Wrapping up (almost)

My former husband (who in all future attribution will be referred to as MFH) and I were able to reach a mutual understanding of how the assets accumulated during out marriage are to be distributed and have stipulated to what and how we will each provide for our children. We have signed the documents required and the motion was filed in court earlier last week. It only awaits for the judge assigned to our case to issue the final decree in the not too distant future.

Probably every divorced person knew why and what it was about the living conditions that made it feel necessary to seek a legal dissolution of a contract signed with so much optimism earlier. The behaviors, unknowns, or lack of connection that make it hard to find much inner peace when your significant other is around. (No need to run on there.)

I am discovering a new reserve of grit because I don't have any choice. MFH, in leaving, left me property and house projects large and small, some mid-way, some left to deteriorate more, lots of chaos to tame and make sane. It's a lengthy to do list and I've making some new acquaintances in the tradespeople who have employed their talents to help mend and put things to rights.

I'm clearly in over my head when it comes to the yard. I'm resisting using chemicals on the grass (and it shows) and I'm no grounds genius like MFH but my son, under duress, will do a respectable job with the new and easy to use lawn mover I bought (thank you for the advent of battery operated machines and the end to mixing gas and oil and pulling the choke!!!). With a the support of family, friends, my boss and neighbors, I'm keeping a roof over our head and the taxes paid and grateful beyond measure that life continues to carry us forward in its grace.

Let's hope for the best for all involved (and this includes MFH) and for happier days ahead.

Life

 

I'm laying in bed listening to the happy voices of my daughter and her friends assembled in the kitchen. The steady babble interspersed with my daughter's laughter makes me smile. She is an infectious ray of happiness on her special day and it's lovely to lay quietly and listen to the hubbub downstairs.  I can't detach myself from this personal accounting phase. Contemplating my divorce and the approach of my 65th Birthday as my middle child attains this milestone with glee and anticipation.
On these days you savor what you helped make possible and cut yourself a break on what failed. There's just no other way to look at it.

Spending the Weekend with a New Man (courtesy of Amazon)

I've fallen in to the well of on-demand television, and Season 3 of Bosch has been a delicious distraction. Titus Welliver as Bosch is fantastic and the whole ensemble is great. I'm probably better off in the fictional realm for now. I'm a little busy trying to figure out the rest of my life.

My own little Madoff

I'm watching HBO's dark and compelling film, The Wizard of Lies, about Bernie Madoff. It staggers the mind to consider all the innocent people who entrusted him with their money and how they suffered because of his willful disregard for their well being.

And then it hit me. I was married to my own little "Madoff". A genial man who presented so well and yet, at the end of the day, was primarily concerned with his own needs at the expense of his family.

So I reflect on my losses and how we all suffered. It comforts me to realize that we will survive the nuttiness of recent events and if we are broken, we will mend stronger in the end.

Perspective is everything.

Why do we care?

I can devour a copy of People magazine like any other fan of the "celebrities" among us but sometimes the concept of "content" gets stretched beyond the point of credibility. With all the nuttiness going on in Washington and points beyond our borders, why would anyone care about the quality of Jennifer Aniston's slumber?

If only this article addressed something of true importance, like what kind of mascara she wears. (Do we really think she wears Almay because she's paid to endorse it on tv?) That this passed the litmus test of something worth sharing boggles the mind.