Sometime late in 1998, we were sitting on the bar patio at the restaurant where we all worked.. Many brilliant ideas came to life on that patio, and that night a friend thought we should do something cool together to celebrate the year clicking over from 1999 to 2000. She suggested going on a Caribbean cruise as a group. Of course we were all living on waiting-tables-wages, so it took a while to talk us into it, but eventually we had a large group signed up.
Along with several couples, there were three single guys going - Bill, Scott and myself. We were good friends and planned to share a room on the ship. In the summer of 1999, I met J and Scott met someone as well, so Bill ended up in a room by himself. He was the one single guy along with eight couples on the cruise - the 17th wheel.
We were all great friends, so the trip was a week long party where you mingle among the crowd, spending time with everyone. But of course there were still couples at the end of the day, and I know that Bill felt like the odd man out at times, no matter how much time we spent together as a group.
And it feels a bit like that for me right now. Nearly all my friends are either married or in a relationship. This is true both in Washington and here in California. Now don't get me wrong, this is not a plea to be included more often. Everyone has been very welcoming, inviting me over to dinner or to larger parties (I was invited out tonight in fact). None of my friends have made it an issue or made me feel like a second class citizen for being unattached.
But still, there are couple moments where I am the odd man out. Like last year when we were walking around town under the changing leaves of autumn. A friend said, "let's take pictures for all our Christmas cards!" Of course, I would not be sending out a photo Christmas card, so I just quietly stepped back. Another friend pulled me into a group photo, a sensitive gesture to include me, but at that point it was just awkward.
I am not looking to replace my group of friends, and I still love (love!) spending time with my married peeps, but it would be healthy to expand the circle a bit to include some new, single faces. Not people I am hoping to date necessarily, just people who might share common interests or introduce me to new things. People that might be struggling along a similar path. Other single folks in a married world.
Quote of the day
"You can learn more from failure than success. In failure you're forced to find out what part did not work. But in success you can believe everything you did was great, when in fact some parts may not have worked at all. Failure forces you to face reality."
~ Fred Brooks
9/11
Let me preface this with, I do not begin to say that my experience on 9/11/01 compares in any way to the tragedy that so many people experienced personally. But of course the day touched us all in one way or another. I have written a more detailed recounting of the day elsewhere, but as a small recap for those who don't know the story...
My wife and I were married on 9/9/01. We spent the following morning at a brunch with our family and some of the wedding party. We boarded a red-eye flight on the evening of the 10th/morning of the 11th that would take us to Jamaica for our honeymoon. We made our connection in Dallas/Fort Worth and hopped on the next leg of our journey headed for Miami. We were in the air between Dallas and Miami when the destruction of 9/11 was going on. Once we landed in Miami, no planes would leave the ground for several days. Our honeymoon canceled, and a tropical storm headed toward Florida, we ended up renting a car and driving from Miami back to Seattle, from one corner of the U.S to another.
The world had changed in an instant, and it was a somber drive home. We listened to the radio and read the newspapers as we drove, trying to put together what had happened. Everyone else we loved was thousands of miles away, and the people we saw along the way had the vacant stare of the traumatized. At the time, I joked that if we could survive this drive across the country together, that our marriage would be alright. The beach would have just made us soft. But I wonder what effect that day, and that week, had on the early part of our marriage. As I wrote in the earlier post:
9/11 cut a horrific hole in our country, ramifications of which we are still feeling. I am not so foolish as to say that it was much of a factor in our divorce, but I think it may have been one of the hundreds of bricks in the wall that was built up between us.
My wife and I were married on 9/9/01. We spent the following morning at a brunch with our family and some of the wedding party. We boarded a red-eye flight on the evening of the 10th/morning of the 11th that would take us to Jamaica for our honeymoon. We made our connection in Dallas/Fort Worth and hopped on the next leg of our journey headed for Miami. We were in the air between Dallas and Miami when the destruction of 9/11 was going on. Once we landed in Miami, no planes would leave the ground for several days. Our honeymoon canceled, and a tropical storm headed toward Florida, we ended up renting a car and driving from Miami back to Seattle, from one corner of the U.S to another.
The world had changed in an instant, and it was a somber drive home. We listened to the radio and read the newspapers as we drove, trying to put together what had happened. Everyone else we loved was thousands of miles away, and the people we saw along the way had the vacant stare of the traumatized. At the time, I joked that if we could survive this drive across the country together, that our marriage would be alright. The beach would have just made us soft. But I wonder what effect that day, and that week, had on the early part of our marriage. As I wrote in the earlier post:
We returned to Jamaica six months later. When we made it to our delayed honeymoon, I was the most depressed/out of sorts I have ever been. I’m not sure what all was weighing on me. 9/11 may have made me look at my life more closely. It may have been the jarring switch from the happiest week in my life to the worst for the country. Maybe it is the clearest manifestation of hatred I have ever seen. I’m not really sure. I haven’t put those feelings entirely behind me.Certainly, no one event took us down, and it was more about internal rather than external events, but it was a rough start to the marriage just the same. There was no honeymoon period, a time of excitement and great hope as we began our new life together. My heart was heavy when it should have been light, and I have no doubt that weighed on our marriage in our first year.
