The Good Year in Review

So what have I done this past year, that's good?

I have found out that I have a lot of true friends. I have people that will ask, "What can I do?" And then they will step up and do that thing. I LOVE my community. I also feel a small twinge of schadenfreude at the things other people are saying about Mr. Gone. I am trying to move beyond that to a better place, but still, it makes me feel loved, supported, and that I don't have some insane personal perspective, that what he did was WRONG.

I have started on my new career path. Balancing work/school/parenting is tricky, but I did the whole thing: GRE, essays, applications, financial aid. And I did it all myself. Not much help from anyone. I got into one of the most exclusive schools in the country! That's saying something. Of course, I'm going to the state school instead because exclusive = expensive.

I have cut my hair really short, let the coloring grow out, gotten new hip glasses. My hair is salt and pepper grey now, actually kind of cool looking. Ten years ago it was mousy brown. Now it's very dark with grey streaks. I look older, but I've always looked very young and am finally looking like a grownup.

I'm enjoying eating what I want to eat without catering to the whims of someone who was, looking back, really kind of picky. We can have mac n' cheese for dinner! The bizarre list of things he wouldn't eat included cheddar cheese, fresh tomatoes, cucumbers, salad, anything "vegetarian" or "healthy", egg things like quiche or souffle, melon of any sort . . . yeah, he was meat and potatoes all the way. Cooking has been simplified so much.

I'm watching my kids step up and grow up. Sometimes I've lost it with them, I'm short on patience. But they are really trying to do what they can to help, when I'm not here to start dinner, when things need to be cleaned up, laundry put away . . . and I'm also finding more fun times with them. Used to be I was the homework and chores parent and Mr. Gone was the fun parent. He now gets to be mostly disneyland dad due to the visitation schedule, but I'm trying to make sure that I get to do fun things with them too.

And I'm finding strength, ability, and resources to fix up things around here that need fixing up, and prioritize and get household repairs done without having to wait, go through a long conversation with another adult with different opinions about what's a priority (ya know, water in its many forms is always a priority!) and adjust expectations. I fixed two cracked windows (lots more to go), and am reglazing the whole darn house! I'm learning drywall! I can flux a pipe! I feel like Rosie the Riveter, only my guy is not coming home from the war.

Things are better than I thought they would be. I still wish for a time machine to go one, two, three years back and fix the cracks in the marriage. But honestly, they were not cracks I could have fixed; they were mostly defects in Mr. Gone's character and personality. I'm still not OK. But I'm going to be.

Love Letters

Sorting through old photos and cards last night and today. I have a whole stack of pictures of big happy family, and no sign in his face that he was ready to bolt. The love letters are more interesting: gushing or thoughtful early on and through the first few years of marriage, then minimal or absent after baby #1 arrived, usually a storebought card with a few words scribbled.

I think he couldn't handle being a dad.

He's Disneyland Dad now but it spares him the burden of having conversations with them when they're mesmerized by electrons.

I pulled out a bunch of photos for him. Too many baby pictures of everyone anyway; I kept the best (hey, I'm the family photographer and I'm doing the scut work here) and gave him the ones with him and the duplicates.

I'm considering what to do with the love letters. Every other breakup I've given them back.

I could
1) Shred them and recycle
2) Give them back now
3) Give them back when papers are served or the divorce is final
4) Burn them (maybe a New Year's Eve bonfire?)

He told me he loved me. In writing. Repeatedly. And that he'd love me forever. That he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me.

Doing better, and moving on.

Having Fun as a Single Parent

Took the older two to an outdoor concert with fireworks last night, since I didn't have them for 4th of July and they haven't seen fireworks this summer at all. In some ways it's easier to not have to negotiate around someone else's schedule. I don't have to find a weekend that he's here, or a weekend that he's not working, or worry if I buy tickets and make plans that he'll suddenly be called away. And when I'd organize a family outing, I would always feel like I was being judged. I hadn't organized enough, or the concert/movie/restaurant wasn't that good, and somehow it was my fault for picking it out. Single parenting makes it a little easier. Only one schedule to deal with -- my own. And when the kids whine about an outing, I can tell them to suck it up. At this point money is tight enough that there are fewer outings and they're more grateful.

The man who left me really checked out mentally on family life a long time ago. He showed up occasionally as the cardboard cutout of Dad to stick in the back of the pictures. 

My oldest son was thrilled with the concert (movie music, including Harry Potter and Star Wars). He said it was like 4th of July only with music he LIKED. Middle son had a major bloody wipeout running around in the dark and slipping, and didn't have a meltdown. I introduced them to BLTs, which were an instant hit. They didn't whine when I told them no ice cream.  And they both said thanks for taking us to the concert, hugged me and told me I was a great mom. Not bad for edgy tweens.

I have great kids.

Cleaning House

Spent some time in the Scary Basement today. There are still boxes of his stuff, water-damaged and rodent-nibbled. I've started moving them all to a corner and piling them up, and will eventually give him an ultimatum to move it or lose it. Very sad that he has all these "precious things" that he threw down there when we bought the house and hasn't looked at in over a dozen years. I'm enjoying opening up the space down there, getting rid of the dust and a few mummified rodent corpses. Gross and disgusting but I'm getting rid of all that bad karma. Plus all the mildewy boxes for every electronic we've ever bought. Seriously, the Wii is now over two years old, out of warranty and we are not going to need that box again. And if we do, too bad. I'd rather have the open space; it's really therapeutic.

Another Blessings Day

A little empty today without kids, but kid-free has allowed me to
1) Go aggressive yard saling including a giant secondhand sale at our local hospital. Found b-day gifts for S2, swim trunks for S1 and S2, girly pink and green coffee mugs for me, gorgeous blue glass vase and a huge bag of clothes that will jazz up my summer wardrobe.
2) Sit in quiet.
3) Catch up on me time
4) Garden without having to nag or entertain s1, 2 or 3.

I've run into two friends in the past few days who have told me I look great, and didn't know about being dumped. Having a little time to take care of myself is showing, I guess. Still tears at times but I'm moving on with my life.

Saw a lawyer yesterday, but that's another post.

Stability

Slowly getting used to this new normal. Part time working, aggressive home maintenance/improvement and decluttering in prep for roommate or sale, and having to be vigilantly organized. Definitely on a short fuse and not getting enough sleep. I know I have to take care of myself but there are just not enough hours in the day for sleep, housecleaning, chasing after kids, and all that needs to be done. I'm letting go of a lot; the bathroom does not have to be spotless and the meals do not have to be gourmet. I will not just survive, I will thrive and make things good for myself and my kids.

Making Lemonade

I'm trying to put together a list of the good things to come out of this. Here's some of the lemonade from lemons.
1) No more expecting someone else to do dishes/laundry/grocery shopping and being disappointed.
2) No more episodes of sudden rage triggered by little tiny unexpected things.
3) Better control over the family diet, fewer trips out for burgers, fries, and unhealthy crap.
The man I loved is lost to me, and a stranger has taken his place. I mourn the death of my husband and must exist with the reality of a person in his body, with his name, but not him.