If a Red Sox fan needs a reason to rejoice, it would be any time the Yankees take the gas pipe and cough up a loss. First, let me say this: I do not hate the Yankees. My Dad is a Yankee fan. He grew up in northern Maine during the golden era of Yankee teams. He was drawn to DiMaggio, Berra, Mantle, Ford and the other great teams of the 40s and 50s. But I was fan of the Red Sox after the Impossible Dream team of 1967. I was not aware of that team during that time, but learned about that team, and baseball history as I was drawn deeper into baseball. I always respected the Yankees but experienced the angst that all Red Sox fans experience when the Yankees always seem to get the breaks, and the Red Sox had all the bad luck. So seeing the Yankees post season misfortunes of the past 7 years have given me hope that the tide is turning, especially after the World Series win in ‘04. So when I saw the Yankee score from last night, a 2-1 loss to Cleveland in 13 innings, it made the Red Sox win over the Angels all the more sweeter. The problem I have with Yankee fans is that there is the notion that the Yankees are entitled and should win it all every year. Even if you have the most successful of franchises, there has to by a natural cycle of things. There has to be a period of frustration and failure, even with a successful sports franchise. There is a difference between pride and entitlement. The Yankees are old; their starting pitching is ancient, their starting lineup has a few young bucks, but their rely on established but fading stars for their offense. They have a few young, rising stars that will make them a better team. Right now, though, they can only get by on experience. I will look forward to the next couple of days. I am hoping that the Red Sox win their next game in California, and that the Yankees lose their third at Yankee Stadium. That would be so sweet to see the Yankees lose at home, to deny them another chance at a World Series win.
Hello, I can see you read between the lines. I’m glad that you figured it out. We can do this several ways: you can respond to my posts, email me through Yahoo or log onto Yahoo Messenger (look for megawfa79). I didn’t want to pay the money for the service (I’m not cheap, but you were the only person to respond to my email). I look forward to hearing from you.
My roommate is out for the night, so I am enjoying a quiet night at home. But I’m not sure about how quiet it will stay because I’m watching Game 1 of the ALDS with the Red Sox and California/Anaheim/ Los Angeles Angels. My first major league game was in 1975 with these two teams at Fenway Park in Boston. I’ve been hearing the smack from the loudmouthed Yankee fan at work. He has been bad mouthing the Sox out of ignorance. It’s one thing to have blind passion for your team, but when a Yankee fan still thinks his team is the best in baseball, and that the pitching staff is the best, surely they are living in a fantasy world. The guy doesn’t think and he’s easy to get going. Drop a line about the Yankees not winning the division or the Yankee pitching staf giving up at least 20 runs to Baltimore, and he is off and running. It’s fun to get him going. Granted, the exchange is heated but it’s friendly.
The menu tonight was a chicken sausage with apple, and red beans and rice. Please, no healthy eating diatribes. You should have seen the size of the salad I consumed last night. It all evens out in the end. Add to it a cold hefeweizen and it’s a meal made in heaven, or New Orleans..it’s all the same.
I thought I would drop a quick post, just to get things on track. I like to be home around 5pm, make some dinner and relax. Last night I visited some friends on the coast and that was great. A relaxing night by the ocean, can’t get better.
Back to the game I go. As of this post: bottom of the 7th Boston 4 Angels 0. GO SOX!!
Yes, Mr. and Mrs. America, I am still here and trying to wade through the muck. It’s been awhile, and I realize that if one is going to blog, regular posts are mandatory. The only thing that’s holding me back is the fact I don’t have high speed internet. It’s amazing how dependent you become on technology. Well, thanks to my roommate with dial-up, I am able to crank out this post. Yes, it’s painfully slow, but it gets the job done.
Okay, for those of you keeping score at home, the divorce is in limbo. I am adjustng to the new lifestyle of being on my own, but sometimes it’s hard. The hardest thing to adjust to is the fact that there’s no one I can hold when I’m feeling low. Sometimes you just need someone to hug. The relationship with my kids is up and down, especially with my daughter. She needs to talk with a professional because she is one pissed off teenager. Lately, her work schedule and school schedule interfere with my available time to see her. I guess her boyfriend is higher on the social chain than I am. My son is playing freshman football and I am not able to see his games, due to the fact my second job and his games coincide. That sucks big time. I have been trying to watch his practices after I leave work. He has noticed me sitting on the hill overlooking the field, and has told me that it makes him feel good to see me there. Then there’s the soon-to-be-ex-wife. I still can’t understand how someone, who has invalidated me on several levels by asking for this divorce, still has this cheery tone in her voice when she speaks with me on the phone. It’s still difficult to be in the same room with her, and even more difficult to put on a glad face in front of the kids.
So, there you have it. The daily grind get me down sometimes, but I look forward to the good days. The warm sun of autumn in New England feels good coming through the windshield as I drive through the country, or a cool night that makes for good sleeping. I played golf today and being outdoors with the colors just beginning to turn out was a magical experience. It’s the tailend of fair season, when I like to watch oxen pulls while eating a blooming onion, and eating home cooking at the local church’s makeshift restaurant. It’s the best time of the year.
