The world should have divorce funerals, like a wedding, but the opposite. It would be a way to honor the end of a relationship, whether the relationship ended amicably or badly. There is a Netflix series Uncoupled about an Indian couple divorcing. They had a ceremony with friends and family that "celebrated" their amicable separation. For those that have difficult or toxic relationships end, there can be an event without the other spouse present.
I wonder if this would provide a healthy sense of closure, and allow us to wish our ex-spouses well. My friend has been divorced for three years, and she just heard word that her ex is doing remarkably well. He got sober and has a great new job and a stable girlfriend. I was like "Oh my god isn't that just the worst! He finally got his head out of his ass after you divorced him? Why couldn't he do that when you were married?"
Her reply: "I am happy for him."
And she was, no bullshit. My greatest fear is that my ex would do a 180 after I got divorced and all of the things that used to bug me about him would be resolved, that he would see the light. So why is that my fear? Shouldn't I just wish him well and hope his life goes well? I don't wish him misery or to fall prey to alcoholism and disaster. Even without me in his life, I wish him well.
The hardest part of divorce for me is Saturday nights. Saturday nights are like a weekly Valentine's Day, where people couple up. For a middle aged woman like me, a majority of my friends are either married or dating or have children at home. Every other day or night of the week is open for friends. Not so much Saturdays.
I need to get over my freak out about Saturday nights, and just view it as a regular time. Sometimes I have plans, but not always. The ironic part is so often the rest of my week is jam packed, that Saturday nights are the few times I have to spend by myself. I should enjoy this time to work on projects or cook or read or make a fire or take a bath and just relax. See? Doesn't that sound nice? Why do I need to convince myself of that? I've actually had fun going to dinner alone, sitting at the counter. I've met some interesting folks, many visiting Seattle from out of town.
On another note, this afternoon I bought some art at the gallery in my neighborhood.
Because I wanted to.
Because my dad said I should treat myself.
One painting reminds me of my mom. It is a really cool picture of flowers scanned and called "Remembering Grandma." When I saw the picture online, I immediately knew I wanted it, both for the picture and the title.
The other painting, "Nesting in Red," resonated with me and my new life after divorce. It is a monolith, where the artists creates a painting on plexiglass, and then puts paper on top and sends it through a press. (Watch the artist in action in the video at the bottom of the page.) This is process super risky -- the result after pressing the plexiglass and the paper together could be beautiful or a mess. So much like life, eh? This painting has a red background with a cheerful yellow and black bird near a flower arrangement. I feel like I am the bird, floating in space. I can't tell if the bird is coming or going, giving or taking. Maybe I am the bird. A friend of mine said after her sister died at too young of an age, that even though she was grieving, the birds were still singing. Divorced or married or single or whatever, I am still me. I am still moving and breathing and living.
Just like the bird.
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