9/11 cut a horrific hole in our country, ramifications of which we are still feeling. I am not so foolish as to say that it was much of a factor in our divorce, but I think it may have been one of the hundreds of bricks in the wall that was built up between us.
How are you doing?
Right after I got sober (the first time), and interviewer asked me if I was happy, and I said, “Among other things.”
~ From Wishful Drinking by Carrie FisherSo, am I happy? 'Among other things' is a great answer.
Through reading, writing, counseling, talking with friends and family, and the simple passage of time, things are easier than they were. The load I carry may be a bit lighter these days, or it may just feel that way. Like a backpack that feels heavy when you hoist it on your back, but the weight passes out of your conscious thought as you busily scramble up the hillside. Only when you stop to rest (or someone points it out to you) do you feel that weight again.
The painful thoughts are always there in the background, but they come to the forefront less often. The feelings of loss, regret, guilt and anger can still catch me off guard and even make me weep, but the feeling isn't as overwhelming, and I have been better at accepting (if not embracing) it. There was a time where I felt that my emotions were running the show, but not anymore. However, I am doing my best to let them come out and play, rather than burying them down like I did before.
And of course it isn't all bad, even if most of what I write here is about my struggles. There are many beautiful things in my life, and there always has been. I am surrounded by loving family and friends, and I don't ever take that for granted. Though I am often alone, I know I don't have to be. I have my relative good health, and I enjoy challenging my body to do things that on the surface it would seem it isn't capable of.
But I have been sitting in that neutral zone described in my post on Transitions for some time now. The months I have been down in San Diego have not seemed all that productive on the surface, but I know healing and recovery have been taking place. Even so, the feeling of limbo is starting to get to me. I feel like I need to be moving forward in certain aspects of my life. Maybe this feeling of frustration is a sign of healing, and a signal that it is time to be making the first steps in that direction.
Though I have been moving in a bit of a fog during this neutral time, I will catch myself waking up to moments of clarity. Sometimes it is the brilliance of the ocean or Grand Canyon that brings me around, but I have also caught myself goofily smiling while walking across a parking lot, just taking in the sunshine. These are not moments of epiphany, but moments of presence. Moments of living instead of merely existing.
This day nine years ago was one of the best of my life, and every time it passes by on the calendar it will make me pause. Though the meaning will continue to change with all that has happened since then, the beauty of that day remains.
The struggle continues, as does my desire to delve deeper into things. Though I will never find all the answers, there is still value in the questioning. I continue to learn new things about myself as I tell my story, and I hope you find something useful as well (if only in what not to do).
Staying in contact
Remember not only to say the right thing in the right place, but, far more difficult still, to leave unsaid the wrong thing at the tempting moment.
~ Benjamin FranklinIt is an odd line we are walking. We haven't seen each other in person in almost a year, and the phone calls and e-mails are pretty infrequent. We really only contact each other when there is a topic that seems legitimate enough to break through that real or imagined barrier that has come between us.
But niether does it feel like we are entirely avoiding each other. We just seem to be keeping our distance as we try to put together a new life. I have no idea what is normal, or if there even is a normal. Even if you parted on friendly terms, how often do you touch base, if at all?
There is no venom when we do speak, just an awkward veil of pain and regret. For my part, I have never said those hurtful jabs that seem so clever and appropriate in the moment, but with time seem petty and hurtful. I have certainly made her aware of how I feel, even if I haven't passed along the descriptive details and metaphorical images. Making someone else hurt doesn't do much to lift you up, and for me it would only drag me down further.
But there are still the other connections that seem to bring our paths together and peel back the sheet we've hidden things beneath. Of course family and friends are the most significant crossroads. The last time I saw her mother, it was this awkward time I was staying at her house with friends for a bike ride. It was only a couple of weeks before J asked for a divorce. I am sure her mother knew what I did not (or did not want to face), and in retrospect it is even more painful than it was at the time.
Her mother accidentally dialed my number a few months ago. She hung up so quickly that the only thing missing was an exclamation of "Shit!" (but she doesn't swear). I don't begrudge her, and it didn't make me mad that she hung up so abruptly upon realizing her mistake. What would we talk about after all? It just made me sad, that this was one more level of discomfort surrounding our split. If her Mom and I committed to an hour over coffee, maybe we could have an honest discussion. But the benal small talk would have been painful for us both. At the same time, I have a feeling that she may check in to read my blogs from time to time. In some way that makes me glad, for at least there remains this tenuous connection that can bypass the awkwardness. It is one-sided and not a real conversation, but it is there, odd as it is.
