Already Gone

Yesterday I was driving home from an adventure in Capitol Reef National Park and had about 4 hours of solitude on my motorcycle to my thoughts. (lots more information and photos about that in my next post!)

This song came on and I let my mind wander where it always does when I hear this song - from my wonderful mother, through the courtship of my first husband, and then finally to the day we signed our divorce paperwork.



I know this is probably too personal for a blog, but it's been on my mind, so now (of course), it's on here.  I was remembering the Wednesday evening we signed and what an unusual chain of events.

We met at the location of the notary after work, exchanged pleasantries, and quickly signed our final decree of divorce.  There were a few terse moments as we both reviewed it one last time (as I was thinking, "Oh dear God, I am giving him everything I own" - although he was probably thinking the same) and then inked this all too important contract.

As we walked out, he said, "So what's next for you?".  I didn't know if he meant in life or for the night so I replied, "I am picking up a new chair I bought for the living room - it appears I no longer own a piano and need to fill the space".  He laughed and offered to help put it in the car for me, which seemed surreal but okay.  He followed me to the furniture store and helped me load the chair in the back of my car, then asked me if he could buy me dinner.  I decided that since I suddenly had half as many assets as I woke up with that morning, I would let him buy me dinner.

We grabbed Cafe Rio, which was located nearby and chatted like the old friends that we were/are.  We caught each other up about everything that had happened with work, friends, and family in the months since I had moved out - although carefully avoiding any divorce-related talk.

It was comfortable and okay, without fighting for the first time in a long time, as we no longer had any skin the game - nothing to lose.  Neither his poor decisions nor my impatient nature mattered at that time because we knew when we walked away, it would be over for good.

Once dinner was over, I took the chair to my home (which he was in the process of moving out of the next weekend) and he helped me unload it.  And every time I hear this song, I will think about driving away that night, as he was on the front porch, waving before he went back inside to work on packing again.  I had already cried so much that I didn't cry once that day, but instead finally felt the peace I had craved for a long time - which confirmed what I already knew was the right decision.

Life is so interesting.