Just Beneath the Surface

Some people are stoic. Or good actors. Or totally in control of their emotions. I am not a member of any of these clubs.

Regardless of the emotion, I have no control. I have broken into hysterical giggling at church and even had a couple of Mary Tyler Moore moments at funerals. During the children's portion of worship last Sunday, one of our boys developed an amazing fascination with his genitals.

And I can cry for no reason or every reason. The best thing about showers is the ability to cry and no one can hear you. I cry at touching commercials or songs that remind me of fun times, bad times, people I miss, etc. That commercial with the dogs in shelters sends me running for the Puffs.

Today is my 47th birthday. As much as all my Facebook friends think I'm hung up on the age, I'm not. In a weird way, I like my age. I'm certainly proud of my accomplishments and old enough to know I've lived (so far) an extremely blessed life.

When my stepson (I HATE calling him that!) was little, we would say our prayers. When we would get to the "God bless so and so and so and so" he would be so exhausted just trying to get through the list. I cherish that memory and I hope he does too. I also hope he still says his own version of that prayer. His statement to me, "I have so many people that love me" resonates with me today. Cards, Facebook notes and more have made my day.

Vanity is supposed to be wrong and I guess it is. Where do we draw the line? Am I not supposed to notice that I've aged 10 years in the last year and 1/2?

I've laughed today. I've cried in the shower -- mainly because of one email that reminded me of what was. Every emotion has reared its beautiful and ugly head.

It's my birthday and I'm embracing the emotions.

Not a Failure

In the interest of full disclosure, I am not a fan of Al Gore. I think he may have good intentions but, like a lot of people, is caught in the whirlwind of political life. I don't like it that's he's all about green living, yet seems unconcerned with his carbon footprint. And for the record, I'm not super concerned about mine. But I'm not making money and collecting prizes talking about global warming. I'm making this up but it seems to me that he is pontificating while he owns about 5 mansions with the staff needed to keep everything running while he burns fuel on private jets so people can knight him and grovel about how his varied causes will save the world. Not buying it.

Also for the record, I have nothing against rich people with a cause, private planes and the many perks that seem to accompany them.

I seem to always like political wives more than the politician they married. I think Tipper seems like someone who would belly laugh, take to the dance floor and then take a photo of the good times. She also seems like someone who has jumped through hoops as a political wife while tending to kids and carving out a niche for herself.

I can only imagine him (wooden reputation & stoic persona) telling her, "We must show that I am passionate!" That clip of their on-stage make-out session at the Democratic National Convention will never die. I am humiliated for her and with the news of their separation, it runs over and over and over.

(Here's an even weirder thing: I like Bill Clinton more than I like Al Gore. I know ... makes no sense to me either.)

But back to the Gore's public separation. It's two-weeks after their 40th wedding anniversary. They successfully raised four children and have amassed riches most of us will never know. They are going their separate ways and the public statement says, "No adultery" (HUGE!) and no hard feelings. I tend to believe it.

Sometimes people aren't meant to be together forever. I was with my ex-husband for almost 20 years. My in-laws (my oldies) were together for over 60 years. My parents are approaching their 50th anniversary. Contrary to my personal history, I am a great believer and great fan of marriage.

But I cringe when anyone associates the end of a marriage with failure. Forty years together is not a failure. I doubt they look at each other and their relationship and think of it as a failure.

It's a marriage that ended. That simple and that complex.

Time to Move On

Well, the Super Bowl is over and as the whole world knows, our Colts did not win. I admit that I wanted our team to come out on top but I also understand the excitement for the Saints. And I admit that if a city ever needed a sports team to bring them some good news, it's New Orleans. So, it's time to move on.

My divorce is final. It fell together pretty quickly a couple of weeks ago and then I promptly fell apart. There's a lot of two steps forward, one step back. It's hard and it's sad and it's the right thing. I'm still allowed to hurt and I'm still allowed to be mad at myself and my ex-husband. It's also time to move on.

I've allowed myself to be coddled and pampered by my parents since the separation. I am upping my intensity on the job search because I have to take something. I have to get out in the world and I have to start somewhere. I can't start rebuilding my life until I actually go out and make a new one for myself. It's time to move on.

It's also time to move on from the pity party so future posts will hopefully be much more uplifting.

The Marrying Kind

I still refer to my husband by the title "my husband" for two reasons. First of all, we are still legally married and secondly, I probably won't ever refer to anyone else by that title again. Well, unless it has "ex" in front of it.

Although you might think that's silly coming from someone like me. This is not my first marriage or my first divorce. But, I do believe it is probably my last one. It's sad because I really like so much about being married. I never intended to be anything but married, especially this last time. Sometimes things just don't work out as planned.

I am a great studier of other people's relationships. And I know a lot of people that probably should not be married but somehow they've made it work and I haven't.

Someone very near and dear to my heart is also my idol. She was a wonderful wife and mother while still maintaining her own identity and sense of self in a role that sometimes chews up other women. Once her husband passed away, she was content to view her role as someone's wife as completed. She even said to me, "I enjoyed our many years together but I will not be anyone else's wife."

When she recently announced that she is marrying her boyfriend of several years, it made me rethink a few things. Like, I probably shouldn't make grand pronouncements of never marrying again.

In Bloom

Yesterday was a day of endings and beginnings. And, time for a few memories.

The first thought that hit me was the date. If I had remained married to my first husband, yesterday would have been our 25th wedding anniversary. So I thought about him. I remembered that day and many other good times.

Then I went over to the house that I used to call home to help with sorting and cleaning, as we prepare to put it on the market. I spent the bulk of the day in the same living space, with the same man that I have shared the last 18 years with.

For extra fun, I went to the attorney's office to have my signature notarized to begin the divorce process.

As I reflected on all of these things, I decided:

My first husband was a really nice man but our marriage was not meant to be. I think his wife is really glad.

The house no longer feels like my home.

The man I am married to no longer feels like my husband; He feels like a stranger.

It felt right to sign the papers.

Later I walked the dog and tried to appreciate the beautiful day. So many gorgeous flowers opening up.

I want to be in bloom too. Time to get started.