Then there is the stupidity of Facebook. J and I are still "friends" in that realm, but unintentionally, updates in our own lives can make the other feel like crap. I had "hidden' her updates, because I didn't want to see posts pop up at random moments when I was unprepared to see them. But I didn't "unfriend" her, because I guess I wanted that same tenuous connection that these one-way conversations could provide. I stayed away from her page, but it was still there lurking for good or ill.
But even though her posts remained hidden, there was a recent misunderstanding online. A mutual friend posted something on her wall, and when that feed popped up, it led me to check out her page. What I read sent me into a tailspin as my mind filled in blanks the posts seemed to imply. Rather than stew on it, I reached out to her and spoke to her on the phone. It was an emotional conversation, but we cleared up any confusion the bits and bytes produced. It was one of the rare, unguarded conversations we have had in the past couple of years. Though there were tears on both ends of the line, it felt good to be speaking from the heart once more. Of course when we hung up, it left me feeling ever whistful over what we let die, and not surprisingly, we haven't figured out if we should "unfriend" each other.
We spoke a week later, and unfortunately the uncomfortable, awkward wall was back up, and it lead to a stilted conversation. A friend asked recently if I wanted to see J in person (everything in the past 10 months has been handled by phone or e-mail). I didn't have a confident answer, but with all that it would bring, I think I would still like to see her in person someday soon. I am sure that awkward wall would be there in the beginning, but I would hope that with time over cups of coffee we could let our guard down and really talk.
The money and paperwork issues that still tie us together are beginning to fall away. There will continue to be the random crossing of paths, but soon it will be only be our desire to make it happen that will keep us in contact. I don't know that we will ever have that conversation I imagined a year ago. Most of me believes I will never get the answers I seek, but another part of me wants that unguarded moment in the sun with a friend you haven't seen for years.
The mix tape
I recently finished Love is a Mix Tape: Life and Loss, One Song at a Time
by Rob Sheffield. The book is a memoir about the author's love of music, the courtship and marriage to his wife Renee, and the aftermath of her all-too-sudden death after five years of marriage. The author is a music critic, so music plays an even larger part of his life than most people. Like many of us, he has created mix tapes over the years. As he describes it:
Like the author, I made a bunch of mix tapes when I was younger. I still make the occasional mix, but of course the tape has been replaced by a an iPod playlist or burned CD. Some mixes were just a series of songs that grabbed me in the moment, while others had themes that tied the songs together. One tape was a bit of an autobiography, and I have also made mixes after each relationship breakup. I am almost ready to create one for my marriage to J.
Over the last year and a half, music has been one of those things that would sneak up on me when I wasn't looking, and could either make me feel wistful or knock me flat on the pavement. One low point was losing it in the frozen foods aisle of Safeway to a song playing on the Muzak. The song isn't even worth mentioning, but it hit me just right (or wrong) at the moment.
It sometimes amazes me how many songs there are that I have heard many times, but never really meant anything until my marriage was falling apart. I suppose it is like anything else - you don't notice details until you are looking for them. Like when you decide on a car you want to buy, and suddenly they are everywhere. And of course a love song means more when you are in love, a painful song when you are in pain. When I would either notice or be hit upside the head with a song, I would tuck it away for the future mix tape.
It seems there is a certain waiting period before I am ready to put it together, and a bit longer one until I am ready to pop it in the stereo. It seems like listening to these songs would be a recipe for misery. I can't exactly explain why it is important to make the mix tape, but it is. I guess there are times when I just want to open my arms wide and embrace the memories, and any pain that comes along with them. Maybe by choosing the moment, I feel more in control of when I am going to feel low. And maybe by listening to the songs in succession, they lose a bit of their power. Maybe I am less likely to be knocked sideways in the frozen food aisle.
Anyway, there are a couple of songs that will definitely be in the mix. Two of them seem to capture the dialogue (spoken and unspoken) between J and I as our marriage was ending. I would sing "More Time" by NeedtoBreathe, and she would respond with "Where I Stood" by Missy Higgins.
More Time
I promised you the world again
Everything within my hands
All the riches one could dream
They will come from me
I hoped that you could understand
That this is not what I had planned
Please don’t worry now
It will turn around
Cause I need more time
Just a few more months and we’ll be fine
So say what’s on your mind
Cause I can’t figure out just what’s inside
So say alright
Cause I know we can make it if we try
Cause I need more time
Just a few more months and we’ll be fine
We’re off to new lands
So hold on to my hands
It’s gonna be alright.
It’s a whole lot brighter
So stand by the fire
It’s gonna be alright.
Yeah, the road gets harder
But it’s not much farther
It’s gonna be alright.
You know that it ain’t easy
Please believe me
It’s gonna be alright.
