In the back of my mind, I knew I’d probably have to move again, perhaps when I was 70 and could no longer keep up with things. When that happened, I thought we would move to a townhouse or something like that. Maybe have a winter home somewhere warmer. That we would travel. And golf, something my husband started to teach me last summer, that I took up so we had something we could do together, and with our friends.
I wake up each day trying to grasp what’s happening. So far, I can’t.
This past weekend, my husband told me he’s filing for divorce. Did I see that coming? No. He’d said something was not right in our marriage about a month ago, but we talked and I thought we were working things out. I thought he WANTED to work things out.
He’d been cold and distant lately, I thought it was the stress of the economy and work. I learned that it was his way of shutting me out of his heart. He was thinking about our marriage and working things out in his mind for the past six months or so. He said he’s been trying. But he’s been trying alone, without me knowing what’s happening.
I still don’t grasp it. There’s a loss of connection, he says. Nothing wrong with me. He’s not angry with me. He says it would be easier if he were. He has an idea of what a relationship should be like, what it would feel like, and he doesn’t have that thing with me.
I had such plans for this summer. I’ve had thyroid problems that medication has just recently helped resolve. I was pulling out of the grief over losing my Dad. I finally had some energy. I was starting to write again, with this blog, and a book I had planned.
And my husband and I just recently did a big remodel on the whole first floor of our house. We picked out new kitchen countertops, wood floors, and colors to paint all the walls. I just finally have gotten almost everything put back in place – hung pictures back up, moved furniture back, put books back on the shelves, arranged lamps and knick knacks.
After the lengthy chaos of the remodel and dealing with the fear that spending the money on it was a mistake with how things were at work, I was just beginning to enjoy the new look, the feel of the place. I’ve been walking around the house admiring the rich colors and textures. I love the new look of my office, with all the reds I put into it.
I was looking forward to entertaining this summer. I was looking forward to having friends and family over, some who have never been to my home, to show them how the remodel turned out.
I wanted this to be a place where people felt welcome. I bought a book on making bread. I had this image of always having coffee and fresh bread available. Maybe cookies too. I had plans and dreams…
And now? I have no idea. I have two horses, a dog, a cat, and one goldfish. It’s not just finding a home for me. It’s finding a home for them. It’s losing a truck to haul the horse trailer. And that goal I wrote about, learning to be an expert at driving the horse trailer so I could take myself trail riding whenever I wanted? Not happening.
The garden I was going to plant this summer and all the tomatoes I was finally going to learn how to can? Not happening.
I am losing a man that I love so much it hurts. I can’t imagine life without him. He’s been my friend, my lover, and my helpmate. He understands my sense of humor. He’s made me laugh and comforted me through many of my losses. I thought we were building a life together.
I think about when he proposed to me. How he stopped near the place we first kissed – a stoplight in a little town. He came to my side of the vehicle and on bended knee proposed. I thought it was so romantic. I was so happy. I’ve been so happy.
Besides losing my husband, I am losing my home. The place that I have felt safe, at peace, happy, and so fortunate. When we moved into this place, I kept looking around in disbelief. The land we are on is so beautiful, so perfect – the trees, a creek, a pond, some rolling hills, a huge deck to sit out on and watch the horses play. When we first moved into the place, I told my husband I would never move again, that he’d have to bury me out in the pasture.
So much loss. My Mom in September 2007; my dog, Willow, in August 2008 (people who’ve lost dogs know that’s no trifle); my Dad in November 2008, and now my husband and home. Not to mention losing an Aunt and Uncle in the past month. And I’ve been through divorce before and never wanted to go through it again.
People say to give it time. I need to get over the shock first. Right now, I can’t fathom a new home. I can’t fathom a different life. I don’t know how I’ll bear not being with this man that I love. Yet, I’m told by friends and family that I will bear it. Somehow.
I read Psalms a lot lately. Such as, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, so far from the words of my groaning?” Psalm 22:1
I try to have faith and not be fearful. “The Lord is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge. He is my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.” Psalm 18:2
It may sound bad, but I try to be angry rather than depressed. I’ve heard that depression is anger turned inward and I agree.
And I try to see the humor in a humorless situation because laughter is what has gotten me through loss and hard times before. But nothing like this. I have never suffered a loss this great.
Maybe it’s not the end of a cowgirl dream, just this particular cowgirl dream. I feel too old to create a new one. I don’t know where I’ll summon the energy or desire from. I can’t even imagine living anywhere else, being with anyone else. I don’t want anything else. Really, really, don’t want anything else.
But it’s early. Maybe. I can’t see it now. But maybe.
And I’m not quite sure what this blog will be about for awhile. I don’t want to go on and on about my divorce and sorrow. Not very entertaining. Maybe it will help me live with some sort of normalcy if I plan on continuing to write about my dog and horses. So, hopefully, future posts will not be this long drawn out monologue without even one photo.
I’ll try and I’ll keep trying, and I know some of your blogs will keep inspiring me.