There are certain dates that seem to stay with us.
Dates that give some sort of meaning to parts of our life.
Days that change our lives-for better or for worse.
The day we are born.
The day our children are born.
The day loved ones die.
The days we are given bad information.
The day we are told our marriage is ending.
That day came for me.
My husband and I were alone in our house.
Our youngest son, who still lived at home, had gone to hang out with his two older
brothers at the house they both shared together about 30-40 minutes away.
Something my Mama heart was excited about for him.
He had voiced to me how happy he was that they had asked him to come over.
Unknown to me, this was part of a plan my husband had put in place to get our son out
of the house so he could be alone with me.
Something that to this day puts a sting in my heart.
I was sitting on the couch and my husband came in and sat down and kept clearing his
throat.
Something I have learned over the past 27 plus years is his precursor to talking to me.
He told me we needed to talk.
Something felt ominous.
I was worried.
I asked him if everything was ok.
Was everyone alright?
My in-laws were both in their 80’s and in frail health of sorts so my first thought was for
them.
Were they ok?
He said yes.
I could tell by his demeanor that something very important was about to be said.
Something told me whatever he was about to say was going to change my world.
It was one of those moments you see in movies that happen quickly yet in slow motion.
He told me that he was divorcing me.
He told me he wanted to find happiness while he still had some time left.
No, No, No my heart shouted within me.
Everything felt loud and quiet at the same time.
This can’t be happening.
Tears fell and words spilled out that I can’t remember.
I’m not actually sure if they were complete words or partial mumbling.
After a few minutes passed I remember telling him he couldn’t do this to our family.
Not a divorce. Our boys deserved better.
I told him he would regret tearing our family apart and he couldn’t possibly want to do
this. Not after all this time of being a family.
He looked at me and said “ok”.
I said “Just wait until we tell our boys”.
He looked at me and said “ok” again.
I told him that our boys were not going to let him destroy our family or do this to me.
He continued to look at me with a glazed look in his eyes and said “ok”.
I was confused.
Why was he so calm and unaffected when I told him we needed to call our boys and
get them over to the house right now and talk as a family.
Why wasn’t he worried about shattering their world?
Something felt off.
Was it just that he had conditioned himself for this moment?
As an avid reader I had read many times about people who had faced the despair of
divorce.
I hated divorce.
I never knew a good divorce.
Ever.
And I knew plenty of divorced people.
No matter how bad the marriage problems were-the divorce always brought terrible
suffering for the families that endured forever.
It was why no matter what happened in my marriage I had conditioned myself to
accept that marriage was forever.
I was filled with grief and shock and feelings of loss.
All of these emotions were rolling off my tongue in unintelligible words.
He was like a zombie.
A divorce zombie.
Nothing I said touched him.
I picked up my cell phone and called my oldest son and in between sobs told him I
needed him and his brothers to come to the house.
He told me they were on their way…