Last night, my sister, brother-in-law and myself sat at the kitchen table and talked about our new year's resolutions. Mine were pretty simple. My brother-in-law's was even easier - "I will no longer vacuum the pool." He looked at my sister smugly and that was the end of it. We all started laughing. My sister said she wants to lose the extra weight this year and maybe quit one of her jobs. It was quiet for a minute and I said, "I know how you can lose a lot of weight fast." I had her attention. She waited for me to reply and I said, "Just get divorced, you'll be skinny like me in no time." She didn't say anything, but my brother-in-law reached across the table, took her hand and said, "I'd rather just keep buying bigger clothes."
So would I, so would I...
Monday, December 31, 2007
Sunday, December 30, 2007
Haste
I met a woman yesterday on the airplane back into Baltimore. We sat for nearly three hours together, waiting for the plane to take off in the blizzard that hit the northeast in the last couple of days. She's been married for thirty-three years, was close to divorcing on two occasions, but they stayed together to spite the statistics. She said it was the best decision she ever made. Talked to my neighbor a few days ago. We stood facing my house, watching the kids and the dogs play together. He shook his head in sadness and said he and his wife were so close to divorce at one point in their marriage that their marriage counselor said they'd be better off apart. They, in turn, got upset with the marriage counselor and stayed together to spite him. He said it was the best decision he ever made. Both people went on to raise well-adjusted, hard-working children.
We grow in marriage, tightening our grip on our past as we walk through the stages of the marriage. The bliss of the new beginning, the quiet nights spent reflecting on what the future shall bring, and the fruition of a dream as it comes out crying and full of life are all the glorious pieces of the marriage. Then there are the bills, the pressures from work, the crying babies, the lack of sleep, the maintenance of the house, the laundry, the groceries and the meals. Somewhere inside of that big mess are two people, gripping their past, riding the bumpy ride and losing sight of what the future will bring. It's easy to lose sight, lose hope, lose the idiosyncrasies of the other person that made you fall in love. And then one day, as your standing on a rug, piecing together the missing pieces, yearning for the past and the future to meet in a sweet kiss, you see your significant other race into the room, grip the rug in his hands and yank it from beneath your feet. A hasty, hasty decision and you know it's a mistake, you know it's the biggest mistake of his life, and you try. You try. You try. And finally, you stand up, straighten the rug and heavy with regret and fear and pity, you step out on your own.
I doubt very much that in ten years, the spouse who made the hasty decision will one day stand looking at his neighbors' house, or talking to a stranger on a plane will say it was the best decision of his life. It might be a better decision, sure, but the best? Can't be, not when there are kids involved. Kids who cry for their parents together, kids who were swept into the air by that yank of the rug and who are still landing, landing softly, maybe landing elsewhere. A hasty decision like that is selfish, but that decision had to be made that way because anyone who was looking outside of himself/herself in reflection upon the lives it affects would have never done it. A stronger person would have seen the damage and tried to thwart it, at least, tried.
I am reading a book, a list of things to know, written by three doctors. I just came across the following:
WHY DIVORCE HURTS CHILDREN
1. It signals the collapse of the family structure - the child feels alone and frightened. This loneliness can be acute and long remembered.
2. A couple's capacity to be parents is diminished. They are preoccupied with their own emotional survival during the critical months (or years) of divorce.
3. Divorce creates conflicts of loyalty in the children. Whose side do they take? They feel pulled by love and loyalty in both directions.
4. Uncertainty about the future often causes deep-seated insecurity in children. Being dependent mainly on one parent can create a great deal of anxiety.
5. Anger and resentment between parents, which is prevalent in most divorces, creates intense fear in the child. The younger he or she is, the more damaging the climate of anger can be.
6. Children take upon themselves anxiety concerning their parents. They worry intensely about their mother in particular, with the departure of the father being a terrifying event.
7. Divorce represents the loss of so many things that a deep depression is almost inevitable. Yet most parents fail to recognize depression in their children.
