Giving Up. Giving In. Going Home.

Sorry for the long delay since my last post. Quite a bit going on.

Is your marriage certificate just a piece of paper? If so, is your divorce decree just another one? I've had people make comments of that sort to me and truthfully, I don't agree. I appreciate the legalities involved but I also know the emotional importance of both.

I am back with my ex-husband -- the love of my life. For both of us, it represents exactly what the title of this blog post says. We are giving up, giving in and finding home again. And, redefining it. We are two people in various stages of mid life embracing our past and determined to celebrate the good parts while not repeating the bad parts. I met this man when I was 26 and married him when I was 29. He has been my husband, lover and friend for most of my adult life.

Perhaps this marriage had to run into a ditch for us both to realize what we have and what we screwed up. I'm not big on trying to figure out God's plan -- I'm not that smart. But with hindsight, I can see we needed the break to appreciate what we had and what we have found again.

A couple of years ago, we were at a lake cottage with friends. Gabby on his lap and all of us having fun on the pier. We will do that again next weekend but oh how we have grown and changed.



I'm giving up. I'm giving up things like pride, my control-freak tendencies and my judgemental ways when he says or does something I don't agree with. I'm giving in. Giving in to the pure, raw feeling that says to me, "This is right."

I'm home.

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.

And So It Goes

I've been lapse in updating the blog because my new year did not start out as I had hoped. I wanted to give you all sorts of good news and positive, uplifting comments about moving forward.

Instead, I was dealt a few setbacks. And I felt sorry for myself a bit.

With all the tragedy and despair in the world -- Hmmm... Haiti perhaps? -- it is indulgent and ridiculous to get depressed over little things in life. Or is it? The little things that go wrong seem very big at the time. Guess that's just human nature.

I don't live in Haiti; I live in Indiana where I came in second (AGAIN!)for a job I really wanted. I negotiated and signed divorce papers yesterday for a marriage that is long over but with a heart that is still wounded.

My heart breaks for the devastation in Haiti and yet, it is uplifted by the miraculous stories of rescue and the humanitarian efforts. My heart is broken by some things in my life right now but I know tomorrow is another day and my spirit is resiliant.

Embracing the New Year

Earlier this week, my aunt married her love. She and her new husband have both experienced love and loss with their first spouses. Now they are embracing each other and their future together. Not only am I extremely happy for them, I am inspired by them.

I'm in search of inspiration right now. Tomorrow is my wedding anniversary and my divorce is still not final. My job search is in "crash and burn" mode. I keep getting soooo close and then something happens. The roller coaster of hopes up/hopes dashed is exhausting.
But the new year is almost here and I'm finding a lot to look forward to. Or more accurately, new things to be inspired by and about.

Happy New Year

A Public Official vs. A Public Figure

Oh, I am so disappointed that Tiger is a Cheetah...

(I'm also really disappointed that I wasn't smart enough or creative enough to come up with that headline before someone else.)

I go back and forth on this one.

Before you think I might have lost my morals and my mind, let me be clear -- anyone who cheats is a dog. A double-devil, dirty dog. A slimy, scum-of-the-earth, not worthy-of-breadscraps dog.

Here's where I'm unclear: We didn't elect him to anything. If Nike wants to give him a b'jillion dollars to represent their company and he does something (anything!) to violate that contract, well ... that's between him and Nike. If people throw tons of money to attend golf tournaments where he will play or have his name attached, I'm pretty sure the contract is ironclad and there's no clause that regulates his sex life.

Tiger is not a public official. He does not solicit public funds and he does not receive millions of dollars to run for office. He receives millions of dollars for running an empire where he is expected to play golf in an exceptional manner. Sure, he's also expected to be a role model -- something I'm sure none of us would sign up to be.

The saddest part of the aftermath is money will change hands. Tiger and his wife may renegotiate their pre-nup, mid-nup, post-nup contract. Any sponsorship contract he signs in the future is likely to have a strong "character" clause. Everyone will cast a little shadow of doubt with possible dubious behavior.