Where I Stood
I don't know what I've done
Or if I like what I've begun
But something told me to run
And honey you know me it's all or none
There were sounds in my head
Little voices whispering
That I should go and this should end
Oh and I found myself listening
'Cos I dont know who I am, who I am without you
All I know is that I should
And I don't know if I could stand another hand upon you
All I know is that I should
'Cos she will love you more than I could
She who dares to stand where I stood
See I thought love was black and white
That it was wrong or it was right
But you ain't leaving without a fight
And I think I am just as torn inside
'Cos I dont know who I am, who I am without you
All I know is that I should
And I don't know if I could stand another hand upon you
All I know is that I should
'Cos she will love you more than I could
She who dares to stand where I stood
And I won't be far from where you are if ever you should call
You meant more to me than anyone I ever loved at all
But you taught me how to trust myself and so I say to you
This is what I have to do
by Rob Sheffield. The book is a memoir about the author's love of music, the courtship and marriage to his wife Renee, and the aftermath of her all-too-sudden death after five years of marriage. The author is a music critic, so music plays an even larger part of his life than most people. Like many of us, he has created mix tapes over the years. As he describes it:"I have built my entire life around loving music, and I surround myself with it. I’m always racing to catch up on my next favorite song. But I never stop playing my mixes. Every fan makes them. The times you lived through, the people you shared those times with – nothing brings it all to life like an old mix tape. It does a better job of storing up memories than actual brain tissue can do. Every mix tape tells a story. Put them together, and they add up to the story of a life."In the book, his mix tapes transport himself (and the reader) to certain times in his life. The songs on the mix tapes trigger memories and help him tell his story. The portions of the book after his wife died are particularly wrenching, as he comes to terms with his wife dying suddenly of a pulmonary embolism, and his experience as a widower when he is still in his early 30's. A song brought he and his wife together, and music was almost a third character in their relationship. The mix tapes keep him connected on an intimate level to his wife, and they are a place to store his memories.
Like the author, I made a bunch of mix tapes when I was younger. I still make the occasional mix, but of course the tape has been replaced by a an iPod playlist or burned CD. Some mixes were just a series of songs that grabbed me in the moment, while others had themes that tied the songs together. One tape was a bit of an autobiography, and I have also made mixes after each relationship breakup. I am almost ready to create one for my marriage to J.
Over the last year and a half, music has been one of those things that would sneak up on me when I wasn't looking, and could either make me feel wistful or knock me flat on the pavement. One low point was losing it in the frozen foods aisle of Safeway to a song playing on the Muzak. The song isn't even worth mentioning, but it hit me just right (or wrong) at the moment.
It sometimes amazes me how many songs there are that I have heard many times, but never really meant anything until my marriage was falling apart. I suppose it is like anything else - you don't notice details until you are looking for them. Like when you decide on a car you want to buy, and suddenly they are everywhere. And of course a love song means more when you are in love, a painful song when you are in pain. When I would either notice or be hit upside the head with a song, I would tuck it away for the future mix tape.
It seems there is a certain waiting period before I am ready to put it together, and a bit longer one until I am ready to pop it in the stereo. It seems like listening to these songs would be a recipe for misery. I can't exactly explain why it is important to make the mix tape, but it is. I guess there are times when I just want to open my arms wide and embrace the memories, and any pain that comes along with them. Maybe by choosing the moment, I feel more in control of when I am going to feel low. And maybe by listening to the songs in succession, they lose a bit of their power. Maybe I am less likely to be knocked sideways in the frozen food aisle.
Anyway, there are a couple of songs that will definitely be in the mix. Two of them seem to capture the dialogue (spoken and unspoken) between J and I as our marriage was ending. I would sing "More Time" by NeedtoBreathe, and she would respond with "Where I Stood" by Missy Higgins.
More Time
I promised you the world again
Everything within my hands
All the riches one could dream
They will come from me
I hoped that you could understand
That this is not what I had planned
Please don’t worry now
It will turn around
Cause I need more time
Just a few more months and we’ll be fine
So say what’s on your mind
Cause I can’t figure out just what’s inside
So say alright
Cause I know we can make it if we try
Cause I need more time
Just a few more months and we’ll be fine
We’re off to new lands
So hold on to my hands
It’s gonna be alright.
It’s a whole lot brighter
So stand by the fire
It’s gonna be alright.
Yeah, the road gets harder
But it’s not much farther
It’s gonna be alright.
You know that it ain’t easy
Please believe me
It’s gonna be alright.
Where I Stood
I don't know what I've done
Or if I like what I've begun
But something told me to run
And honey you know me it's all or none
There were sounds in my head
Little voices whispering
That I should go and this should end
Oh and I found myself listening
'Cos I dont know who I am, who I am without you
All I know is that I should
And I don't know if I could stand another hand upon you
All I know is that I should
'Cos she will love you more than I could
She who dares to stand where I stood
See I thought love was black and white
That it was wrong or it was right
But you ain't leaving without a fight
And I think I am just as torn inside
'Cos I dont know who I am, who I am without you
All I know is that I should
And I don't know if I could stand another hand upon you
All I know is that I should
'Cos she will love you more than I could
She who dares to stand where I stood
And I won't be far from where you are if ever you should call
You meant more to me than anyone I ever loved at all
But you taught me how to trust myself and so I say to you
This is what I have to do
Anger
"If hate were people, I'd be China!"
