Thursday, August 26, 2010

A year later

Today was the one year anniversary of my legal divorce from my now ex-husband. The past few weeks have brought some moments of relative peace between us. We have never been the sort to outwardly war with one another. Still, there has been fighting for the past year. Some of it bitter, some of it hurtful, all of it sad.

Tonight my ex had our children for a few hours. I was cleaning house and started watching Joe versus the Volcano. I had been reminded of this movie recently and so I ordered it through NetFlix. I watched the first hour until the kids got home. I forgot how alive Joe becomes after having been so dead in so many ways. I feel much the same way about letting go of my marriage. Each day, each week, each month that passes, I realize how dead I was in the relationship. What I understood my role to be, what I took on, what I perceived, none of it seems to make much sense to me anymore. I still wake up and wonder how I got so far afield.

When my kids burst through the door I said yet another prayer thanking God for them, and for my ex-husband who was part of their creation. I gave him some pictures I had taken of them recently. He thanked me. We talked about a friend who had a baby recently. Then he left. My daughter looked quizzically at me and said, "You know... you and dad can still get back together." I wonder if the woundedness she carries from our divorce will heal in time. I pray it will. My son quickly added, "I don't want you to marry anyone mom!"

Now a year later, I can see what I couldn't see a year ago. My perspective is shifting back into some semblance of focus again. It's not entirely in focus yet, but it's shifting. Like a kaleidoscope, the colors are becoming more brilliant and yet more cohesive again.

Tomorrow I will have go to my office and do my best to shepherd more people through a sticky process. And tomorrow night I will have dinner with an old friend. We will laugh and remember when. But best of all, my babies will come bursting through the front door and I'll remember my highest calling. To be a witness to their lives...their growing, their changing, their loving. What a gift my life is.

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