There are so many things that I wanted to talk about this week. I started a bunch of different topics, only to have them dissolve into “gut reaction” posts.
Too many sensitive topics for me at the moment.
Too many unfinished sentences.
Not enough sleep.
This week has been exhausting. I’m still figuring out what my job encompasses. I was the LD (lighting designer) for a concert at the venue I work at. I know there are people laughing. The last time I did anything more than push “go” on a light board was 15 years ago. Totally not qualified to do much more than push go.
I have a theatre background – not a concert background.
The band had a billion guitars.
Do you need a different guitar for every song?
Seriously?
EVERY song?
And does it have to be so loud?
I digress.
Today was the 16th anniversary of the day my former husband and I started dating.
Honestly, I had been so busy trying to keep up with work and kids and home that I didn't realize it was the third until I got a text from him asking if I had time for coffee. At that point I was in the middle of trying to trouble-shoot a passel of wireless mics that didn't want to function. I am so not a sound tech. Basically, I know how to turn a mic on and make sound come out the speakers. I don’t know how to troubleshoot.
Sink or swim, right?
I think I managed to tread water. Barely.
Anyway, I replied sure, but asked if there was a particular reason – There’s no emotion in a text, so I couldn't tell if there was something amiss. Nothing amiss, just wanted to spend a bit of the day with me.
We ate and talked.
He bought. Pizza and salad.
It was nice. More than nice.
At some point he made a comment that stuck with me.
“Even if I knew what the outcome would be, I’d still do it all again. It was an amazing 16 years.”
It was.
Still is. We’re still good friends – best friends.
Know why?
We didn't push it. When we figured out it was over – we weren't in love with each other and we weren't going to find that kind of love in each other again. We accepted it.
We grieved that loss, together. We moved forward.
We didn't “try” until there was no trust and all hate.
We looked at the three beautiful children we had created together and decided to do what was best for them.
Know what? We did it right.
A professional even said so. We made an appointment with a child therapist to talk with us and all three kids to help them process everything that had changed.
We all talked with him together, then the kids went out to the lobby and we just talked with him. He was truly amazed that we never – not once – argued in front of the kids; never talked negative about the other parent. He commended us and commented that he wished more parents he saw would do what we had done.
We truly care about each other and want our family to continue – our marriage ended – not our family.
Which brings me to the other bit I wanted mention. I don’t like referring to the man I spent 16 years with as my “ex-husband.”
To me that sounds so negative. And then what are my in-laws? Ex-in-laws?
Same rule applies – just because our marriage is broken, doesn't mean that our family is broken. After being part of my in-law’s family for 16 years, I’m not just going to walk away – I care about them too much to do that. They’re as much my family as the family I was born into.
So, we decided that we’re not going to refer to each other as “ex’s”.
Former husband/wife
Or
“We used to be married.”
My kids’ dad – doesn't seem to encompass what we are to each other.
We both know that we have no clue what comes next. We might end up bitter and hateful. But we are doing everything we can to avoid that.
I cherish his friendship and he treasures mine.
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