About a month and a half ago, I received a notice “in the mail.” It was from my husband’s lawyer. My husband had filed for divorce. We had recently celebrated our twenty-fifth anniversary. To say it was a shock is the understatement of all times. I had no idea, none, that he was unhappy or discontent. He was away on a business trip, and I had expected him to come home by the end of the week. He hadn’t contacted me since he left four days ago, which wasn’t unusual. He traveled quite often. He didn’t always know exactly when he would be getting home.
I called him on his cell phone. He didn’t pick up. There was a message saying he would be unavailable for the next several weeks. Leave your number, and he will get in touch with you.
I slowly placed the phone back, I had an impulse to slam it down hard, but I didn’t since I could already feel the beginnings of a migraine headache in the top of my head. I felt a tear run down my cheek, followed by an avalanche of tears that followed it.
I sat there frozen in place, unable to think clearly. It felt like the end of the world to me. I could not comprehend that my husband, whom I loved dearly, did not love me anymore and wanted a divorce. This is the man I had intended on spending the rest of my life all the way to our golden years.
I kept going over in my head everything that had happened between us recently. I couldn’t think of a single word or event that would have given me some warning that Howard was discontent or unhappy in our life together. But, obviously, he was, and somehow I had remained blissfully unaware of his feelings and his intentions.
It just blew my mind. And even on the evening of our twenty-fifth-anniversary party, he never let on. It almost feels as if I’m living in some alternate reality. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do next. Do I get a lawyer, should I ask my husband if he’s willing to see a marriage counselor? I don’t know. I talked to several of my woman friends who have experienced divorce, and they all gave me the name and number of the divorce lawyers they had used. Sally, my best friend, cried along with me. And told me she would be with me every step of the way. And she was. What would we do without our woman friends?
My husband’s lawyer and my lawyer scheduled a meeting for us all to get together and discuss the details of our divorce. Who gets what etc., etc. It was brutal. My husband sat across from me and never looked me in the face. It was like he was negotiating one of his real estate contracts with a total stranger. His face was without expression, and he never made eye contact with me. He looked through me as if I was invisible to him. I was having a difficult time paying attention to what was being said. I hoped my lawyer was doing his job because I felt like I was in some other dimension.
The next thing I knew, my lawyer touched my shoulder and said, “These are the papers you have to sign. You keep the house, and the two of you will evenly divide the investments and any monies that remain in your joint bank accounts.” I stared at him and shook my head up and down a couple of times. And then he shoved the contracts in front of me and held a pen up in front of my face. Since I wasn’t reacting to what he just stated. I took the pen, and my lawyer pointed at the decree and said,” Sign, here, here, and here. It’s final. We can be on our way.”
My husband got up from his seat, shook his lawyer’s right hand, and then turned and left the room without a word said to me at all. It was almost as if I didn’t exist in his reality anymore. And I guess I didn’t. It was surreal. I tried to take it all in. I guess it was going to take a long time for me to accept my new reality, even if that reality was a complete and unbelievable nightmare.
After we had signed all the papers, the lawyers shook each other’s hands. I stood up and immediately felt dizzy. I sat down again, and my lawyer gave me a glass of water to drink. He said, “This is a difficult experience. Many people have a negative reaction to divorce. I promise you that in time you will adapt to this change. You know how to contact me if you need to for any reason.” He shook my hand, and I think I shook his as well, but I couldn’t sware to it. I felt lightheaded. I slowly rose from the table, picked up my purse, and headed out the door and into the foyer. I didn’t even bother to look back at my husband, I mean, my former husband. I didn’t know how I would take my next breath, let alone continue on with my life like nothing happened. When I couldn’t think of a single reason to keep breathing or living. I somehow made it home safely. I don’t know how. I don’t even remember driving home.
But, one good thing did happen I decided that I was going to get a dog as soon as possible. I couldn’t bear the idea of living alone. I wasn’t ready to think about selling my house. But, it was in there at the back of my mind. Selling the house I had lived in for the past twenty years with my “husband.” And starting over, somewhere new. I had always wanted a dog. But, my husband said, “What for?” Unfortunately, we were never able to have children, and doctors were never able to diagnose the fertility problem. It just never happened for us. He didn’t want any part of adopting. And he even rejected getting a dog.
So here I am at the husk of a new life. Where I alone determine what is right for me, it has given me hope that, under my own power will make myself happy and eventually content. I will bring myself to my ultimate goal. And that is happiness and contentment. Is this too much to ask, you may say? “No, no, it is not.”
After weeks of vacillating about what I should do to turn my life around, I finally made the decision to hire a realtor and sell the house. I no longer considered it to be “my” house. It was just “a house.”
At this point, I wanted a complete change of scenery. And the night I woke up from a dream and realized that what I wanted to do was buy a house on the beach and get a dog. And spend the rest of my days in a warm climate walking my dog or perhaps dogs on the beach. At some point, I would have to find a job to help pay the bills. But, not right away, I wanted to have to accustom myself to the new home and perhaps make a friend or two.
As soon as I found “my” house, I would get myself a dog. And then my new life would begin. In the next three weeks, I spent all my time going from one house to another with my realtor, looking for that perfect home. About three weeks in, my realtor took me to a two-story home in Wildwood, NJ. And I immediately fell in love with it. I realized that it was big enough that I could rent part of the house out to make some extra money and still have plenty of room. I would live on the lower floor. Once I went to the settlement, I started hitting the local shops looking for furniture and everything else I would need. And within a month, I thought it was absolutely perfect.
The following week I took a trip to the local pound to get a puppy. There were quite a few dogs to choose from. But once I saw the little ball of fluff, I knew I had found my dog. The woman who worked at the animal shelter told me that he was actually a grown dog and he wouldn’t get any bigger. He was a must, but she wasn’t sure what kind of mix he was. As soon as I met him, I fell in love. And I knew he was the dog for me. I took him home that day. I named him Buddy because he had quickly become my best buddy. It took him a few days to become accustomed to my house. But, soon enough, he felt at home. Oh, and he absolutely loved walking on the beach and letting the waves wash over his feet at the shoreline. We were a match made in heaven.
Every day we started the day with a walk to the beach and back, and then we had a light breakfast. I had fenced in the backyard and put a doggy door in the kitchen door so he could go out back to the yard when he needed to relieve himself. He soon befriended our neighbors, who all turned out to be friendly, but not too friendly, if you know what I mean.
As a matter of fact, I began to make friends with some of my neighbors who had befriended Buddy. I started planting a garden in the front yard. And my neighbors came over to admire my handiwork. Some of them even asked me for gardening advice. I was happy to advise them, although I informed them that I, too, was a novice gardener and just learning myself.
Before I knew it, I had been living there for six months. And I couldn’t remember a time when I had felt more content and relaxed. In my free time, I decided to start writing some short stories about what was going on in my local area. And one of my neighbors suggested I send some of my stories to the local newspaper. Believe it or not, the paper said they would pay me to write stories about what was going on in the local area. And I was a little reluctant at first, but then I thought, “Why not?”
And so, now I am a paid writer for the local newspaper. I’m not making a lot of money, but every bit helps. Who knows what I will do next? The skies are the limit. I am quite content living in my house with my Buddy and so happy to live in a neighborhood where people care about one another. So, I guess my divorce wasn’t all bad. And who knows what good things are coming my way? I look forward to the future and what it will bring.
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