~ Phil, delivering the last line in an argument with his wife, from the movie City Slickers.
Some quotes resonate with you because they describe how you feel, so well, with such brevity. Others seem to grab me because they are comically absurd. The above one falls into the second category, but it still has some resonance when this mild-mannered character snaps.
The simplified, five step path through grief is often quoted. They are:
- Denial and Isolation
- Anger
- Bargaining
- Depression
- Acceptance
I am moving beyond just feeling ripped off and cheated, and some anger is starting to creep into my voice when I talk about the divorce. I am angry that she held back resentments and complaints for two years before bringing a few of them to light. I am frustrated that she told only part of the story, enough to feel like she was being open, but not enough to really explain anything.
I have come to the point where I still carry my share of blame and regret for the state of our marriage. But I am not willing to take the blame for the divorce anymore. I put my heart and mental health on the line to try and work things out with J. Nothing that came up seemed insurmountable. Quite frankly, nothing that came up seemed all that difficult to make right. But she seemed to think it was too late to work on our relationship or save our marriage. I did not give up, even after it was pretty clear that she had.
It is sometimes said that it is a thin line between love and hate. The truth behind the phrase is that the passion that once supported love, can now fuel the anger, leading to hate. But I am not even close to hating her, and I don't ever intend to cross that line. In all her hidden feelings, avoidance of conflict, and fumbling prolonging of the end, I believe part of it was out of love for me.
I don't feel much better having moved into the anger stage, but it does feel different. I've read anger can be a first step in gaining emotional distance from your former spouse. It is certainly just a piece of the puzzle and not the solution, but I am starting to believe that (appropriate) anger may be constructive. I suppose that in becoming angry about what has happened, rather than just being depressed or disheartened, you find a bit of strength and self-worth.
The feelings of anger are not particularly hot, and they do not linger. Still, it is a phase I don't want to spend much time in.
Quote of the day
"One last note, to anyone making changes: you will fail. I don’t say that to discourage you, but to release you from the fear of failure … because if you already know it will happen, then there’s no pressure to avoid it. Failure is an inevitable part of change, and in fact it should be celebrated — without failure, we’d learn nothing. Fail, fail often, and learn. Then you’ll be better equipped for the next attempt. Find joy in every attempt, in every victory, in every failure, and the change will be a reward in itself."
Courtesy of Zen Habits
‘Try again. Fail again. Fail better.’ ~Samuel Beckett
The hearing
So, through some awkward pauses and miscommunications, I was going to attend the divorce hearing myself. To make it even more odd, it would be just me and J's lawyer.
I had only met the lawyer once before, when we went over and signed the original paperwork. Even though J and I were amicable, and I was largely just agreeing to what she had proposed, the lawyer felt it necessary to do some posturing to prove her worth. She wasn't all that bad, but it was crap I wasn't willing to listen to. We've already agreed on everything - no need to get in a pissing match to show who's side you're on.
I was going to be back in Seattle for a little over a week, and I decided to schedule the hearing as early in the week as possible. I didn't need the cloud hanging over my head. We set it up for Monday the 21st, and the lawyer and I exchanged a few e-mails about what I should expect. It all sounded basically routine. Too routine really to end a marriage. I guess we just needed the state's blessing that we had f'd things up beyond repair.
The process of the hearing was that the lawyer would ask me a series of questions that I would need to respond to in front of the judge. As I mentioned in an earlier post, the grounds listed in the divorce filing was that, "This marriage is irretrievably broken". I still (and probably always will) have a problem with this phrase. I don't believe it is accurate, but it apparently is the standard phrasing for the state of Washington. So one of the questions was going to be "Do you believe the marriage is irretrievably broken?"
It was going to be difficult for me to say "yes" and feel like I was being honest. I initially e-mailed the lawyer to ask if there was any way we could avoid, or rephrase the question. I wasn't contesting the divorce, but I wondered what the ramifications of me saying "no" would be. I wrote her again the next day (before she had responded) to say that I wasn't trying to make things more difficult, and that I would do what was necessary to make the divorce final. The wording probably only mattered to me at this point. We agreed to meet early on the 21st to go over things.
The hearing was set for 1:30pm, and we were going to meet 15 minutes early. There was a huge line at the metal detectors downstairs, probably jammed up with people coming back from lunch as well as folks going to court. I made it upstairs about on time, and looked around for "Gina". Of course I had only met her once before, and my focus was hardly on her that day, so I looked at everyone gathered in the hallway hoping for a spark of recognition.
She wasn't there as far as I could tell, but the place was packed. And the weird thing was the majority of the people waiting were very happy. They were chatting and taking pictures, and there were small children and balloons floating around the hallway. It took a little time to realize that there were a couple of adoptions taking place, and there was a large contingent of friends gathered. It was ironically like a wedding reception. There were a few of us who were subdued, but happiness was the predominant emotion. It just felt weird.