"The trauma of divorce is second only to death. Children sense a deep loss and feel they are suddenly vulnerable to forces beyond their control." -- Dr. Lee Salk
A decision to leave, made in haste, made in anger, made without a second thought, without looking at every factor involved is wrong; it's weak, it's wrong and when it is done in the face of a woman who tried desperately to paint the big picture, who was willing to work on forgiving the indiscretions and insults, who was willing to take the time and use every resource necessary to make it work, is an act of complete selfishness.
I want to forgive. Not for him, but for myself. Yet I just cannot fathom ever forgiving him for pulling the rug from beneath his children's' feet. I have no idea how I'll ever forgive him for that.
We grow in marriage, tightening our grip on our past as we walk through the stages of the marriage. The bliss of the new beginning, the quiet nights spent reflecting on what the future shall bring, and the fruition of a dream as it comes out crying and full of life are all the glorious pieces of the marriage. Then there are the bills, the pressures from work, the crying babies, the lack of sleep, the maintenance of the house, the laundry, the groceries and the meals. Somewhere inside of that big mess are two people, gripping their past, riding the bumpy ride and losing sight of what the future will bring. It's easy to lose sight, lose hope, lose the idiosyncrasies of the other person that made you fall in love. And then one day, as your standing on a rug, piecing together the missing pieces, yearning for the past and the future to meet in a sweet kiss, you see your significant other race into the room, grip the rug in his hands and yank it from beneath your feet. A hasty, hasty decision and you know it's a mistake, you know it's the biggest mistake of his life, and you try. You try. You try. And finally, you stand up, straighten the rug and heavy with regret and fear and pity, you step out on your own.
I doubt very much that in ten years, the spouse who made the hasty decision will one day stand looking at his neighbors' house, or talking to a stranger on a plane will say it was the best decision of his life. It might be a better decision, sure, but the best? Can't be, not when there are kids involved. Kids who cry for their parents together, kids who were swept into the air by that yank of the rug and who are still landing, landing softly, maybe landing elsewhere. A hasty decision like that is selfish, but that decision had to be made that way because anyone who was looking outside of himself/herself in reflection upon the lives it affects would have never done it. A stronger person would have seen the damage and tried to thwart it, at least, tried.
I am reading a book, a list of things to know, written by three doctors. I just came across the following:
WHY DIVORCE HURTS CHILDREN
1. It signals the collapse of the family structure - the child feels alone and frightened. This loneliness can be acute and long remembered.
2. A couple's capacity to be parents is diminished. They are preoccupied with their own emotional survival during the critical months (or years) of divorce.
3. Divorce creates conflicts of loyalty in the children. Whose side do they take? They feel pulled by love and loyalty in both directions.
4. Uncertainty about the future often causes deep-seated insecurity in children. Being dependent mainly on one parent can create a great deal of anxiety.
5. Anger and resentment between parents, which is prevalent in most divorces, creates intense fear in the child. The younger he or she is, the more damaging the climate of anger can be.
6. Children take upon themselves anxiety concerning their parents. They worry intensely about their mother in particular, with the departure of the father being a terrifying event.
7. Divorce represents the loss of so many things that a deep depression is almost inevitable. Yet most parents fail to recognize depression in their children.
"The trauma of divorce is second only to death. Children sense a deep loss and feel they are suddenly vulnerable to forces beyond their control." -- Dr. Lee Salk
A decision to leave, made in haste, made in anger, made without a second thought, without looking at every factor involved is wrong; it's weak, it's wrong and when it is done in the face of a woman who tried desperately to paint the big picture, who was willing to work on forgiving the indiscretions and insults, who was willing to take the time and use every resource necessary to make it work, is an act of complete selfishness.
I want to forgive. Not for him, but for myself. Yet I just cannot fathom ever forgiving him for pulling the rug from beneath his children's' feet. I have no idea how I'll ever forgive him for that.
Friday, December 28, 2007
In the Middle
Gracie's tooth is rotten. She lost part of it and the vet pulled a chunk of wood about the size of a pinky nail that had been embedded in her gums. The wood came from the doorframe of my breezeway that she tore apart because of separation anxiety due to the abrupt departure of a premarital asset, my other dog, Sebastian.
