past nineteen or so years, being remembered fondly is a fabulous gift for the spirit!
And did he remember her?
Not so much, surprisingly to me. He tends to recall different details than i do and that is true in this case. He had sharper memories of the guide we had for the Forum and Colosseum, even recalling her name! Once he spoke the name, i remembered her, too, as she had a very unusual name (Flavia), like i do.
Yes, indeed!
And i have really enjoyed the use of my name this past year! My new friend uses it, as did the folks i traveled with on this latest trip abroad. Really nice!
So, as i was saying, the ex and i talked about Rome, past and present, over burgers with panache, and had good conversation. Then, about an hour and a half after picking me up at the school, he deposited me at home, helping me in with my bag.
We hugged goodbye, he gave me a kiss on the cheek, and he left.
End of visit. And i was glad he left, as i did not want him to stay.
I wanted to sleep.
That's good. Right?
Yes, it was. My body regards his as family now, not as a former lover, and THAT is very good.
Very good, indeed.
I can certainly understand how folks who get divorced or separated will sometimes still find theirselves in bed together, as the body has a tendency to lapse back into familiar actions. One thing leads to another, as The Fixx would put it.
But i have been careful to train my body against such tendencies. And i have trained my mind to regard him as family, meaning my First Law now pertains to him.
And that is good.
But a time-marker is approaching and i will still prepare for it accordingly. I intend this to be the LAST time i mark that day of betrayal. Five years is the time span required to be deemed cancer-free, right?
Not that I'm saying the marriage was a cancer or the ex is a cancer. Like i said, he's family now.
But the emotional turmoil associated with divorce, the extreme stress of spirit invoked by the death of a relationship that was to be forever, the physical reeality of being a part of the sadness of the world - those may surely be likened to a cancer, a malevolent presence that will consume your mind, body, and soul if not eradicated.
Five years of rooting out those brittle shards, thinking they were all gone, then getting a fresh cut by an overlooked, still sharp, edge, jutting up from an unexpected area, from a formerly smooth surface.
Enough.
After all, i prefer to think i am anticipating delight these days, don't you?
And, more and more often this year, I am.
And THAT is wonderful!
Yes, it is! (big smile!)
Thursday, February 11, 2010
love, love, love, love
Since last week, I've been having my own little film festival. For Christmas, my singing bird gave me one of those gifts that keep on giving: The Entertainment 2010 for Charleston, SC. Yes, it was my idea, but I considered it a gift for both of us, as we both are on fixed incomes (no, we haven't won the lottery yet!) and it would stretch our entertainment and dining dollars quite nicely. Savannah isn't large enough to rate such a book yet, but there's good news. Since the book is part of a national group, quite a few of the discounts can be used everywhere in these United States. Nice!
Regal Cinemas has quite a few coupons in said book, a generous SIXTEEN of them, in fact. All but two offer a savings of $5 on admission for two tickets. Now, you know me: I love my movies!!! And, as I generally attend them solo, at first glance it seems those coupons might be difficult to use up during the course of a year. Not so! As I have found this week, the coupon requires the purchase of two tickets, BUT the tickets can be for TWO DIFFERENT MOVIES! Ah, what a perfect gift for a cinemaphile like moi!
Friday night, I found myself in Savannah with - incredible as it sounds - no specific plans. No dinner engagement, no art offering, no party. So, I took myself to a double-header, discount coupon in hand. The movies of the night were "When In Rome" followed by "It's Complicated", both dealing with love, as it would happen. My rationale for these choices was simple. The first movie was to allow me to re-visit Rome, to see the Forum once more, maybe even spot my name carved in marble atop the temple built for the beloved wife of Antoninus. And, on the basis of my having once been a wife and now divorced, I chose to see how Meryl Streep handled the situation. So, ulterior motives and all, into the cinema I trod.
Well, I saved $5 off the two tickets, getting to see both movies for only $14. Sah-weet! Then, because I used my Regal Crown Club card and hit a certain reward threshold, I also snagged a FREE ticket to a movie of my choice in the next three months. Wow! As an extra bonus, I thoroughly enjoyed both movies, getting many laughs and giggles throughout. A wonderful evening!
So, tonight, I thought I would repeat the feat and use another coupon for my version of a double-header. I saved another $5 with the coupon, then the Regal Crown Club rewarded me with a FREE small popcorn. Yum!
This time, I chose what I thought were two Oscar contenders (turns out, only one of them is, and it's not the one the Savannah Film Festival showed this past fall). Both, again, are love stories. Must be something in the air! "A Single Man" was first in the line-up and Colin Firth was spot on as a man cast adrift after the death of his partner. They had been together 16 years, separated only when a fatal car wreck interfered. Excellent, in so many ways. The second choice was one I had missed at the SFF, "The Young Victoria". Now, I'm not usually one for historical romances, truly, but... well, this was my second chance to see it on the big screen, you know? So, I did. And I am so glad that I did! Talk about romances! This story of Queen Victoria and her Prince Albert was everything a love story should be. Beautiful. I cannot recommend both of tonight's screenings highly enough.
