The Final Good Bye

 So, things just sort of happened.  My dog was rubbing his nose a lot.  I decided to take him to a vet. I decided to take him to the vet that saved his life up in Flagstaff.  Originally I was going to get up early Saturday, but by Friday I decided to go up that night.  And, well, the trip turned into a mini vacation.  

On Saturday I went up to the Grand Canyon to take care of one last piece of business from my old life I had left there.  It was good to get back, see my old haunts, walk my dog where we used to walk all the time, say goodbye again to my cat and my other dog that I lost there before moving out.  It was bitter sweet though, as it was always my ex-wife's territory.  She was the NPS person, I was just some random attached husband, and as our marriage disintegrated who knows what was said about me.  

Anyway, I took care of business (mostly), hit the old places, then went to the rim and said good bye.  On the way into Williams I did a lot of processing.  My hearts desire is that I truly 100% turn the page on that chapter of life.  Maybe because of the wounds I won't ever turn it 100%, and with my son I must deal with my ex.  But if I can get 99% of the way there, and leave it all behind, and not think on it again except very briefly, that would be great.

It has been four years.  I'd say the first year and a half were miserable.  The next year and a half I was functional but still pretty sad.  This last year, especially the last six months, I think I'm over it.  I've had time to reflect on my parts of the marriage's demise, prayed a lot, and owned that the old life is long gone, my son and my dog now the only legacy from that life.  

I'm glad God is generous to His creation, because part of this process of healing is owning that even though my ex did horrible things, I did as well.  Mine were more subtle, but just as evil or worse.  I failed to be the man I was called to be and love my wife sacrificially.  I think if I would have done that our marriage would have had a chance, and maybe some of the things she did wouldn't have happened.  I don't blame myself for her choices, but I'm just being pragmatic.  Maybe if I did everything right our marriage still would have died.  I'll never know.

Ultimately it was the greatest coldest betrayal I have ever experienced.  I was in shock for a long time.  I shouldn't have been.  I was blind.  

All water under the bridge, as life doesn't stop.  No do-overs or taking backsies right?  

Now the conflict is how much do I want to sacrifice of my remaining life for my son.  The no brainer answer is do whatever it takes, he is your kid.  I agree.  But I don't want to uproot what little life I have to move to shitsville to be near him more.  But I also don't want to be a uncle to him as others raise him.  And my ex is making decisions that I don't agree with in parenting.  So he could use my counter-influence.  In a few years he is per agreement going to spend most of the year with me and summers with his Mom.  I expect there will be reniging there.  

So I'm processing all this.  My head is at I wait for another year and he and I have one more summer together.  My lease isn't up and my job as a contractor will shake out next year.  Maybe after this one more summer I will move to where he is, and balance living it shitetown with living overseas for a few months of the year.  I shall see.  

I'm processing it all.  But I am starting to clean and purge.  I'm already pretty minimal.  I'm going to the absolute basics, and as things shake out with my job and lease, I might ditch it all and vagabond it for awhile, or if I'm in a six month lease somewhere then I will keep some furniture but ditch all but the absolute minimum, and I will live in the smallest cheapest place I can.  I don't need a lot of stuff or space anymore.  

We shall see what happens.

Flashback

The heat finally broke in the Phoenix metro.  I was outside, below 90, slight breeze.  It felt awesome.  I looked up at the clouds.  Two stars near each other were briefly outlined before some clouds obscured them, the stars reminding me of my dog Zoey's eyes.

Boom.  Instant flashback to four years ago. I am in my brand new class A RV parked near the national forest on the East Rim of the Grand Canyon.  I am outside enjoying the cool evening.  My wife and son are inside.  

I know my marriage is in trouble but have no clue how bad it is.  I have quit my job to watch my special needs son a few months earlier, liquidated my retirement, and bought this RV with the idea that when my wife changes jobs we will just "move our house" plus it is an adventure. Maybe it was sort of a last gasp for us.  My dog Zoey has cancer and has not long to live. My cat Niko will soon escape and be eaten by coyotes one night.  But that is later.

I sit under the awning of my RV and look up into the brilliant night sky.  I look at my son through the window into his bunk and wave.  

I think at the time I was desperate for some sort of peace.  I could tell the wheels where coming off.  I was so angry at the world and the politics going on at the time.  During that day I actually sat outside and got some peace.  I had a sort of Zen moment where I was listening to the wind whisper through the nearby trees and I relaxed.  It felt really nice.  After dinner I was hoping to repeat that.  Grab a few minutes under the stars.  I invited my wife outside but she declined, which actually was OK by me as I was enjoying just chilling alone.

It was nice, that day, and that night (might have been a few nights).  The RV seemed to be working out.  I was calmer.  My wife briefly seemed happier.  My son was doing his thing and I was taking him to day care which had reopened.  I had some time to myself.  It was the calm before the storm.

Then my cat Niko died.  Then Zoey died.  My wife started "hanging with friends" a lot after work down toward Phoenix.  Then she quit returning text and calls right away, even though I know she had her phone glued to her hand.  Our wedding anniversary came up, I wanted to go out, she declined.  More stuff.  I finally hand enough and we had "the talk".  Fast forward two months later I had moved out, the RV was in the process of being sold, and she was gone.  I offered to try counseling, but the answer was always the same, "not yet".  Then it was even on my end not ever.

But, even though that flashback hit me like a fierce blow, I appreciated the peace at the time.  A little grounding maybe, a little quiet, before the storm. Four long lonely years ago.