Yesterday Holly came to me while I was brushing my hair. She said, "Mama, my chest hurts like when Oinkers died."
Oh honey. I know. I do know. Still, I asked her, "What is making your chest hurt, love?"
"You and Daddy breaking up."
Yes. I know.
This is what has silenced me for the last month. In the midst of attending the PV2 conference, AWP, attending an art retreat in NW Iowa, getting published in Literary Mama, and being accepted to a residency in Prague this summer....
Chad and I came to the mutual decision to divorce. We've been together nearly twenty years. We have three children. We've built this farm together. Yet, neither of us are happy. Our lives looked near perfect to everyone else. I'm not going to bog down these blog posts with whys and reasons. There are so many little ones, a few big ones, and none of them make any difference in the outcome. I'm not interested in people taking "sides" because we share a community and we both really need that community right now, for support and friendship and not pity or resentment.
Yes, we are both heartbroken. Yes, we are both grieving for a future that is no longer possible.
It is time for me to stop referring to the "we" and being an "I" is scary as hell.
For now we are still living in the same house while we figure out the legal aspects, plan for the care of our children, and generally untangle twenty years of co-dependance. We have a shared history, our entire adult lives. I have never been a grown woman not married to Chad.
This is where we are. If you see me and I look distant? This is why. I know my friends and family are worried as hell about me. Just know? Know I am resilient. Know that while I leave the farm behind (because it belongs to Chad's parents) it simply means that for a time I will be a landless farmer and I will find a way back to that life. It will just look different than it does now.
Making this public? This is part of the process too.
This is the right thing to do. It is moving faster than I'd like. Still. It is moving.
I do feel like I am being grafted, removed from the root stock of hardy timber. I feel like I am dormant while I find where to graft to, or maybe grow new roots. I am like a willow, I bend and grow. Versatile and resilient. Weeping too.
Friday, 3 April 2015
Of course, when I get time to sit down and work on PV2 notes....they are outside in the cruiser. What to do?
Chad played a show. A punk show. At a gay bar. For pride week. It was pretty darn good too. These are raw photos. I am working on a flickr album of the whole set. I have quite a few really good pictures. But for now? Here are these.
This week was a hard week for our local GLTB community. One of the local bars received a threat letter with hazardous materials in it. FBI called in and all. Lost a day of business to a grammatically horrible hate letter. This reminds us how far is left to go, to love, and accept.
So Chad and the Dalektables rocked downtown with old school punk covers. Our friends came out to see the set and support all the folks at the variety show. It was a house full of love. That's something, right?