On the way to the vet, I had the windows down because the odor from the rotten tooth had already made me throw up twice in the past day or so, and I wasn't about to do it all over myself in the car. When we got to the vet, he was closing shop but agreed to let me bring her in. He examined her mouth and told me I was looking at just under a thousand bucks to get the tooth pulled and all the medications necessary for her good health. I shrugged my shoulders, fought back tears and asked if it was any cheaper if I just got her put to sleep because there was no way I could afford a thousand bucks. I explained the financial situation (i.e. divorce) and the look he gave me was so sympathetic that I had to turn away from him. A few seconds after taking Gracie into the back room to extract the tooth, he walked into the room smiling from ear to ear. He said, "It's fortuitous that when I reached in to examine her mouth, her tooth and the chunk of wood came out on its own. You're just looking at the cost of antibiotics." I beamed in response and when he shook my hand to bid me farewell, he said, "There is light at the end of the tunnel, even though you're swimming in darkness right now." (He had gone through a divorce six years earlier).
On the way home I thought about the darkness I was feeling and started to get sad again. I sat at the red light, thinking. I looked out the driver's side window and saw a long white limousine with "just married" ribbons on the antenna. I chuckled sardonically and turned to my right, and saw a little boy with big tears, and red-rimmed eyes sitting in the backseat of the car that was following a hearse. And I cried.
My truck, smelly with rotten teeth, is the vehicle of choice and I found solace in the middle of the road. It looks like synchronicity is creeping forward.
On the way to the vet, I had the windows down because the odor from the rotten tooth had already made me throw up twice in the past day or so, and I wasn't about to do it all over myself in the car. When we got to the vet, he was closing shop but agreed to let me bring her in. He examined her mouth and told me I was looking at just under a thousand bucks to get the tooth pulled and all the medications necessary for her good health. I shrugged my shoulders, fought back tears and asked if it was any cheaper if I just got her put to sleep because there was no way I could afford a thousand bucks. I explained the financial situation (i.e. divorce) and the look he gave me was so sympathetic that I had to turn away from him. A few seconds after taking Gracie into the back room to extract the tooth, he walked into the room smiling from ear to ear. He said, "It's fortuitous that when I reached in to examine her mouth, her tooth and the chunk of wood came out on its own. You're just looking at the cost of antibiotics." I beamed in response and when he shook my hand to bid me farewell, he said, "There is light at the end of the tunnel, even though you're swimming in darkness right now." (He had gone through a divorce six years earlier).
On the way home I thought about the darkness I was feeling and started to get sad again. I sat at the red light, thinking. I looked out the driver's side window and saw a long white limousine with "just married" ribbons on the antenna. I chuckled sardonically and turned to my right, and saw a little boy with big tears, and red-rimmed eyes sitting in the backseat of the car that was following a hearse. And I cried.
My truck, smelly with rotten teeth, is the vehicle of choice and I found solace in the middle of the road. It looks like synchronicity is creeping forward.
Monday, December 24, 2007
Slap Happy
My discourse in self-pity is nearing its end. Everyone has to submerge themselves in it once in awhile, and the advice of my friends and family has been to submerge, maybe even go under holding my breath, and then get out and wrap myself in a warm towel. I am sitting at this computer with warm towels wrapped around my shoulders and draped across my knees. And it's just in time to celebrate Christmas properly! My plans for tomorrow (Christmas Day) have consisted of celebrating with a bottle of Grey Goose and a jar of olives, but now I think I'll go over to my friend's house for dessert and maybe a glass of wine. Maybe.