The doors opened to the ex parte courtroom at 1:30pm, and there was still no sign of the lawyer. We all shuffled in to the pew-like benches, and someone in charge was handing out paperwork for those not represented by council. I walked up thinking I might have to do this on my own, but she sent me back and told me to wait for J's lawyer. After ten minutes, I sent a text to J asking for the lawyer's cell number. She responded relatively quickly, and I stepped out to call the lawyer. As I did, Gina came walking down the hall.
We sat down in the hall to go over the notarized paperwork I had brought, and to discuss the proceedings. It turned out we were missing the actual divorce decree, and the lawyer did not have a copy herself. I had brought up everything that was sent to me to sign, so I don't know if J or the lawyer forgot to include the decree. (I still haven't bothered to check who's oversight it was). The lawyer dashed upstairs to get a blank copy, and she ended up writing the divorce decree there in the hall. One more bumbling step down this awkwardly handled process.
Once it was filled out, we started to go over the questions she would ask. We were interrupted when the clerk came out to tell Gina she needed a special stamp on the decree. One more trip upstairs. In the meantime, texts were going back and forth between J and I. It was an even more odd moment than I had imagined. Everything continued to stretch out and I was sending play by play updates to my soon to be ex-wife. How did this all happen...
We finally went in around 2:00. There were probably ten other people there to see the commissioner (not a judge I guess) for various reasons. For the first ten minutes, the commissioner sat at the front of the room, working on his computer in silence. Though it wasn't, it felt like some weird power play to make us all sit there waiting for him. There was a giant digital clock on his desk, the glowing red numbers counting off the time as we sat fidgeting. Among the many thoughts flying through my mind was "I didn't pay for long enough parking. I am going to get a ticket to cap off this day."
He finally called up the first case, and it appeared he had been researching it during his ten minutes of silence. It was a custody case, and the man there to propose a visitation plan had not been very truthful. The next few cases went by quickly, several of them restraining orders. The happy adoption families were in a different room, and all the cases here seemed to be the depressing stuff.
When my number was called, Gina and I went up to the bench. She asked the preliminary questions about when we were married, were there kids, etc. My responses were quiet "yes" an "no" where appropriate as I stared at a small point on the commissioners desk. When it came time for the dreaded question, Gina showed her kinder side and did some rewording. The question she ended up asking me was "J has stated that the marriage is irretrievably broken, and as Washington is a no-fault state, do accept her statement?", or something close to that. A small bit of humanity from apposing council.
There were a couple more questions and it was time for the commissioner to speak. I looked up as he said, "I am convinced that the marriage is irretrievably broken, and I am granting this divorce." As Gina had promised, it all took about a minute to be over, but it was a long road to get there. It was further drawn out when we had to go upstairs for copies of the various documents, but by 2:45 it was all over.
Before the hearing started, while I was waiting for Gina to come back downstairs with the decree, I saw other couples who were making their divorce final. One couple was still hashing out details in the hall while a friend tried to play referee. Another couple came out who had already seen the commissioner. I had noticed them individually in the hall when I first got there, and they had not been standing anywhere near each other. They hugged for a long time in the hall when it was all over, and though I could not hear anything, my feeling was that this divorce was also not the guy's idea.
I'm sure it was for the best that J and I were not there together that day. Initially it seemed like we both should be there, but I'm sure it would have been that much more difficult to have her sitting next to me. I barely held it together as it is.
Going in, I felt like I should say something once it was all over, but I had no idea what to say. What do you say after all this time, especially when you did not want it to end. As we had been already been sending brief, emotionless text updates on missing lawyers and paperwork, I simply sent a final text that said, "It is official".
As I mentioned elsewhere, rather than heading to the nearest bar and drowning my sorrows, I went for a run once the hearing was over. I'd like to say I left all my troubles and feelings there by the roadside, to be washed away by the next high tide, but of course that isn't true. I still carry a lot with me each day, but I do feel a bit of closure now that the divorce is final. For my part, I will still pick things apart, trying to figure out what all went wrong. But the focus will be more toward what I will do better in the future, rather than lamenting all our mistakes.
Well, mostly.
I had only met the lawyer once before, when we went over and signed the original paperwork. Even though J and I were amicable, and I was largely just agreeing to what she had proposed, the lawyer felt it necessary to do some posturing to prove her worth. She wasn't all that bad, but it was crap I wasn't willing to listen to. We've already agreed on everything - no need to get in a pissing match to show who's side you're on.
I was going to be back in Seattle for a little over a week, and I decided to schedule the hearing as early in the week as possible. I didn't need the cloud hanging over my head. We set it up for Monday the 21st, and the lawyer and I exchanged a few e-mails about what I should expect. It all sounded basically routine. Too routine really to end a marriage. I guess we just needed the state's blessing that we had f'd things up beyond repair.
