D-Day: It happened

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.


  1. bleh. it moves onward. you move onward, against your will. life is bizarre.

  2. Thinking of you, Jess. Thank you for continuing to write about your experiences. Similar stuff going down over here too.

  3. Holy shit. I need a valium. I will share it with you. So many wordless hugs to you, my courageous friend. I stand here in silence to pay homage to your heart that is filled, emptied then refilled with new stuff (good chocolatey indigo cloudy stuff) It's already happening. <3

  4. ok..first, between work, kids, pregnancy, etc. i have not kept up with my blog reading (and writing has been spotty at best). i am floored. i just spent an hour catching up...i am so hugging you right now (even though we've never met in person). onward and upward, woman....

  5. Love, I hear you, I've been following this for a while * wish I could meet you, I am going through the same thing, divorce papers being mulled over right now, it will take a while. Geez, it is surreal sometimes. I am really with you, so so much, even if I have never met you. Rebekah