I was surprised to log into my word press and realize that it has been over a month since my last post. Time seems to be flying, though the days seem so long.
I am at a point in life now of reflection, I suppose. My daily activity is boring and routine and does not deserve a mention. I seem to have awakened in a transitional phase, that at the beginning, created lots of stress and was filled with rampant emotions. I am assume it is due to “survival mode” kicking in that I have come to find a peace in my life.
When my ex husband and I separated almost 8 months ago, I was catapulted into a world that I never realized existed. A cold, cruel, world filled with self-doubt, anger, loneliness and guilt. This divorce has honestly been the hardest thing I have ever had to face in my life.
Interestingly enough, it is not my first. When my first husband and I parted ways I was 25 years young and was raising three small children on my own. I do not remember times being so hard, trying or painful. I have spent hours upon days going over the events of my first divorce and cannot seem to recall the days being this difficult. Maybe it was due to the fact that we do have three children together and we were settled that we would be in each others lives regardless of where life took us. Our divorce was amicable, I met him when I was 15, he was 21. Our first child was born when I was 18, our second at 19 and our last at 22. With the whirlwind of youth, the force of having to grow up so fast and the age difference between us, time took us to a point where we no longer were the same people, we didn’t share the same dreams or ambitions in life, other than to raise our children with a loving, nurturing life. We agreed to disagree and parted ways, with a great understanding that our children needed us as parental units to stay mature towards each other. We did not have property to divide, we were poor and had lived very modestly for the duration of our marriage. I took the hope chest full of photos with me, making copies over time and sharing with him. We never hired attorneys, fought over child custody, or paid child support. As time passed, we would always communicate civilly and make decisions based on what our children’s needs were. There was pain involved in ending my first marriage, that much I remember, but as time passed, my first ex husband remained a great friend and confidant and a much respected person in my life. I remember reaching a point of re-entering the dating world. I was extremely overwhelmed, I had not dated since I was 15 and obviously did not have much experience before that. Though it was exciting being young and single and venturing into a new life for the first time in my life, I had the peace of knowing when times were hard, confusing or painful, I could call my first ex husband and talk for hours about what was happening. Sixteen years later, our children grown now, I still have that comfort, though not in the same form due to his new marriage. He has always remained a constant in my life, phoning me when old friends from home have life changing events, keeping me up to date on my mother whom I have not spoken with in over 7 years, etc. For his presence in my life, I am more than grateful. He knew me 25 years ago and we share that bond of a 25 year friendship that no one can break. We share our children’s life events together, photos of the kids, holidays, etc. Not many women are blessed to have that type of relationship in their life.
This time around, I have not been so fortunate. I remember when I met my estranged husband and we began dating seriously. He met my children, rushed quickly into my heart and captivated my dreams. After 9 months of dating, he asked me to marry him. I phoned my first ex husband to tell him the news and to pass onto the children. (they were in his care for the weekend) His response was one of silence and a long deep sigh. I waited for some words to come across the phone line but for minutes there was nothing but dead silence, to the extreme of my thinking that we had been disconnected somehow. Finally, he spoke. His tone was low and he sounded sad, really sad. “Don’t do it Christie!” My reaction was one of shock, disbelief and anger. How could the person who had been so close to me in my life not be happy for me? Was it jealousy? Anger? Worry over a new man in his kids life? What? I gathered my thoughts, took a deep breath of my own and asked why. He responded that he knew I was going to get hurt, he knew this man was not who I thought he was, and to put it honest, he told me he did not want to me to wake up one day, unhappily married to some bald, fat, abusive, control freak. I was horrified he could say these things. I was not very nice, spoke really nasty to him and hung up on him. I remember going to a private area in our home to cry, so my now estranged husband would not know about the conversation. In reflection, I see how right on the money my first ex was in calling him out. You see, when my estranged husband entered my life and met my kids he was all I had dreamed of: responsible, career oriented, established, drug free, handsome. When he met my children, he played sports with them, taught them to ride bikes, took them shopping, etc. When he met my ex husband, he treated him horribly, he was always jealous of the fact that I had been married before and it was a triple edged knife in the fact that I bore his three children. He never wanted the kids to talk about their dad or refer that they had any other man in their life but him: with that said, I obviously was to never discuss my first husband. He even ventured so far as to try to toss my first wedding albums photos in the trash, A memory that I have kept in my hope chest for my kids to cherish. After we were married, my first husbands envision of my future became true. I awoke way to quickly after our wedding, to find myself married to a cold, heartless, passive/aggressive personality who was not even a shell of the man I had met. It took me 10 years to finally find my way out of the marriage and you know, not once has my first husband ever mentioned an “I told you so!” The day I phoned him to tell him of the separation, he quietly listened, cleared his throat and offered a “I am truly sorry” and I could hear the tears in his voice.
Since the seperation, and even more since our daughter moved in with him, he phones or occasion or texts randomly to keep me up to date on holidays, our daughters activities, or to simply ask if I am ok.
My estranged husband, not so much a peep in eight months.
(to be continued)