The process of the hearing was that the lawyer would ask me a series of questions that I would need to respond to in front of the judge. As I mentioned in an earlier post, the grounds listed in the divorce filing was that, "This marriage is irretrievably broken". I still (and probably always will) have a problem with this phrase. I don't believe it is accurate, but it apparently is the standard phrasing for the state of Washington. So one of the questions was going to be "Do you believe the marriage is irretrievably broken?"
It was going to be difficult for me to say "yes" and feel like I was being honest. I initially e-mailed the lawyer to ask if there was any way we could avoid, or rephrase the question. I wasn't contesting the divorce, but I wondered what the ramifications of me saying "no" would be. I wrote her again the next day (before she had responded) to say that I wasn't trying to make things more difficult, and that I would do what was necessary to make the divorce final. The wording probably only mattered to me at this point. We agreed to meet early on the 21st to go over things.
The hearing was set for 1:30pm, and we were going to meet 15 minutes early. There was a huge line at the metal detectors downstairs, probably jammed up with people coming back from lunch as well as folks going to court. I made it upstairs about on time, and looked around for "Gina". Of course I had only met her once before, and my focus was hardly on her that day, so I looked at everyone gathered in the hallway hoping for a spark of recognition.
She wasn't there as far as I could tell, but the place was packed. And the weird thing was the majority of the people waiting were very happy. They were chatting and taking pictures, and there were small children and balloons floating around the hallway. It took a little time to realize that there were a couple of adoptions taking place, and there was a large contingent of friends gathered. It was ironically like a wedding reception. There were a few of us who were subdued, but happiness was the predominant emotion. It just felt weird.
The doors opened to the ex parte courtroom at 1:30pm, and there was still no sign of the lawyer. We all shuffled in to the pew-like benches, and someone in charge was handing out paperwork for those not represented by council. I walked up thinking I might have to do this on my own, but she sent me back and told me to wait for J's lawyer. After ten minutes, I sent a text to J asking for the lawyer's cell number. She responded relatively quickly, and I stepped out to call the lawyer. As I did, Gina came walking down the hall.
We sat down in the hall to go over the notarized paperwork I had brought, and to discuss the proceedings. It turned out we were missing the actual divorce decree, and the lawyer did not have a copy herself. I had brought up everything that was sent to me to sign, so I don't know if J or the lawyer forgot to include the decree. (I still haven't bothered to check who's oversight it was). The lawyer dashed upstairs to get a blank copy, and she ended up writing the divorce decree there in the hall. One more bumbling step down this awkwardly handled process.
Once it was filled out, we started to go over the questions she would ask. We were interrupted when the clerk came out to tell Gina she needed a special stamp on the decree. One more trip upstairs. In the meantime, texts were going back and forth between J and I. It was an even more odd moment than I had imagined. Everything continued to stretch out and I was sending play by play updates to my soon to be ex-wife. How did this all happen...
We finally went in around 2:00. There were probably ten other people there to see the commissioner (not a judge I guess) for various reasons. For the first ten minutes, the commissioner sat at the front of the room, working on his computer in silence. Though it wasn't, it felt like some weird power play to make us all sit there waiting for him. There was a giant digital clock on his desk, the glowing red numbers counting off the time as we sat fidgeting. Among the many thoughts flying through my mind was "I didn't pay for long enough parking. I am going to get a ticket to cap off this day."
He finally called up the first case, and it appeared he had been researching it during his ten minutes of silence. It was a custody case, and the man there to propose a visitation plan had not been very truthful. The next few cases went by quickly, several of them restraining orders. The happy adoption families were in a different room, and all the cases here seemed to be the depressing stuff.
When my number was called, Gina and I went up to the bench. She asked the preliminary questions about when we were married, were there kids, etc. My responses were quiet "yes" an "no" where appropriate as I stared at a small point on the commissioners desk. When it came time for the dreaded question, Gina showed her kinder side and did some rewording. The question she ended up asking me was "J has stated that the marriage is irretrievably broken, and as Washington is a no-fault state, do accept her statement?", or something close to that. A small bit of humanity from apposing council.
There were a couple more questions and it was time for the commissioner to speak. I looked up as he said, "I am convinced that the marriage is irretrievably broken, and I am granting this divorce." As Gina had promised, it all took about a minute to be over, but it was a long road to get there. It was further drawn out when we had to go upstairs for copies of the various documents, but by 2:45 it was all over.
Before the hearing started, while I was waiting for Gina to come back downstairs with the decree, I saw other couples who were making their divorce final. One couple was still hashing out details in the hall while a friend tried to play referee. Another couple came out who had already seen the commissioner. I had noticed them individually in the hall when I first got there, and they had not been standing anywhere near each other. They hugged for a long time in the hall when it was all over, and though I could not hear anything, my feeling was that this divorce was also not the guy's idea.
I'm sure it was for the best that J and I were not there together that day. Initially it seemed like we both should be there, but I'm sure it would have been that much more difficult to have her sitting next to me. I barely held it together as it is.
