Irretrievably broken. That is the official legal terminology on the divorce decree. March 26, 2019- the day that marks the legal end of my marriage to Michelle. A marriage that began twenty six years and twenty days prior. In reality, the date holds no special significance, other than it is the day of our hearing. We have been separated for over seven months since she moved out last August, and things had been deteriorating long before that. Irretrievably broken. I am having a hard time coming to terms with that description. That is not to say that I am having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that our time together has come to an end. That part is painfully obvious. But to call it "irretrievably broken" seems to me to be an attempt to erase everything that occurred over the last 26-plus years. As if it never existed. I cannot accept that notion. When you read a lengthy novel and reach the last page of the last chapter, you close the back cover and place the novel back on a bookshelf. At that point, the novel does not become "irretrievably broken", it just becomes "finished". Even if you did not like the way the book ended, even if everything did not resolve pleasantly, the whole of the book still exists within the confines of its covers. All of the characters, plot twists, high points, low points, humorous parts and sad parts, protagonists and antagonists, they are all there in their entirety, ready to be reflected back upon whenever you so choose.
In much the same way as the novel is finished, so has the story of our marriage reached it's conclusion. Not irretrievably broken. Just finished. Everything we experienced throughout those years remain intact. All of our successes and failures, our joys and our sorrows. The fun times, the hard times, the good and the bad. They are all still there. As are the memories. A poorly worded proposal on my part that almost got me pushed into the Gulf of Mexico. Ditching our wedding reception and opting for the drive trough at McDonald's. The birth of our daughter and watching her grow up into an amazing woman. Countless camping trips with the requisite pizza and monopoly night. Bringing home a calf in the back of the old Dodge van. Christmas seasons and anniversary celebrations. And many more memories that are sure to come back to mind over time, once the rawness of the current events subsides. Who knows, maybe one day we can sit down over a drink and reminisce. One day. Maybe.
So, what happened? When did things start going wrong? I really don't know the answer. The last couple of years have been pretty rough on the both of us. Upon returning from an outback excursion in mid 2016, it was apparent that something had changed. Things seemed decidedly different when I got back home after three weeks away. In retrospect, it would be hard pressed to know whether or not that was the beginning, or it just took us being apart for a while to notice just how far things had gone down hill. Sort of a not seeing the forest for the trees thing.
While it is true that this coincided with me being diagnosed with prostate cancer, I honestly don't think that it was a major driver. It would be very easy to pull the "she left me because of cancer and its side effects"card, I just don't think that it is the case. It might have played a tertiary role, but it would be unfair of me to accuse the same person who stood toe to toe with me during both of my parent's end of life issues of not having the fortitude to stand by me with a cancer diagnosis. That just doesn't add up. Maybe we failed at empty nesting. That is not that uncommon. Perhaps we just grew apart. Maybe we just need different things out of life, and it should be left at that. No accusations. No blame. No fault. No regrets. No "irretrievably broken".
One thing that I know for sure is that she is full speed ahead with a new chapter in her life with someone else by her side. And I can honestly say that I hold no animosity at this point, and wish her nothing but happiness and joy. I somewhat regret that I could no longer be a contributor to that joy, but it is what it is. I will also freely admit that it took a while for me to get to this point. I have no words to describe the range of emotions I felt last August 10th, watching another man show up to my house in a U-haul, and standing idly by as they loaded up all of the things she wanted to take, and drive off. That was a hard pill to swallow. Not to mention finding that all of our marriage and wedding photos and memorabilia got left behind. Yea, she was definitely looking for a clean break. That part was obvious.
Still, I really do not have any interest in remaining angry or resentful. Did it sting? Yes. Could it have been handled differently? In my opinion, yes. It didn't need to go down that way. But at the same time, something needed to happen. Our life together was not improving. Perhaps sooner than later was better for both of us. In many ways, I feel less alone now, living by myself, than I did a year ago. No doubt she feels the same.
As the date of our court hearing approaches (spoiler alert - I am writing this ahead of time), several friends of mine that are aware of what is going on have been asking when the "divorce party" is happening and am I "looking forward to freedom" or other such things. I know that they are trying to be supportive, but nothing could be further from how I really feel. There will be no victory lap, because there is no victory. It is just something that needs to happen. My main reason for using an attorney for a divorce filing is that I believe that the best hope of doing this thing somewhat amicably is to get it done swiftly and correctly the first time. Letting it linger or trying it DIY style would just give more opportunity for emotions to get in the way.
Our 26th anniversary is a week away - March 6. I placed an order to have a small bouquet of flowers delivered to her at work on that day - much like I have always done for the previous twenty five years. The only thing different this time was the note card. I just wished her happiness and joy in her new life. It just seemed like it would be wrong to let our last anniversary go by without some sort of acknowledgement. Silly, I know, all things considered.
So, for all of you out there who think I should remain angry and bitter, sorry to disappoint. No, just kidding, I am not really sorry at all. Maybe I really should be mad as hell, but I just cant bring myself to sustain that emotion for any length of time. Believe me, I tried a few times at first. Just couldn't make it happen. Maybe it is due to the drug therapies I am on that tend to manipulate my emotions. Maybe it is because I know that any energy I use up being angry is energy I can't use to keep on living and fighting cancer. Maybe because I have come to the realization that one more angry word or hateful comment will not help anyone. Maybe, as a close friend suggested, I am just fooling myself. Perhaps I am more upset than I am willing to allow myself to admit. Time will tell, I guess. Regardless, the one thing I am certain of is that there has already been more than enough pain to go around. No need to get in the last word or dig. I think that Don Henley's song,
"The Heart of the Matter" sums up my thoughts :
I've been tryin' to get down
To the heart of the matter
But my will gets weak
And my thoughts seem to scatter
But I think it's about forgiveness
Forgiveness
Even if, even if, you don't love me anymore.
So, What are my plans going forward? I don't really have any specifics figured out yet. There are lots of unknowns still - which means that there are also lots of options. I don't really have any interest in the adult dating scene - not to mention that there are some specific side effects of my treatments that would present some significant stumbling blocks in an attempt to have any sort of a physical relationship. But who knows?
On other fronts, my musical sub-career seems to be going really well, playing in several bands and keeping me busier than ever. I finally made thirty years at work. I am for the first time in my life seriously studying my retirement options. Not that I plan on not working - just doing it differently and smarter.
And travel. By the time that anyone reads this, I will be back from a ten day trip to South Korea with my daughter. I have at least two other trips planned for this year alone, and there is talk of possibly another back country excursion in 2020. Not to mention, the Camino De Santiago is still on my long term list.
This is definitely not the way I planned for my life to turn out, but I will none the less embrace whatever lies ahead on the horizon with an open mind, heart, and open arms. There is nothing out there that is not retrievable, and I am a hell of a long way from being broken. I may have taken a few dings and a little worse for the wear, but I am damn sure not broken. And that is all my heart has to say of the matter.
Peace out, everyone. With a tip of the hat to REO Speedwagon, It's Time For Me To Fly.
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Although she was and is the absolute love of my life, I survived my wife leaving me, because a month later, she came back. It has been two years since that took place and almost two years since my terminal diagnosis. Reading your comments, although I can only accept them with the value you give them, I do have a small amount of wonder. My wonder is based upon my own experience however. It was my joy that she returned ... but when the water gets choppy, my mind monsters return and I wonder if the exit will once again present. Reading your blog I have to wonder if I would have been better to also have moved on along. You may be the smarter.
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