In 2003, I was married after two years of dating. I was 30 and most of my friends had long been married and had families. Some were happy; some not. Since I had waited til I was 30 I thought I was more mature and ready. Well, I suppose I was but he was not. Well, in hindsight, maybe neither of us were. In 2008, my divorce was final. It was a nasty, grueling, emotional nightmare that devastated me. I felt as if I had failed. Failed myself, my parents, my grandparents and all that I knew to be right about love and marriage. No one in my family but my uncle had been divorced (twice) and the last thing my pride wanted was to be compared to him. Til death do us part for my parents and both sets of grandparents and great grandparents. What did I do wrong? At 35, I was starting life over….alone.
A failed marriage was disheartening enough but what made it truly unbearable was the financial devastation and legal battles that were attached. The court approved an agreed-upon settlement and, after 13 years, I am still not receiving the determined monetary amount. Many years of nasty certified letters, lawyers, screaming, anger and disgust filled my life and my heart. I held up my end of the agreement but he did not. I kept wondering why I was being punished. My everyday life was still being controlled by him and I swore to forgive but never forget. Of course, like all of us, those were just words. I didn’t forgive him. I would never forgive him, I thought. He ruined everything. My trust in others disappeared. The rage toward dating again overwhelmed me. I could not even stand the thought of ever being in the same air space as a man I once loved because of betrayal of so many sorts.
As years went on, I would get a menial (not even half of the legal agreed-upon amount) check in the mail and the rage would fill me up and I would hop on the victim train again. I refused to deal with lawyers any longer because they couldn’t guarantee I would “win” and being out even more money than I already was made no sense. So I decided I just wanted him out of my life and this petty check would make him suffer because he would have to send it every month for the rest of his life. Yeah, I was definitely bitter, to say the least.
Six years after our divorce, my grandmother transitioned and I was lost in many ways. I had always been my grandmother’s pride and joy and she was mine. I was the only grandchild and we were inseparable. She would always slip money in my purse when I wasn’t looking. She paid for my college undergrad and grad school. She bought a car for me and I would pay her monthly so I wouldn’t have to finance it. I found out years later she was just putting that back into another account of mine. Sneaky devil, she was! When my ex decided to go to school full-time and not work, Grandmother would give me checks to supplement that lost income, even though I didn’t need it. When my ex demolished his car, she bought him a new car which he sold for money after we separated. Ungrateful bastard, I thought. The list goes on and on.
Being an only child, my mom had been keenly aware of Grandmother’s finances since her father transitioned almost 30 years prior. But neither of us knew of an account my grandmother had with only her name and mine on it. That account just happened to have the exact amount that my ex-husband owed me. Even in death, she was still taking care of me. There are no coincidences!
It was at that point I realized this was bigger than me. Bigger than a divorce. Bigger than doing the right thing. Bigger than being the better person. Now I could truly be free of him, I thought, because regardless of getting the money I was owed from him, my grandmother took care of me again and that money rightfully owed to me was ultimately received, albeit in a different way. I went on with my life, still angry, but not letting it run my life any longer. Well, or so I thought…..
About two years later, I received a letter in the mail from him requesting that I relieve him of what he owed me because his wife had cancer and they needed to travel to NY for trials. The anger raged up inside of me again. Just seeing his handwriting made me sick. Knowing he hand delivered it to my mailbox was even worse because that meant he had been to my house. He knew nothing about my life or challenges or my financial or health woes. How dare he?! My dad had been battling cancer that came back three times since we divorced but that didn’t matter to him, I suppose. Nothing mattered because all he cared about was himself and his new wife-who by the way knew nothing about me. Well, she may have but not the truth. He was sucking her dry like he did me and even convinced her to get a German Shepherd puppy- since he had “never had one and always wanted one”. (FYI- three years after we were married we got a GSD puppy btw. Needless to say, I fought to keep Prowler over everything else and I won.) I refused to relieve him of his obligation and wished no ill will upon his wife. Needless to say, that didn’t go over well but that’s too bad. Life sucks sometimes when you’re an adult and have obligations.
Somehow, and I don’t recall how, I found “her” blog. It was all about her cancer journey. Being a lover of the written word and definitely personal accounts, I was definitely intrigued. Also, having been an advocate for my dad who battled prostate cancer at that point for 19 years, cancer patients always have a soft spot in my world. I felt for her. I wanted to help her. But I wanted nothing to do with him. I knew she had no idea I existed and I hated him even more for that. He hadn’t changed. Only the woman he was married to had changed.
In 2016, two years after meeting my current husband, we moved out of state. Two months later, my GSD died and the following year, three days apart, my dad did. It was then that everything changed. Remember that whole spiritual awakening thing I mentioned in my last blog post? Yeah……. (If not, here is your sign to go read it.)
Something nudged me to check out “her” blog again, which I had avoided and, honestly, forgotten all about. It was in the blog that I found that she had lost her battle……the same year as my dad, a few months prior. Tears uncontrollably rolled down my face and my heart ached. No one should have to suffer that way. I can’t imagine going through what she did. I can’t imagine leaving my family, my business I worked so hard to build, my friends, my animals. Then I instantly thought of my ex and my heart ached for him too. Yep, you read that right. Everything changed. He is a hurt soul. He always has been and it all quickly came to my knowing. He always longed for parents who were loving and compassionate and supportive but his mom was an alcoholic and his dad was a pompous, arrogant know-it-all who came from a Belgian royal family (or so he claimed). Lots of heartache and 0 to 7 unresolved-and-shoved-under-the-rug issues. What my ex was always lacking was unconditional love. I tried my best to provide that until trust was broken and unrepairable, police became involved and the relationship had served it purpose with lessons soon to be learned.
With the death of his wife, my hardened, angry and resentful heart burst wide open for him. All that I remembered from that point forward was the good we shared over six years time. There were a lot of great times and yet they had been replaced instantly with hatred, shame and guilt. It was then, at the realization at the death of her, that I was able to truly forgive him….and myself….. and let the chains that I self imposed for ten years……..go. We are all here as souls having a temporary human experience; growing and learning according to our soul’s purpose. He was part of my journey. I was part of his. Love is all that remains now. Finally……that unconditional love appeared……by letting go.
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