I'd like to say I have no regrets, but that's just not true.
The divorce was final last Friday, the 2nd. The day before my birthday. I didn't make a big deal about it; I only called my mom, sister, and a friend or two after the fact; even less knew it was happening that day.
The entire thing took about 90 seconds. Rooster came with me and my lawyer because, as he put it, "I've been a part of everything else in this marriage. I should be a part of its ending, too."
He remained seated in the tiny courtroom, my lawyer and I stood in front of the presiding judge. My heart pounded and I yelled to myself to calm down and to remember to breathe.
I didn't cry.
When it was done, I turned around and walked back to Rooster. His face was fallen, his eyes searching. He quickly stood up and joined our exit. Now we had busy work: papers to file, streets to cross, more papers to file.
We shook hands with Rosemary on the corner outside the courthouse and she went right and Rooster and I went left. "Where'd you park?"
"Over there," I pointed across the park where a dozen homeless people were milling around beside a white-washed pavilion.
"Wow. That was surreal."
And my throat closed off and my eyes welled up. All I could do was nod. "Yes it was," I managed to squeak out. "See you tomorrow morning at the docks." We hugged and I lingered in his embrace for a moment longer than I needed. I'd see him tomorrow to go stand-up paddling. This wasn't a Big Goodbye.
"Hawk woke up this morning and said he missed you," he gently offered.
"Thanks. I needed to hear that."
And now I went left and he went right and as I walked by the homeless people at 9 am in 95 degree weather I noticed a rather large topless man with black underwear hanging out of his low-slung pants. His pale skin dewy with sweat visible from the sidewalk.
"No," I suddenly decided to text Rooster, "What's surreal is seeing a 300 lb, half-naked man glisten with sweat at 9 in the morning and being divorced."
He chortled back and I went and sat in my car for an hour and let hot tears leak down my face as I tried to untangle the vortex of emotions inside of me. Happy? Sad? Relieved? Numb?
Yep. Pretty much.
It's done. We're friends. We have Hawk. We survived.