two years later

Yesterday I took my kids to donuts. I went to my aerobics class. I dealt with a huge limb that broke off my tree. And then I remembered. It took me a good 3 or 4 hours after waking up to remember. I hope that shows progress of some sorts.

But as I was standing by my mailbox surveying the damage the downed tree had done, I remembered that it was Aug. 25 and remembered what that mailbox brought two years earlier.

Final divorce papers.

Those papers that signified that the person I loved the very most in the world would give up everything in his life as he knew it--a large portion of his income, his home and furniture, ownership in his business, his vehicle, and sadly even the joy of tucking his kids in at night, watching them on Christmas morning, or hearing about their days over dinner. None of that was more important to him than getting away from me. Than getting to start some new, percievedly more exciting life washed free of that facade he'd worn for so long.

I knew the papers would be coming some time during that week two years ago. We'd already been separated nearly 5 months, so I thought I would be ok with the final ending. But as my hands grasped that manila envelope and slid it out of that mailbox, I wasn't ok. It was addressed to Jennifer Peterson. That name that I had so happily taken on and become so proud of. Then inside, to his see his signature agreeing that a mere 15% custody was fine with him. I'm glad we didn't fight or battle things out in court, I was just surprised that it all ended so quickly and quietly.

I dropped to my knees right there in the gutter, unable to breath or think or do anything but cry. It was so not the turn I'd expected my life to take. It wasn't what I wanted for myself or my children. I was terrified in every way. I'd tried soooo hard to save my marriage...and lost. And now I had the papers to prove it.

So here I am, two years later. On my worst days: Angry. Teary. Scared. Stagnant. Unsure. Damaged to a point where I wonder if there's enough of the old me to salvage.

On my better days, which I think are most: Funny. Thankful. Smart. Courageous. Kind. Helpful. Creative. Aware of my blessings. Wishing that things could be different, but embracing all I still have.

I used to think that getting married again would be the thing that brought this journey of divorce to an end. But now I realize it's never really going to end, not by a certain gesture or action, anyway. And I certainly don't want to jump into a second marriage that would put me in a worse place than where I was just so I won't have to carry all the emotional pain and worldly work alone. My heart still yearns for love. For a companion. For someone to keep my toes warm. Someone to cook for. Laugh with. Counsel with. Work with. I've been blessed to be "courted" by some really fabulous men along the way and may just be persuaded to take one of them up on their offer....one day....when God tells me it's right.

I guess the thing I'm most aware of and grateful for at the end of this two years is that even though my husband is gone--in more ways than one--he left the best pieces of himself behind: My amazingly wonderful, happy, talented, delightful boys. And they do a mending heart all the good in the world.