Sunday Newscape Magazine

It’s been a year. Well, over a year now. A year and two weeks to be exact. A year since the metaphorical rug that once was my life was pulled out from under me, and I landed flat on my ass. The thud of that landing could be heard around the world...it was deafening. I haven’t written a whole lot in the past year. I still don’t know why that is, since I love to write.

Hiding is not the right action. I love to write. I need to write. Let me just give the warning now: My writing is brash, sometimes hostile, and often bitter. It is also witty, reliable, unrelentingly honest, and completely me. Oh. And intelligent. Did I mention that?

Back to that metaphorical carpet that landed me on my butt. Yep. One year since my ex husband left. Yes, EX husband. The divorce was final about a month ago. I am now officially a free woman. I celebrated my own Independence Day this year. It was awesome.

This article will be a little (okay, a LOT) unorganized and chaotic. I have a lot of thoughts that are pushing to get out. I could write a five page article…but I won’t. You’re welcome. I’d like to write about the most important part of my life right now: My children.

I wish I could say my girls have come out of this experience unscathed. I can’t. I am not the only one still dealing with the anger of the last year. Unfortunately, my oldest daughter is carrying around a lot of anger and pain. As her mother, this kills me. How do I know my girl is still hurting? We will be watching TV, and I’ll look across the room at her, and she will be watching me, not the TV, with a raw look of hurt on her face. Other times I notice it when I pick the girls up from their father’s. I’ll catch my girl’s eyes in the rearview mirror, and there is such an open look of hostility on her face it leaves me breathless.

At those moments, I wonder what I have done to earn that hostility. She is always the angriest with me after a visit from her father. Does she blame me? Does she wonder if I didn’t try hard enough? Does she question what I could have done differently? Does she think I gave up on us too soon? These are all questions that used to plague me as well. They don’t anymore, and someday I’ll be able to explain to her about choices. I’ll be able to tell her that we can’t force people to love us. I’ll be able to tell her that I have forgiven myself for the mess I made of my marriage. I just hope my children can someday forgive me too.

Surprised to hear me say that? I’m not completely blameless for the demise of my marriage. I could have been a better wife, I’m sure. I got caught up in my children, as a lot of women do. Day to day life was difficult. I was seriously depressed, and I’m sure, no picnic to live with. I could be very mean as well. I said a lot of things I regret. One thing I won’t do is pretend I’m faultless. However, I was true. I was honest. I knew how bad it was, but I believed in my vows.

I still believe in marriage vows, believe they are for life. Mine wasn’t an ugly marriage; there was no fighting, no yelling or screaming, and no name calling. I didn’t think I was unhappy. I just knew I wasn’t happy either. But I did love my ex husband. I just don’t think I did a very good job of showing it.

Life is all about the mistakes we make and the lessons we take from those mistakes. And I have been schooled this year. Mistake upon mistake I have made. The awesome thing about mistakes though, is the way we learn from them. I have learned to not take people for granted. I have learned that words do hurt, a lot. I have learned to not play games with people’s hearts. I have learned to respect the word “love” and the feelings it invokes…and that it is not a word to be thrown around lightly. I have learned a new meaning of the word commitment, about the word in relationship to myself, and that not everyone believes in commitment. I do. Deeply. I have also learned about friendship and loyalty, and that the two words do not always go hand in hand…for others. For me, they are one and the same.

So when I next glance at my daughter, and I see the blame that laces throughout her eyes, the rigid set of anger in her jaw as she glares defiantly at me, I’ll remember these lessons I’ve learned. When I next feel my patience begin to fade as she questions me about things I cannot answer honestly, I’ll think of how she will one day have full understanding of what happened. I will no longer have to protect what little sense of security she feels in her father because she will know that I will never leave. The questions she has will finally be answered, and I will no longer have to answer her, “You will understand when you are older.” Because one day she will understand. And when she does, I’ll be there, as always. I’m not going anywhere. This is the greatest lesson I’ve learned, and the one I hope to impart on both my children…True love doesn’t leave, ever. It endures.