Monthly Archives: August 2010

9 lives

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When they split they each had weak moments of seeking revenge. She hauled his remaining things to their apartment dumpster-vacum sealed newspapers, old record albums, an album he had made of their relationship – with dried flowers, cards he had given her, pictures and other things that proved he was always  the sentimental one. She held that dusty album for a moment in her hands and then lobbed it over the fence of their property watching it shatter down the hill on the other side. These things had driven her nuts for years – the crazy making clutter of a pack rat while she  was a thrower.

Through their 17 years together, he had wanted a cat-she hated them and her dad was allergic to them. Mere days after they split, he took their boys out and returned them with a “gift”. The boys begged and pleaded to keep the kitten which they already adored ; “it is for you too, mommy” they squealed.  She knew that she could not disappoint them after the sadness they had just recently endured of their parents splitting up. She took her ex aside and said that in no uncertain terms the cat would not stay indefinitely. That in short time the cat would be moving to HIS house.

One night a few years later when she was having her soon to be 2nd husband over for the first sleepover,  all things were perfect, romantic, no three little boys at home and love, that kind of love, back in the home.

The next morning the man went out to jump in his car to find that the same cat, sent by her ex years earlier to exact revenge, had scratched the entire soft  top of  his convertible.

Life is like a cupcake is my other new blog post- click here to take a look

I used to live alone but now I am divorced

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When you are unhappily married the loneliness is unmistakable. It creeps and creeps so quietly over time like a cruel and unrelenting force  in your house. The woman may slide into bed so quickly and feign sleep upon hearing his car  on the driveway; the man may drive around in circles trying to avoid going home. He may book evening dentist appointments, stay late at the office to file (now there’s a metaphor), may take up mixed doubles squash (now don’t get crazy – sometimes squash is just squash), offer to help friends move or stay at Home depot till close every chance he gets. She may get busy with Book Club, take clients everywhere they need to go in the evenings,  book time  in the evening with a personal trainer, go to  night school, volunteer to be a Girl Guide leader (now don’t get crazy, sometimes when people call your wife “Rainbow” in the streets-that is her Sparks’ name, she has not become a stripper). She may cut her hair, shed some weight, run a marathon. He may find Buddha,  Betty or take up bowling.

Living alone as a married person is the loneliest of states. You cannot tell anyone you are lonely  and all the world thinks you are not. You rumble around the house when the two of you are there, bumping into each other, sucking the oxygen out of the rooms you share. You lie stiff in bed unable to meet in the middle on anything.

Sometimes you will go to someone’s house and the children will tell you “and this is Daddy’s room” and it will be in the basement where it is cold and dark. Every house has its secrets.

No one wants to make the first move. Years and years of disappointments and  normalizing cruelty or just plain and simple ignoring of the other’s needs or interests. One side feels underserved and pulls back, the other feels that pull and the cycle continues.

Where are those people who were here first? Before the house, the children, the dog, the beautiful stuff,  the memories, the habits, the reactions. Remember the double futon you used to share and it was too big because you slept touching so closely ?

Now that King with the deluxe mattress, half a dozen pillows, deep duvet, all  so comfortable yet so crowded.

Read “How To Be Alone”- my other blog post by clicking here

there is an intruder

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Now that I am so good at being transparent with dating, I got picked up at home and went out for  dinner with a friend. My children were in exams at the time- so I said -please clean up the kitchen, do your studying and take showers and I should be home before 10:00.

I came home and knocked on the door because I realized I did not take a key. I knocked vigorously because I knew the air was on and they might not hear me. I saw my 13 year old run by the door and upstairs. I knocked again really hard. Then I got the very hidden key and opened the door. I called to them but no one responded. I thought they must be pretending to be asleep. I then proceeded to clean the kitchen-not too happy that they had forgotten to do this. I went on my computer and then heard my cell phone ring.

It was my daughter’s friend panicked in her signature  loud voice  saying that my daughter just facebooked  her “from upstairs and said there is an intruder in the house.She said you are on a date and you must return home immediately and call the police”.

I said “I have been home for 15 minutes”

My children heard me now on my cell phone and came downstairs, shaking with relief.

Who needs cable when teenage daughters offer so much drama?

Denial ain’t just a river in Egypt-check out my other new  blog post on denial