Was it worth it?
On April 21, I was very sick. I could no longer function in the relationship I was in. I had lost all hope that it would work out anymore. I looked around and saw continued anger, a battle over control, and just plain pain. I had enough. I left.
Did I abandon Rosemary? That depends on how you view it. On whose side you are on. I believed that my leaving was a matter of weeks at the most, not forever. She certainly had enough money to carry on for a month or so.
And so I went on the journey. Many good things happened. Some really bad memories were replaced by many good ones. I did some things I had hoped to do for many years, if not at least a decade.
I renewed some old friendships and strengthened some current ones. It seemed as if I was constantly being pursued as I did so. On one side I was being asked to stop. On the other, I was being vilified. I could not find a reason to go home, so I didn’t.
Today, there is much I have going for me. My shrink told me I really don’t need a shrink any more. I have gotten healthy. Yet I am homeless. I am either camping or, more recently, renting a room with friends until the summer heat stops crushing me. If you look at the photo of me camping, I am none too happy. I am now on a waiting list for a couple of senior complexes that I can afford, but they can’t give me a time frame. It could be weeks, could be years. It depends on the openings they have. In other words, I am waiting for people to die. I have paid a heavy price for this so-called health.
I am bombarded with e-mails from my soon to be ex. She struggles hard now. The money she was left with has run out. Part of this is her fault; part is mine. We are far apart on a settlement, mainly because of her needs for money. I go back and forth on this. On one side, I offer some help, which she refuses as not being enough. On the other side, she is the one who filed for divorce about five weeks after I left. So she has more than contributed to her problems. There is no hope, even for an optimist like me, of any reconciliation.
From my “old” life, there is a wasteland. People who knew me through my wife refuse to talk to me or outright hate me. My older son has sent me two e-mails since I left, basically saying to get out of his life. My younger son has made a threat on my Facebook wall and on father’s day he wrote: “Happy Worthless-Ass Sperm Donor Day!” I placed a birthday card in his car and he did not acknowledge it. But his mother tore into me for not giving him money. Hell, he hasn’t acknowledged my birthday in years.
I have some friends. They are important to me. They keep me sane and focused. Without them, I would be in very bad shape. The thought of being alone is unbearable. So I somehow carry on.
I have a few new things in my life. Country music is especially important to me. It has taken on a role once held by Harry Chapin, a folk singer/story teller who died decades ago. The plain speaking, get it off your chest lyrics appeal to me and the music is better than the urban stuff that has taken over the music world.
I am struggling with God. I consider myself a Christian. But I struggle to find a church that works for me. I met with a friend from my old church where I went many years. I had driven there for a morning prayer meeting, but when I spotted someone whom I didn’t very much like, I didn’t go in. I didn’t want to share my pain with that person, despite wanting to get some touch. I have gone to a couple of Episcopalian services. There are priests/rectors on both coasts that I have a great deal of respect for. But at the last one, the mass was officiated by a woman. I still can’t figure out how I stand with that. I don’t think it is fair for women to not serve, but I also don’t think it aligns with Biblical thinking. One church a friend attends seems very attractive. The minister seems to be a sincere person who loves God. But the friend’s slim knowledge of her faith leads me to wonder what the rest of the congregation would be like. I still feel I can somehow serve in some sort of ministry. I see many things I think I could do. But I am homeless and haven’t a clue about what I could do.
Was it worth it? I just don’t know. If things could go back to where they were, I wouldn’t want it like that. What I wanted were things I just couldn’t have – much of which was because I did to that relationship. But breaking free of it means starting over at the age of 62 and it is very hard. As a friend of mine likes to say “future plans subject to change.”
I wanted to say that I still don’t know what I want to do when I grow up. But I’ve finally figured out I never will grow up – at least by other peoples’ standards. So I’ve got to look in the mirror every morning and carry on. I guess what I really wanted to say to others is something my Dad used to tell me, which I ignored: “Be careful what you wish for. You might get it.” I do know that there are some who envy what I have done. Believe me, it isn't worth rushing into.
