Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about beginnings, endings, and everything in between. I’ve realized over time that getting from point A to point B is never a smooth, straight line; instead, it’s curvy and jagged, and I can never find that darn ruler when I need it.
Twenty years ago, I married the person I loved. We met in the Caribbean, where we both lived and worked. Life was easy. The sun was always shining, we had money, and, well… we lived in the Caribbean.
We married and moved to Canada, my home. Shortly after moving away from our lovely Caribbean island, our relationship began to change, and life wasn’t as easy as it had been.
And so, it’s been 20 years of trying to make things work while having children, building a home, and growing roots, based on something that once was love.
As I’ve found out, love can mean different things to different people; if they don’t mesh, well, love can’t work.
So now I’m in the process of a divorce, and it got me thinking about the last 20 years and beginnings and ends and everything in between.
My first meeting with a lawyer was a discussion on what steps would be taken to end the marriage—kids, money, house, etc. I felt overwhelmed as I walked away; I could feel the ground beneath me shake. I could hear the crack of roots breaking away.
We sat our children down and announced our plans of divorce. I forced a smile as we explained to them that everything would be okay, that we were still a family. We watched as their tears fell. I could hear the roots again crack and squeal, and I felt an ache beneath my ribs.
Some people will tell you that divorce is easy, but those people haven’t been through a divorce. Divorce is not easy, especially if you have children.
So far, I’m proud of how my partner and I have handled the things that happen in a divorce, but I expect that it will get tougher and that I may not always be proud of us.
Soon, going from point A to point B won’t be as simple. Our family will be dismantled and rearranged. Like a mature tree in a storm, we will lose the battle, we will be uprooted, and we will fall.
We will crawl away from beneath the branches, find a cocoon, and fall apart for a bit.
And, while I have discovered through time that it’s what happens in between that matters the most, I’ve learned to love the beginnings and accept the endings.