Oct
13
“Your marriage was dissolved on 8/20/25.”
What a sad, weird message to have sitting in my Gmail, for my own personal digital eternity I guess, categorized with its little bummer “Divorce” label. Dissolved. I picture it: everything that was, stirred in the great glass of right now. Like that, it’s gone.
Well. It wasn’t the 24 years together that was dissolved, it was the legal status of our relationship. We aren’t married any more, but we used to be, and we had many great years and built a wonderful family and had lots of adventures and none of that goes away. It happened. I got to experience it all, and it’s okay that it’s in the past. Nothing about us now can change what was.
I sometimes think that if I’d been able to know how things would go after the divorce, I would have wanted to leave a long time ago. But then our family life would have been disrupted much sooner. If the timing had been different, then I would not have this house I love, John might not have met his girlfriend (!), I wouldn’t have Billy, the most magical kitten in the universe. It all happened the way it did. I got to experience it all, WHEW, and we keep going forward.
That’s in the museum now, I found myself saying a few times when I was visiting with my mom and aunt. The young couple John and I used to be, the new parents, the school years, the four-pack of us, all the wonderful road trips and travels and the laughter and the real hard times. It’s in the museum. I can visit the artifacts and remember, I can’t go back. And that’s okay. It’s okay because that’s how it is, it can’t be any different, and so I accept it.
I accept all the truth of this stage I’m in, that it is beautiful and exciting and hopeful at times and also it is so different and sad. This is by far the most difficult part: I’m not living with my youngest, in his very last year before leaving the nest.
It wasn’t going to be like this; we initially planned to live together as a divorced couple through this final senior year. God, we were the most chill about-to-be-dissolved people for a while, it was like the heavy decision had been lifted and we could just be friendly and even joke about it. Oh, did I leave the kitchen cabinet open again or did he leave his clunky Hokas in my way, well no biggie we’re about to be splittsville pal so any sort of marital nuisances are officially temporary. But then came mediation, and it was awful, it made living together a no-can-do much faster than I had anticipated and so the separation had to happen. There was no scenario that made sense for me to stay in the family home, or for us to sell and both move, what with his big custom built shop. The only way to separate was for me to leave, and so that is what I had to do.
And now I have my own home, I am rebuilding my own life, and I am doing everything I can to make this a welcoming home for my boys as well. We have new routines and fun things: movies in the kitten playground/living room, dinners at favorite restaurants, stops at Dari Mart for strawberry cake and Alani drinks. We’re creating new traditions and routines. It’s been a hell of a lot of change in a short amount of time but we are carving out our new ways.
The worst part about divorcing with kids is that you want so badly to preserve what was for them, hold that good family unit together, protect them from the dissolving load-bearing walls — and you can’t. You just can’t.
It can’t be any different.
And so there is nothing left but acceptance, and the love that helps build anew.
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