Mar
17
It has been very sunny the last couple days after a long stint of grey flat skies and boy does that make a difference for me. I mean, wow this just in, good weather feels good no WAY, right? But it is such a big lift.
I went for a long walk on the river trail yesterday and it seemed like all of Eugene was out enjoying the sun. I saw so many people, kids, dogs, birds, a nutria! (I am Team Nutria forever, sure they may be damaging and invasive, but they have invaded my heart), and several turtles. I get particularly excited about the nutria and turtles because they are not an everyday sighting. I am also deeply charmed by all the ducks and geese, a teeny bit afraid of the Canadian geese of course because despite the politeness inherent in their name they can be hissy fuckers.
Although it is true I have never seen a Canadian goose be aggressive on this trail. They are obviously quite used to people and they will eyeball you warily if they’re crossing as you approach but generally they are very chill. Probably smug and secure in not being known as American Geese, how embarrassing.
If I choose the other direction for a walk, through my nearby neighborhoods, I see a lot less people and animals but I will almost always encounter a flock of turkeys. There is one group that patrols around with one pure-white (albino?) turkey in their midst. A weirdly thrilling sight! These local turkeys seem to share exactly one-quarter of a single brain cell and I find their nervous bumbling kind of charming.
The river walk is where it’s at in terms of things to see, and also feeling like … part of a community, I guess. Now, to be clear, I am just whizzing along with headphones on, I’m in my own inner world, but just seeing people out doing a thing they enjoy is bolstering. People often smile a quick greeting as we pass. If I’m feeling a little too hermitty, it’s a real healthy walk for me. I can be around people without the introvert drain of interaction.
It’s exactly what I’d hoped for when I was first buying this house, the idea that the nearby trail would be such a benefit, and it sure has been. A wonderfully walkable neighborhood in general with many options, and the river path is the gem of the bunch.
I don’t know how one actively wards off injury aside from avoiding extreme sports etc, but one of my biggest worries is getting in some sort of mobility-stopping accident and now not only do I have to figure out how to take care of myself while living alone (yikes yikes yikes how would that work yikes), but my walks are brought to a halt. Oh MAN. Just peering weepily out my front window at all the walkers/bikers/rollerbladers, while Billy takes advantage of the situation and steals my credit cards.
Well, what can you do. Can’t live in fear, I’ll just hope for more sunshine, unbroken bones, smiling humans, complacent geese, surprise ROUSes.
Mar
16
If I could have seen my future, before we ever started talking seriously about divorce, I would have known two things. One, the marriage needed to end, absolutely no question about it. Two, the experience of family separation was going to be so painful, I probably would have done anything to avoid it. Even hang on in a marriage that wasn’t right for either of us.
I say family separation because it’s not the ex that I miss, it’s the feeling of being in a family. That was the part of my life that felt the most rewarding, the most successful, the most comforting. It was the very best thing about my life, and now it’s just … gone.
I knew there would be loss in divorce, of course. But I never anticipated being erased, forbidden from the house and the pets and the boys’ lives there. The ex has chosen no contact, because that is what he prefers. His family has seemingly chosen the same. The only way I see or hear about the boys is if they come to me, and of course they are busy young people. They have good lives with lots of family time, and I am a very very small part of those lives now.
I am no longer part of that family. I have not even met the woman the ex has been with since last fall, who gave the boys presents on Christmas morning.
I don’t know if the ex fully understands or minds how deeply this impacts me, and of course the boys. I believe they have adjusted well, and I don’t want to speak for them, but I don’t think it’s unreasonable to believe things would be better if their parents were on speaking terms. I have certainly adjusted my rose-colored hopes from the four of us having a weekly dinner or some such, but being fully excommunicated is just something I have been having a really hard time with.
Somewhere in the earlier part of this process I told the ex that we would always be a family, it would just have a different shape, and he responded that no, it would be the end of a family. “That’s what divorce is,” he said. I should have believed him, not that I think he’s right. In my mind, there’s no rulebook — divorce can be whatever you make it. We came to the initial decision on friendly terms, why not keep that vibe going, you know? But this is his process, it’s how he’s dealing with it, and as he told me, it brings him peace.
And I think it’s all quite a bit easier for him. He’s in the family home, he lives with Dylan, Riley’s there when he comes home from school, it’s his parents and brother’s family that they all spend time with. He can reminisce with people about the boys and past memories. He is with them all on Planet Sharps, while I am like some satellite that has lost all communications.
But let’s say I could rewind time and convince us to hang on for at least one more year, long enough for me to be with Dylan in his last year at home. Then I wouldn’t have this house that is so perfect for me. I wouldn’t have Billy. I would not have had this time of self-discovery and growth. I would not have learned my strength and ability to make this house a home, to keep on going through the hurt and rejection. I would not have met this lovely man I’ve been seeing who has been such a surprise, who has just by being himself applied a much-needed bike pump to my shriveled-up Grinch heart.
At the end of the day there’s simply no use in trying to balance out the scales. “Was it worth it?” is a moot question. It happened, we’re all here now, there’s no path that goes anywhere but forward. And I cannot control what anyone else thinks or chooses to do, I just have to find ways to live with it and make the best of a tough situation.
My therapist once told me that the best thing I could do for my boys is thrive, and I believe that. Some days I feel like the best I can do is survive, but others I do feel like a flower coming into deep bloom.
Turning to the sun on my own little solo orbit, heading towards the light.
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