Old Habits...

For 26 of the 29 years that we were married (we still are, though are separated with divorce pending), my husband was in the military.  An infantryman in the Canadian Armed Forces, to be exact.  This often meant he was absent from home, for both long and short periods of time. 

During these years, I developed habits for while he was away.  Little rituals that I guess is just human nature to rely on.  Or maybe I'm just weird.  Either is possible.  And in his civilian job after he retired, was also often away for work, and so the habits continued.

I always sat in his chair at the kitchen table, so I wouldn't have to look across the table and see his empty chair, and the kids wouldn't either.

I slept on his side of the bed.  Same reasoning...so I wouldn't be looking at his empty side of the bed.  It was also comforting to sleep where he slept, and sit where he had sat.

When the girls were little, we would always sing "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" before bed.  Except I changed the last lines to "Twinkle, twinkle little star, shine on my Daddy tonight".

I always started some kind of diet or exercise program.  It gave me something to focus on, and provided structure.

At night, after the girls were tucked into bed, I would sit with a cup of tea and write to him about our day.  There was usually nothing too significant, but just the minutia of what our daily lives were while he was gone. Cute things the girls said or did, etc.

And when I crawled into bed, and turned out the light, I would whisper to myself "Goodnight Michael, I miss you".

 So now, that he has moved out, I find myself doing all these same rituals still.  The girls and I have yet to sit at the table for a meal.  That is just still too painful.  We always used to go around to each person at the table and ask what the best part of our day was.  I suppose we could certainly use that now, but there's just no way.  We usually eat in front of the television together.  They are adults so I don't feel guilty, but still, it would be nice to eat at the table again.  Maybe one day.

Alone in my room at the end of the day is still the hardest time, next to waking up alone in my room in the morning.  And I find myself still whispering "Goodnight Michael, I miss you".  I know the man I am missing does not exist anymore, if he ever did except in my head, and yet I can't help it.  I am awash in pain and loneliness.

It doesn't help to know I am better off without him.  It doesn't help to know that he doesn't love me anymore and there would be no hope even if I forgave him and took him back.  It doesn't help to know that I miss a fictional person long gone from my life, though I only just found out.

I guess I need to make some new rituals.  I still can't see my future from here.  I have no vision for what my life will or should be.  There will be no homecoming to end the rituals.  He is gone forever to me.  I need to start over.  I wish I could figure out how to do that, exactly.  People say to me that it gets better, that there is a rainbow at the end.  I believe them.  I have faith that this is true.  I just can't see it from here.

The World's Oldest Excuse

If prostitution is the world's oldest profession, then adultery is surely the world's oldest sin, with relationships the world's oldest collateral damage.

The excuses may be unique to each situation, but I'm sure they are all variations on the same theme.  Off the top of my head, I'm guessing they go like this:

We bonded over ______________________

She understands me/my needs

She pays attention to me

She isn't too tired/busy to have sex

It all boils down to ...she feeds my ego what it needs, whenever it needs it.  She puts up with all my bullshit without ever challenging me on it.  They don't have boring, everyday life to deal with.  The kids, the house, the bills, the job....all of the inconvenient things that are not fun.

It's interesting to me that men only seem to leave a relationship once they have another one to go to.  Like some kind of simbyot that cannot survive the outside world unless attached, leech-like, to its host. Whereas women, leave relationships for their own good, or their children's well being, wether they have a place to land or not.  Or they are forced to stay in a bad relationship for socio-economic reasons, struggling to survive and make things work.  Sometimes they accidentally do.  Or so it seems, anyway.

This is so prevalent, it almost seems like it is meant to be.  That human nature can take no other course.  We are programmed into our predestined rolls, and no amount of evolution can change that very basic human condition of ego.

Our Last Anniversary

Well, today is our 28th wedding anniversary.  We were married on Mar. 1st, 1986, by a justice of the peace in his home.  Ironically, his home was across the street from where I had attended junior high school.  I thought that was serendipity.

We had been living together for about 8 months, I think, before that.  I was 18, and Mike was just shy of 22.  We had decided to marry by a JP, because his family really wasn't happy about our plans to marry, and so we weren't sure if we wanted to have a big wedding.  In the end we had both, but that is for another post. Very few people know about this first marriage ceremony.  Only the people that needed to know, which did not include our families at the time.  It was a special secret that Mike & I shared, and I treasured the memory.  There is no point in keeping it anymore.

I wore a white dress, with baby's breath in my hair, and Mike wore his military dress uniform.  I still have the baby's breath pressed in a photo album. We had two friends as witnesses: Mike's closest friend at the time, John, and his wife Cynthia.  After the ceremony, the two of us went out for dinner to The Smuggler's Inn, where we had prime rib and champagne.  Our witnesses weren't able to join us for dinner, as John had to deploy on course the next day.  So it was just the two of us.  Sounds a little lonely, but it was sweet. 

We spent the night in the honeymoon suite at the Delta BowValley hotel, Room 2517.  I still have the receipt in the same photo album.  It cost us $96, which would have been a fortune for us at that time.

This will be our last anniversary.  I expect our divorce to be final before the next one comes around.  Rather than celebrating the culmination of our marriage, I am reflecting on its end, and looking back on all we shared with a heavy heart. I'm learning to view it at a distance, though, and not drown in the pain.