7.18.2011

D-Day Eve, Redux

Last Friday, the Professor filed the divorce papers I drafted.  It's a lot of paperwork, but pretty straightforward stuff -- for the most part.  It's an uncontested case (notwithstanding that I contested vehemently for a very long while), so there was a chance that the judge would issue the judgment that same day.  The judge we were assigned doesn't do prove-ups on Fridays, so the Professor is scheduled to return to court tomorrow for a prove-up.  It should be pretty standard stuff.  Barring any unexpected complications -- and every attorney knows that complications should always be expected -- the divorce should be final tomorrow.

I have a range of feelings about tomorrow, some conflicting and confusing.  Some peaceful, some heartbreaking.  All just very real, very human emotions.  Like me, like all of us, my feelings are complicated.  I accept them all -- the relief, the fear, the sorrow.   I know that I have to experience those things, to let myself feel them, although it is uncomfortable and sad.  So I let it all come to me, and I sit with it, and it fills me.  And that's the only, and best, thing I can do at the moment.

I don't reminisce very often, because it's still just too raw.  But I remember one of our first dates in Athens.  Late spring.  We had dinner and drinks, and it rained.  For some fundraising or marketing event, there were enormous bulldogs all over the city, painted in outrageous fashion.  We grabbed a disposable camera from the drug store, and in the dark, in the rain, we schlepped around the city, hunting for and taking photos with the statues.  We were soaked and laughing.  It was joyful.  It was pure.

I could go on, but I think that's enough.  It is a heartbreaking memory, but beautiful, and that is how I choose to leave things in my own heart.  It is, after all, a choice, and I want to be left with the beauty -- however painful it might be for a moment.

I'm too mentally, emotionally and physically tired to write much about this tonight.  Give me a few days to process and adjust, and I'll try to say something thoughtful and articulate this weekend.

Love and thanks to all of my readers and supporters.

3 comments:

Michelle Jarrell said...

I was/am here-just so you know and am thinking about you (whom I remember) and Chicago (which I have never seen). I believe Carl Sandburg had some things to say about Chicago. I visited his childhood home once (and yours). I think you (and Chicago) will be fine. MJ

Mom said...

I willing be thinking about you today, and my prayer is for God's peace to flood your life.

Nivedita Bagchi said...

It is a difficult time but I do hope that you find some rest, quiet and peace alongwith all the emotional turmoil. Thinking of you...