You can throw all the money around that you want. There's nothing like a wife chasing your car down the street with a golf club in her hand, bashing in the windshield and wishing (for a second) it was your head.

Suddenly Single

Well, it's starting. People told me it would happen and I disagreed.

More than one man has requested my company on a date.

I hate it. I hate me for questioning motives. I hate that I have lost the protective cocoon of marriage. It allowed me to be friendly and silly. It allowed me to dance when the spirit moved me -- as it often does.

I know I'm not married but I don't feel single. I feel like a bratty 5-year old saying, "I don't want to date and you can't make me!"

I don't date. Don't ask me.

But put on the right song and I'll dance like a fool.

Don't Rewind

Many phases or decisions require a leap of faith. Some do it with a prayer while others adopt a "what the hell!" attitude. As I am continuing with my soul-searching, what-am-I-supposed-to-learn journey, I'm learning that it takes a dose of courage and a leap of faith to confront the icky underbelly of choices gone awry. It also takes a leap of faith to move ahead and believe there are better choices and days ahead.

Here's a lesson I'm pondering:

I've noticed that a lot of what passes for conversation only involves one party. The other person isn't interested or has heard the information before.

I am guilty of both sides.

And, it occurs to me that most of the spirited discussions toward the end of my marriage -- the last three years or so -- required neither of us to be there. We'd said it all before. We should've kept a tape of it so we could rewind, hit "play" and find something else to do.

There's a lesson in there that I'm trying to learn.

Look at me -- I'm leaping and learning.

Rocking in Memories

Don't we all have the fantasy of kicking back in old age? Rocking next to someone we love? Sharing memories and sharing stories.

The thing that gets me about the rocking chair fantasy is I don't want to sit beside someone who doesn't share my history. I don't want to learn his stories; I want to know them by heart. I want to interrupt and say, "No, it wasn't New Orleans; it was Las Vegas." I don't want to tell someone that I was once younger and cuter and smart and capable. I want someone who remembers when I was all of those things.

You're probably thinking that I'm melancholy and muddled in memories because my divorce is progressing. You would be correct.

Just because my divorce is the right thing doesn't make it hurt less.

Giving it Back

When my husband and I married, it was important to him that I take his name. I was a little hesitant. I really did not want to go through the hassle of changing my name. Again. I also have maintained an odd affection for my given name.

But, I am a pretty traditional person and I appreciate the symbolism and simplicity of sharing a name with a husband. A marriage -- a couple, a shared home, a shared last name.

I have used his last name for more than 16 years -- most of my professional life. More people know me by that name than my original name although thankfully, I've always held onto my maiden name as my middle name. I hope I have used his name well but I know now it was not meant to be permanent. It was given as a gift and I no longer want it. I'm thinking of it more as a loan and now it's time to give it back.

Once the nice judge says it is permissible, I will begin the lengthy (and somewhat cleansing) process of changing my name. Again. This time it doesn't feel like a chore. It feels like returning home.

And to all of you who have never quite given up calling me "Sheri Lynn" or referring to me as "Riley," I want you to know that all three names are music to my ears.

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.

Dating? Ugh.

I haven't been on a first date in about 18 years. My husband used to tell the story of our beginning as, "We went on a couple of dates and then she never left." There's a kernel of truth there.

The whole idea of dating fills me with dread and makes me want to crawl into bed with a book and a huge bowl of ice cream. It's too soon ... I'm too raw. But I know I will face it eventually.

One of the great safety nets of marriage is the ability to be with people of the opposite sex and no one thinks you're on the prowl. They know me. They know my husband. They know I'm going home to him. With strangers, a simple, "I'm married" clarifies the situation nicely. I'm used to going out alone or with girlfriends, running into people I know, etc. Now it feels odd.

I did have a date a couple of weekends ago. He wore a suit and tie and treated me like a Queen.

The next weekend I was tossed aside for a better woman; his wife returned home.