Regal Cinemas has quite a few coupons in said book, a generous SIXTEEN of them, in fact. All but two offer a savings of $5 on admission for two tickets. Now, you know me: I love my movies!!! And, as I generally attend them solo, at first glance it seems those coupons might be difficult to use up during the course of a year. Not so! As I have found this week, the coupon requires the purchase of two tickets, BUT the tickets can be for TWO DIFFERENT MOVIES! Ah, what a perfect gift for a cinemaphile like moi!
Friday night, I found myself in Savannah with - incredible as it sounds - no specific plans. No dinner engagement, no art offering, no party. So, I took myself to a double-header, discount coupon in hand. The movies of the night were "When In Rome" followed by "It's Complicated", both dealing with love, as it would happen. My rationale for these choices was simple. The first movie was to allow me to re-visit Rome, to see the Forum once more, maybe even spot my name carved in marble atop the temple built for the beloved wife of Antoninus. And, on the basis of my having once been a wife and now divorced, I chose to see how Meryl Streep handled the situation. So, ulterior motives and all, into the cinema I trod.
Well, I saved $5 off the two tickets, getting to see both movies for only $14. Sah-weet! Then, because I used my Regal Crown Club card and hit a certain reward threshold, I also snagged a FREE ticket to a movie of my choice in the next three months. Wow! As an extra bonus, I thoroughly enjoyed both movies, getting many laughs and giggles throughout. A wonderful evening!
So, tonight, I thought I would repeat the feat and use another coupon for my version of a double-header. I saved another $5 with the coupon, then the Regal Crown Club rewarded me with a FREE small popcorn. Yum!
This time, I chose what I thought were two Oscar contenders (turns out, only one of them is, and it's not the one the Savannah Film Festival showed this past fall). Both, again, are love stories. Must be something in the air! "A Single Man" was first in the line-up and Colin Firth was spot on as a man cast adrift after the death of his partner. They had been together 16 years, separated only when a fatal car wreck interfered. Excellent, in so many ways. The second choice was one I had missed at the SFF, "The Young Victoria". Now, I'm not usually one for historical romances, truly, but... well, this was my second chance to see it on the big screen, you know? So, I did. And I am so glad that I did! Talk about romances! This story of Queen Victoria and her Prince Albert was everything a love story should be. Beautiful. I cannot recommend both of tonight's screenings highly enough.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
still me
One of the lessons I've (re)learned these past few months is this: whatever life throws at a person, they still NEED to be treated as they always have been. Not pitied, not shunned, not scorned. Too many times, the PERSON is equated with the physical body, though nothing could be farther from the truth. The physical body is simply the destructible, flawed vessel inhabited while doing time on this planet. The French philosopher, Teilhard DeChardin, long ago wrote: "We are not physical beings having a spiritual experience. Rather we are spiritual beings having a physical experience." Even before I knew of this person's writings, these words have been a cornerstone to the foundation of my views on life in this material world.
After the divorce, I kept telling everyone that I didn't want to be part of the great sadness in the world. I hadn't asked for the circumstances that threw me into this situation and I didn't want it to affect how people treated me. But the label "divorced" did change how I was treated. I was, and still am, the same spiritual being I ever was, with the same moral code I've had since my early 20's, but I found that my new label made folks a little uneasy. Suddenly, I couldn't be trusted around other people's husbands because I was an unescorted woman. Suddenly, I had friends questioning their own marriages because mine was no more. Suddenly, I was excluded from some social events because I would have been attending alone. Suddenly, I was regarded as "available" sexually.
What the hell?! I am still me, the same caring, trustworthy gal with the open heart, open mind, open arms. I am STILL me.
And my father is still himself. His body is full of Cancer, but the disease is NOT part of him. The disease is simply part of his body. Daddy still has his lively sense of humor, he still has his stories to tell, he still has the need for a connection to those he loves and holds dear. And so I have been trying to do as he wishes, to treat him still the same as I ever have, though maybe just a little nicer... then I get in my car to return home and shed my tears once I am on the road.
After the divorce, I kept telling everyone that I didn't want to be part of the great sadness in the world. I hadn't asked for the circumstances that threw me into this situation and I didn't want it to affect how people treated me. But the label "divorced" did change how I was treated. I was, and still am, the same spiritual being I ever was, with the same moral code I've had since my early 20's, but I found that my new label made folks a little uneasy. Suddenly, I couldn't be trusted around other people's husbands because I was an unescorted woman. Suddenly, I had friends questioning their own marriages because mine was no more. Suddenly, I was excluded from some social events because I would have been attending alone. Suddenly, I was regarded as "available" sexually.
What the hell?! I am still me, the same caring, trustworthy gal with the open heart, open mind, open arms. I am STILL me.
And my father is still himself. His body is full of Cancer, but the disease is NOT part of him. The disease is simply part of his body. Daddy still has his lively sense of humor, he still has his stories to tell, he still has the need for a connection to those he loves and holds dear. And so I have been trying to do as he wishes, to treat him still the same as I ever have, though maybe just a little nicer... then I get in my car to return home and shed my tears once I am on the road.
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