I know it’s been awhile since my last post, so now I need to get back to writing. The past week or so has been a series of adjustments. The biggest one has to do with how my wife and I relate infront of the children. Not that it’s been bad, but there are some mixed messages being delivered. My wife believes that having an amicable relationship means having me stay for dinner. you know, hanging out and having a friendly family gathering, but Dad has to leave after the meal is over. This doesn’t sit well with my daughter. She is angry and confused about this. I can see how it can be confusing. She sees how Mom and Dad are behaving. She believes that if Mom and Dad can get along, why can’t they be married. My thoughts exactly, but my wife is so black and white. She thinks the relationships are distinct and just because one is bad doesn’t mean the other one can’t. Well, if that’s the case, then why not go to counseling and work on it? I know, I know…it’sa theme that’s been beaten to death. Maybe if I beat it long enough, some of it will sink into my wife’s brain. But you can’t depend on it and that’s why I need to get on with my life. Now, my days with the kids can be at home, but my wife takes off. She usually heads upcountry to visit a woman she used to party with back in the old days. This woman has been married three times, divorced twice and (technically) still married to number 3. But she left him and her son behind when he caught her having Internet cyber love. This woman is notorious for just picking up and leaving when the going gets tough. She did it to two of her children. Now she’s living with the guy she met on the Internet in a rented mobile home. This woman had moved to North Carolina, then moved back here after three years. I know, it sounds so trailer trash it’s stupid. My wife used to hang around a group of women when she graduated business school and was looking for a job. I get this image of her being the youngest and tagging along to bars, almost looking for acceptance. Now, 30 years later, she’s still tagging along. I really don’t like this woman. Not being judgemental, but she’s not exactly a soccer mom. Responsibility doesn’t stick to her very well.
I’m going to church again and re-establishing those relationships. I hooked up with a good friend, the one who housed me for three weeks. He was thrilled to hear from me and we’re getting together on Sunday for beer and other adult recreational devices. I found out my son has decided to play football again. He had his arm broken after the first game of his eighth grade season and was out for the rest of the year. He was bummed. But peer pressure can be a wonderful thing. His friends have been after him to join, so he gave in musch to my pleasure. I don’t live though my children. I reccognize their talents and try to encourage them. My son could do well playing football. Maybe not a college talent, but he could stand out.
The weekend turned out better than I expected, especially Sunday. That was the day we planned to tell the kids about the divorce (you know, whenever I type that word, I can’t help but do it with a little twang). I went over to the house after church. This is an activity I hadn’t taken part in for some time. God and I have had some intimate discussion over the past couple of months, but I decided to take it to a larger scale. Where wasn’t the question: it was the church I had been a member since 1986, the church where we were married and where both kids were baptized. But it was a place I had avoided since a huge fight amongst the members over the release of the associate minister and the pending repairs to the sanctuary ceiling. I had made the choice then, to not return there as my home of worship. We had talked about going somewhere else, but never was particularly motivated. I believe it was one of the factors in the demise of the marriage. My personal reason for not wanting to return was my feeling of disenfranchisement (?). I felt separated from the congregation while in the same room with my fellow members. Not wanting to feel isolated, I withdrew. But, since the separation, I felt the need to make my peace with my church. Needless to say, I was welcomed home with open arms.
Sunday is the day I’ve been dreading for some time. It is the day my wife and I tell the kids we are getting divorced. I’m planning to go to church before I go to the house. A little divine intervention never hurt. It’s been an okay week, though. I discovered I can’t watch a romantic movie without putting myself and my wife in the picture. This past Wednesday, I happened to be channel surfing while enjoying some 1-star pad thai, and I happened on “Sweet November” with Charlize Theron and Keanu Reeves. Plot summary: he’s a high strung mover/shaker, she’s got cancer with little time to live. He agrees to give himself over to her for one month. I’ve never seen the movie all the way through, but I know it’s a tearjerker. But I found myself thinking about my wife and remembering when love was fresh. There’s no baggage and everything is spontanious. I found myself breaking down and crying, thinking about what happens to some married couples: as their relationship progresses, that carefree attitude is lost amongst the bills, the appontments and the kids. I suppose it’s easy to project yourself into that scenerio and remember a time when love was enough to sustain the relationship. Here’s a thought: is love ever enough? Obviously, it’s not because if it were, then the divorce rate would plummet. Does painting the kitchen or fixing a leaky pipe negatively affect a marriage? In my case, it does or did. But she never said a thing. She knew I wasn’t handy. I guess she assumed that I would figure it out. Maybe that was the problem, she never said anything. No nagging or a subtle reminder.
So, now comes the time when the break the news to the kids. The wound has scabbed, but we’ve decided to pick at it. I’m hoping a giant hand comes down from Heaven, swats at us and commands, “Leave it alone. Let it heal.” The plan is for my wife to break the news. Her rationale is that since this is “her fault”, then she should break the news. She also has all of the coming week to deal with the fallout. What a nice way to spend you vacation. Maybe she’ll get a taste of what I experienced in July.