Going in, I felt like I should say something once it was all over, but I had no idea what to say. What do you say after all this time, especially when you did not want it to end. As we had been already been sending brief, emotionless text updates on missing lawyers and paperwork, I simply sent a final text that said, "It is official".
As I mentioned elsewhere, rather than heading to the nearest bar and drowning my sorrows, I went for a run once the hearing was over. I'd like to say I left all my troubles and feelings there by the roadside, to be washed away by the next high tide, but of course that isn't true. I still carry a lot with me each day, but I do feel a bit of closure now that the divorce is final. For my part, I will still pick things apart, trying to figure out what all went wrong. But the focus will be more toward what I will do better in the future, rather than lamenting all our mistakes.
Well, mostly.
Why I went to the hearing
As painful as the decision to divorce was to me, J and I had worked together amicably to work out the details. J had contacted a lawyer at some point to see what the ramifications would be. When she told me she wanted a divorce, she suggested that we use this woman (or another) as a mediator. Our understanding was that a mediator would work as a neutral third party that would be there simply to make sure everything was done legally, dotting all the i's and crossing all the t's.
It turned out that since J went to see her previously seeking advice, that this lawyer (I'll call her Gina) could no longer act as a neutral party. J decided to retain her as her lawyer, but tried to keep her as neutral as possible. Gina drafted all the necessary paperwork based on what J and I discussed. I chose not to retain a lawyer, mostly because I trusted J, but also because I didn't want to spend money on a divorce I had no interest in taking place. I did have someone "in the know" look over the paperwork at some point to make sure I didn't miss some hidden phrase.
All the financial details had been worked out long ago, sometime back in October of 2009. One of the big pieces of the puzzle was the sale of our home, but we had agreed how things would be divided up before it even hit the market. We were fortunate to have it sell amazingly quickly, and much of the "what if" details in the paperwork were resolved before they were ever filed.
Gina redrafted the agreement to update it now that the house had been sold. And then it seemed nothing happened for 2 - 3 months. In February, I called to see what was going on, and the answer was apparently "nothing". After my call, things moved forward again and the papers were filed February 10th. There was a 90 day waiting period before the divorce could be made final.
Honestly, I expected to hear something about a scheduled court date before then, but nothing was said even two weeks after the 90 days was up. I was planning a trip to Seattle later in June, so I called J and mentioned that we could schedule the court date then.
Part of the reason I offered to attend the hearing was my reflex to be practical, and since I already had a trip planned... But I think my original intention was for both of us to be there. For some reason it seemed important for us both to be there when the marriage ended, just like we were together when it started. I also wanted to be there for a bit of closure. I wasn't really there when the decision to divorce happened, and I didn't want to be absent once again when it became final.
Of course the discussion about the divorce hearing was loaded with emotion, and when I spoke with J on the phone, I did not clearly explain my reasons for wanting to attend. J did not have a burning need to attend, and I did not force the issue. By the end of the conversation, I ended up agreeing to go on my own.
I almost immediately regretted my offer to go to the hearing on my own. Not that anything should be expected to be "fair" in all this, but it didn't seem fair that she didn't need to be there to "face the music", as it were. But at that point, I had no idea what she was feeling, so I may have been attaching feelings that weren't there.
I still had no interest in the divorce, but the sense of limbo while waiting for it to become final was almost as bad. The process seemed to have dragged on for years and it was as if a Band Aid was being removed hair by hair. So another big reason I was the one to get things moving forward again was to rip off the Band Aid and end the period of limbo. I suppose it felt good on some level to be taking some initiative, but it still seemed odd that I should be the one to push things forward.
J and I ended up exchanging some e-mails a couple of days before the hearing. I told her all that I have written here.
* That the reason I volunteered to go to the hearing was not because I had come to see things as she did.
* That I still didn't think divorce was the answer, but that waiting for the ax to fall was tortuous and unhealthy.
* That I didn't understand what all the delays had been about, when she never seemed to question her decision.
Again, I will paraphrase...She let me know that she was surprised and confused about my offer to attend the hearing. It was always her intention to be the one to finish the process, but that she did not press the issue after my offer. She had not been looking forward to this day, and that this is what was behind much of the delay. She does not expect me to see things as she does, but she hopes I will find peace with it someday.
My belief is that although she didn't seem to be questioning her decision, that she kicked each step and confrontation down the road both to avoid hurting me, and because she did not want to face them herself. Of course it didn't avoid any hurt, and I doubt the delay did her much good either. I sort of understand her motivations - avoiding pain is a natural instinct. But I still don't understand it. But without spending a day inside her head, I won't ever understand why she did the things they way she did.
We certainly did a poor job of communicating while we were married, and I wrote to her in part to change that pattern. I am glad we cleared the air a little bit before the hearing took place. The e-mails did give me a slight bit of insight into what she was feeling, and I told her they might make the hearing the tiniest fraction bit easier. I'll discuss the hearing in my next post.