Clarity hit me while I was under. That's what did it. I realized that maybe my marriage was on the rocks, but we were still in the boat! The boat wasn't even leaking yet - our children were safe and dry and warm. But then he jumped out, and the splash was such that we all got soaked, me mostly. And for some reason I spent the last several months thinking that maybe I had pushed him, but knowing I didn't. I was loving the right way. Truth be told, I still love the right way. And what he did was wrong, pure and simple. It was wrong. I'll take the blame for perhaps sitting in the boat on the rocks for too long, but leaving like he did, was wrong. So, I can't feel sorry for myself any longer because the issue isn't really mine. I think of my brothers and a few male friends that I have and envision them in the same type of marriage that I had - and I know, acutely, that if they were to leave, if at all, they would have done it the right way. In my months of self-pity I was slapping the wrong person in the face! Now that clarity has surfaced, I am turning my hand outward. In my mind, I am taking aim and punching him straight across the mouth. And it feels sensational - sensational to know, finally, that I deserved better (and so did my kids).
Clarity hit me while I was under. That's what did it. I realized that maybe my marriage was on the rocks, but we were still in the boat! The boat wasn't even leaking yet - our children were safe and dry and warm. But then he jumped out, and the splash was such that we all got soaked, me mostly. And for some reason I spent the last several months thinking that maybe I had pushed him, but knowing I didn't. I was loving the right way. Truth be told, I still love the right way. And what he did was wrong, pure and simple. It was wrong. I'll take the blame for perhaps sitting in the boat on the rocks for too long, but leaving like he did, was wrong. So, I can't feel sorry for myself any longer because the issue isn't really mine. I think of my brothers and a few male friends that I have and envision them in the same type of marriage that I had - and I know, acutely, that if they were to leave, if at all, they would have done it the right way. In my months of self-pity I was slapping the wrong person in the face! Now that clarity has surfaced, I am turning my hand outward. In my mind, I am taking aim and punching him straight across the mouth. And it feels sensational - sensational to know, finally, that I deserved better (and so did my kids).
Saturday, December 22, 2007
Resolutions
Okay, one more for today - that'll be five. This one will be much more upbeat, as it is my annual list of new year's resolutions, and my resolutions are really, really, really easy to keep, except for maybe a few.
1) Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming... (from Finding Nemo)
2) Wash my face nightly.
3) Redline, redraft and publish my 'novel' (I guess it's not a novel yet, but it's a first draft, long enough to be a novel, and I wrote it this past year).
4) Game night (Wednesdays) with the kids.
5) Continue writing my blog.
6) Start my consulting business, on the side, until it becomes a money-maker.
7) Kick butt at work
8) Maybe start dating? (Ugh, it makes me gag to think about it - seriously, I looked like Jim Carrey in one of his movies where he gags. Any help here? Was it Liar-Liar?)
9) Take a writing workshop
10) Vacation with the kids and WITHOUT the kids.
11) Go horseback riding for the first time! (This has been on my list for the last 8 years and it needs to be done soon before osteoporosis sets in and it'll be too late).
12) Laugh! Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha....
13) Keep smiling - my dimples, although thinning out now and stretching are defining elements of my face. I'll keep showing them off.
14) Sign Tony, Paige and myself up for karate - work toward that black belt. YA-HO (or whatever they grunt out as they kick in the air).
15) Get my teeth whitened so I have a beee-UUUUU-tiful smile...
16) Thank God every day and night for my wonderful family and friends.
1) Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming... (from Finding Nemo)
2) Wash my face nightly.
3) Redline, redraft and publish my 'novel' (I guess it's not a novel yet, but it's a first draft, long enough to be a novel, and I wrote it this past year).
4) Game night (Wednesdays) with the kids.
5) Continue writing my blog.
6) Start my consulting business, on the side, until it becomes a money-maker.
7) Kick butt at work
8) Maybe start dating? (Ugh, it makes me gag to think about it - seriously, I looked like Jim Carrey in one of his movies where he gags. Any help here? Was it Liar-Liar?)
9) Take a writing workshop
10) Vacation with the kids and WITHOUT the kids.
11) Go horseback riding for the first time! (This has been on my list for the last 8 years and it needs to be done soon before osteoporosis sets in and it'll be too late).
12) Laugh! Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha....
13) Keep smiling - my dimples, although thinning out now and stretching are defining elements of my face. I'll keep showing them off.
