I’ve come across another round of feelings. Yippee. I truly believe that every new big change takes a solid year ’round the calendar to assimilate, and even though all the anticlimactic interactions with my ex-husband over the last few days led me to believe I was healed, today threw me for a loop. Today was gorgeous. The sun came out, the breeze smelled wonderful, it was warm – it was Spring, no doubt about it. And I had a memory bubble of past days like today, coming home from work, fixing a fabulous dinner, and really looking forward to just hanging out on the back porch with my husband and watching the fish in the pond.
That memory, my friends, moved me to tears. That feeling of excitement, anticipating spending the evening with my husband. And thus passes another stone in the path of living through the first year of a big new change. It’s Spring, just like always, but everything is different. It makes me so mad that something that seems so petty could merit such grief. And grieving is what I’m doing. I miss my old life, I miss my old house, my cats, my garden, the security of marriage and the presence of a constant companion.
Then there’s the double whammy of what feels like betrayal – it was my damn idea to get divorced, I’m the one who moved out – where do I get off feeling miserable about it? Ah, the complexities of relationships. I’m once again faced with the reality that good decisions aren’t always easy. And that the easiness or difficulty of an action rarely speaks to whether the decision to take action was right or wrong. I’d still like it if the “right”decisions were easy and the “wrong” ones were hard. Then I’d know for sure! When taking action on a right decision comes with grief and pain it’s really challenging for me to maintain that it was the right thing to do.
Lunch today was a fortifying black beans with sundried tomatoes, butternut squash with butter and collard greens with vinegar and gomasio. I had leftover rice pudding with cardamom in the afternoon.
I’m not even going to put a big bow on this one; no moral to the story, no gratitude for lessons learned. My heart hurts, my mascara is running, I’m going to bed.
Dinner, as you may well imagine, was a much desired cheeseburger from Five Guys.
Tags: cheeseburger, grief