FOR THE READER: what would you do? As our COnservative Christian brothers and sisters would preach, the only family is one with a mother and a father under the same roof. But what happens when it all comes tumbling down? If Dad has to leave, but remains on good terms with Mom, what can you tell the kids? I know it’s not their fault and I hope they feel the same. But there has to be a void. I can feel it when I am in the house alone. I wander through the house and I can feel the emptyness. How can you replace that? It’s a tragedy, really. All because two people couldn’t communicate and now have to deal with the aftermath.
First, let me thank those of you who have read this long-winded piece of self-indulgence, and supported me through this tough time. I’ll have to spend some time and read your blogs, and send some love back to you. You only know me from what you have read, and I feel blessed to have you on my side.
It was a good weekend. I am writing at work (the only place I can access the ’Net), so I must be brief. I’ll fill in the blanks later. Saturday was a little slice of Hell, but from it came a bit of Heaven. It’s gotten to the point where I have been so stressed and overwhelmed that I reached my breaking point. Bawled like a baby, clutching a pillow and pleading to make it all stop. After what seemed an eternity, I fell asleep and awoke an hour later completely refreshed. Sunday was a good day. I spent it with the kids and the soon-to-be ex-wife. It was comforting to know that we could all be together and have none of the gloom and doom shadowing us. My wife and I had a good talk. She confided in me that she was ready for all the bullshit legal stuff to be over and done with so that she could have her friend back. I asked her if her friend had been here for her, and she responded, “no”. It was good to know that she still wanted to be my friend, even if she didn’t want to be my wife. Monday was spent with my therapist, rehashing the last two weeks. I had invited him to read my blog and he thought the ideas I was expressing were clear and well-written. He also complimented the response from the bloggers who offered advice (for them, I am grateful).
I’m in a good place, looking forward to the future, as uncertain as it might be. Let’s see what happens. I’m sorry I haven’t written much. That has some of you concerned. I’m okay..really.
It’s been a confusing couple of days. On Sunday, my wife and I agreed to meet to talk. I wanted to pick a spot with no emotional connection. I would hve never picked the beach where, in the shadows, we made love listening to the waves breaking, and the strains of “Hold On, I’m Coming” drifted across the water from a passing party boat. We met at a neutral beach where neither of us would think to spend a sunny afternoon. As I drove to meet her, I noticed the usual rumblings in my stomach were not as bad as they usually are. It’s easy to conclude that my levels of anxiety have begun to diminish with each stage of this separation. But I have noticed that it all comes in threes. First, the initial emotional shock and the waves of pain that is created. Then, the adjustment. You seem to be getting on fine, but a visual or aural trigger unleashes a burst of crying. This lasts maybe five minutes and you’re back to normal. Finally, there is the acceptance of the situation with a possible welling up but no outburst. But then the next stage developes and the whole process begins again.
Our discussion on Sunday took us to the next level: she wants to divorce. When the suggestion of a 3-month separation was proposed, I hoped that both time and her therapy sessions would help her realize that the marriage could be saved. But my wife told me that divorce was her intention all along. I let that sink in for a bit, then came to conclusion that maybe this was the best solution. I don’t believe that I am just giving in and letting her have her way. I came to realisation that what I brought to the table was unhealthy. I began to depend of her more and more for much of the responsiblity of our relationship. When I lost my job in 1998, I used the excuse of fear and uncertainty to heap the burden upon her. There should had been no doubt as to what I should had done: find anything to bring money into the house and keep everything going. In guy terms, I should have sacked up and be a man. That pattern carried over through the coming years where I just drifted further and further, leaving my wife to take over the majority of the responsibility. That’s also when my anger issues became a problem, isolating myself from my children who had grown to fear me, my outbursts and the angry expressions. As far as how we related, she feels that I should have been more sympathetic towards her when she was frustrated with work or stressed out from the thought of being trapped in her job. She believes that I should have just stepped up, gave her permission to quit her job and pick up the slack on my end. In our relationship, she has always earned more money that I did. My thoughts were that we, as partners in a marriage, each bring something to the table and take care of the everyday bills and such from there. But, according to her, she has resented the fact that she did make more money and felt pressured because of that. This was never an issue until she brought it up two months ago.
With all that said, should I attempt to share with her the information I uncovered about divorce. I spoke with a good friend, who happens to be a paralegal. She believes that this is nothing to rush into. If we are on good terms and have little assets to divide, why not stay married, live apart and let time do its thing. I would like to bring that to her, but I’m wondering if it will be a good thing or a bad thing.
So let me ask you: Is it a good thing or a bad thing if we decide to stay married but live apart? My wife is such a different person since I gave the divorce my blessing. We interact like close friends, something we haven’t been able to do for awhile. Leaving the sexual aspect of marriage behind, is it worth being friends and not being married? Should I be hopeful? I look at her differently, not as my wife but as my friend. I should have been comfortable enough, but I still break down when I speak with her.
Even though these words will unlikely be read, I secretly wish that someone would find them and offer some advice or comfort.
I feel like I’m locked away in solitary confinement. I can’t see my kids until Sunday. I don’t hear from my friends. I go home to my little room after work. Thank God I’m playing golf with co-workers today. Otherwise, I’d be in limbo. This SUCKS!!!