14) Sign Tony, Paige and myself up for karate - work toward that black belt. YA-HO (or whatever they grunt out as they kick in the air).
15) Get my teeth whitened so I have a beee-UUUUU-tiful smile...
16) Thank God every day and night for my wonderful family and friends.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
A Merry Little Christmas
It was eight years ago that I moved to Maryland, and it was my first Christmas season spent away from the family. I was working in Baltimore city at the time and absolutely hated the atmosphere - bums begging for money, drunks trying to hug you, homeless people sleeping on the air vents of the city for warmth, smoke billowing around them. The sound of distant sirens and car horns filled the air. I had been working for a law firm, putting in twelve hour days, my eyes straining from staring at word after word about asbestos liability. I was tired, I was lonesome and I was homesick.
A friend of mine at the firm asked me out to lunch. It was the first time I ever said yes as I was usually to preoccupied with work. We pulled on our warm coats, secured the scarves around our necks and stepped out into the city. We walked a couple blocks, and stopped for soup and salad. She talked me into taking a stroll by the shops to look in at some of the Christmas displays. We laughed a little, but the ho-hum of my spirits was weighing me down. I shook my head at the cold, homeless people when they held their hands out for money, annoyed by it. We stepped inside a shop so she could pick up a last minute gift and I was annoyed. I remember standing by the door impatiently as she made her purchase, waiting to get back to the office so that maybe I could finish an hour earlier. Sensing my aggravation, she smiled and hurried next to me. We stepped outside and walked to a busy intersection. At the corner was a man playing the trumpet for money; his clothes were disheveled, his gray beard grungy with dirt. I looked at him, shook my head and watched as he put that trumpet to his lips. He began to play "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" and as we stood and waited for the 'walk' sign to turn green, tears streamed down my face. It was the most beautiful version of that song I had ever heard. I reached into my pocket, grabbing for bills and threw money in the empty case beside him. From that moment on, my heart was lighter and I went back to the office, packed up my belongings and went home for the rest of the day.
The Christmas spirit grabbed me yesterday. I traveled to D.C. with the kids and some friends and we visited the National Christmas tree, majestic in its height and girth; the kids were thrilled with Frosty and Rudolph, and I ate the best damn chili dog I've ever had. The sadness over this Christmas was shivered away as I walked in the cold of D.C. I wanted to be immersed in my own self-pity this Christmas, but it's impossible. Impossible because I have a family and friends that are unbelievable. To all of you, have yourselves a merry little Christmas. Here are the words:
Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas
Written by Ralph Blane, Hugh Martin
Have yourself a merry little Christmas
Let your heart be light
From now on your troubles will be out of sight, yeah
Have yourself a merry little Christmas
Make the Yuletide gay
From now on your troubles will be miles away, oh ooh
Here we are as in olden days
Happy golden days of yore, ah
Faithful friends who are dear to us
Gather near to us, once more, ooh
Through the years we all will be together
If the fates allow
Hang a shining star upon the highest bough, ohh
And have yourself a merry little Christmas now
Oooh...
Faithful friends who are dear to us
Gather near to us, once more, ohh
Through the years we all will be together
If the fates allow, oh yeah
But 'til then we'll have to muddle through, somehow
Oh yeah, oh ooh oh
And have yourself a merry little Christmas now
A friend of mine at the firm asked me out to lunch. It was the first time I ever said yes as I was usually to preoccupied with work. We pulled on our warm coats, secured the scarves around our necks and stepped out into the city. We walked a couple blocks, and stopped for soup and salad. She talked me into taking a stroll by the shops to look in at some of the Christmas displays. We laughed a little, but the ho-hum of my spirits was weighing me down. I shook my head at the cold, homeless people when they held their hands out for money, annoyed by it. We stepped inside a shop so she could pick up a last minute gift and I was annoyed. I remember standing by the door impatiently as she made her purchase, waiting to get back to the office so that maybe I could finish an hour earlier. Sensing my aggravation, she smiled and hurried next to me. We stepped outside and walked to a busy intersection. At the corner was a man playing the trumpet for money; his clothes were disheveled, his gray beard grungy with dirt. I looked at him, shook my head and watched as he put that trumpet to his lips. He began to play "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" and as we stood and waited for the 'walk' sign to turn green, tears streamed down my face. It was the most beautiful version of that song I had ever heard. I reached into my pocket, grabbing for bills and threw money in the empty case beside him. From that moment on, my heart was lighter and I went back to the office, packed up my belongings and went home for the rest of the day.
