Tonight is my last night as Mrs. Shenanigan. In less than twelve hours a judge will sign and stamp paperwork and declare my marriage irretrievably broken.
Broken. That about sums up how I feel.
This weekend Husband and I took the kids to the zoo for a zip lining adventure. I was thrilled that he and I were in an emotional place where we can do what we do best – enjoy our kids. While we were walking into the zoo, each holding a hand of our sons, my cell phone rang.
“How soon do you want to get this thing done?” the case worker from the court house said.
I stammered. I was with my family, happy and together and I had to schedule a court date for my divorce.
“How’s Tuesday?” he asked after my silence.
“Uh, sure. Fine. Email me the details?”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and blinked away tears as my boys were fitted with their zip lining harnesses.
I kept on a smile that didn’t meet my eyes and hid my face behind my camera, snapping picture after picture of my two sons.
I spent the days since trying to reconcile the feelings I’m having. This has been an arduous process and I’m glad it is almost over. Yet I’m still in disbelief that this is really happening.
Many friends have asked if I’ll celebrate when this is over and my answer is a resounding no. No matter the reason, divorce is sad. Divorce is akin to death. Death of a dream, of a lifetime of hopes built around another.
I will look to the future, anticipating the wonders it holds for me. I will love my children with the same ferocity as always and I will eventually heal.
Tonight I will try to sleep, and likely fail. Tomorrow I will leave the courthouse and allow my emotions to wash over me. I will mourn the loss of a great love.
I have no more words.