The Christmas spirit grabbed me yesterday. I traveled to D.C. with the kids and some friends and we visited the National Christmas tree, majestic in its height and girth; the kids were thrilled with Frosty and Rudolph, and I ate the best damn chili dog I've ever had. The sadness over this Christmas was shivered away as I walked in the cold of D.C. I wanted to be immersed in my own self-pity this Christmas, but it's impossible. Impossible because I have a family and friends that are unbelievable. To all of you, have yourselves a merry little Christmas. Here are the words:
Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas
Written by Ralph Blane, Hugh Martin
Have yourself a merry little Christmas
Let your heart be light
From now on your troubles will be out of sight, yeah
Have yourself a merry little Christmas
Make the Yuletide gay
From now on your troubles will be miles away, oh ooh
Here we are as in olden days
Happy golden days of yore, ah
Faithful friends who are dear to us
Gather near to us, once more, ooh
Through the years we all will be together
If the fates allow
Hang a shining star upon the highest bough, ohh
And have yourself a merry little Christmas now
Oooh...
Faithful friends who are dear to us
Gather near to us, once more, ohh
Through the years we all will be together
If the fates allow, oh yeah
But 'til then we'll have to muddle through, somehow
Oh yeah, oh ooh oh
And have yourself a merry little Christmas now
Changing Seasons in a Changing World
I'm in the market for a leaf blower. It is number one on my list of Christmas Gifts to receive. My house is surrounded by tall poplars, bushy oaks, a black walnut tree and I think, if they weren't all removed to make room for the kids' playset, a couple of cherry trees. There are leaves everywhere. And I am noticing them more than ever this fall season.
Perhaps I am noticing them because of the sheer amount of them in my driveway, on my lawn, in my house - tracked in from the dogs. But they are everywhere. They remind me of how my year has gone thus far.
Yes, it is close to the end of 2007 and every year about this time I begin to reflect upon the year so that I can write a year end summation on New Year's Eve. I've done it every year since 1995. This year it will be "the year of the fallen leaves"; in 2005 it was the year of "the dark horse"; and in my 2006 summation, I simply labeled it, "good riddance 2005". I could easily say the same for 2007, but it wasn't such a bad year. Many, many parts of it were bad - the leaves fell heavily on my home this year. I am kicking them up every day, in every way. But I am also seeing them blow by me, onto my neighbors' lawn and maybe that's good for me, but I'd take them all. Why should my neighbors have to clean up a mess of leaves when I already have a mess of my own? I'd rake my friends' lawns and the lawns of every one of my family if I could. But I can't. That's why a leaf blower would be nice.
Ironically, I did have a leaf blower. I used it in the early spring to fill up the kids swimming pool - sticking the blowy end into the hole to get some air so that they'd have somewhere to swim in the hot summer months. By the end of summer, the long nails of my thirsty dogs dug a hole in the pool and the thing deflated. After I patched it with duct tape, I pulled the pulley thing on the leaf blower and found that it didn't budge. It just quit on me. The damn thing must have been left out in the rain - neglect, or maybe it was just time for it to say good-bye. In any case, I no longer have a leaf blower but I have all these leaves that I just don't know what to do with.
I guess I'll pull the rake from the garage and start making piles. I'm not raking the leaves to make my house look nicer. My house looks just great - especially when the kids are in it to make it a home. I am doing it for the kids - so that they can use all those fallen leaves and find pleasure - to jump in, roll in and throw around. Those leaves, some the size of my head, falling down all around them. What pleasure to fall onto, stomp to bits and throw at each other... all those leaves just waiting for their little feet and hands.
I changed my mind. I'm in the market for a camera.
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