Pulling back the curtains

[tedwords]

“It takes a long time to grow an old friend.”

Today's Mother's day, and even though she's not my mother, my mind naturally turns to the mother of my children, Josie, and all the wonderful times we've had. 

I'm truly so grateful that through these years, we've managed to stay strong friends. As a matter of fact, she'll be coming over later today to play games and celebrate mom's day, along with the kids. 

How special it is that our love and friendship has endured all this time (more than thirty years!) and that Corb and I have had her in our lives and fighting the good fight together every step of the way. I remember once that Ashley once said, in a fit of annoyance, "Why can't you two hate each other the way most divorced couples do?" But I think, now that she is grown, she realizes the fact we didn't take that route was a better choice for everyone involved. 

I love you, Josie! And I know that you love these, so thought as my mom's day gift to you that I would dig into my vault and share some scribblings I put down, back in 2002 and 2010, that express a little of what you've meant to me through the years. 

******

Tuesday, Josie and I took the biggest step in our relationship we've taken in seven years.

That is, we signed our divorce papers.

It was an understated affair, conducted in the mahoganey-clad conference room of the attorney that's handling our mediated divorce. She's a chatty, short Greek woman, who never fails to tell us what nice people we are. Truth be told, she kind of irritates Josie, because anything you say, any sentence you utter, will lead her down the path of a long-winded story. Of course, I don't particularly mind that too much, because stories have always been my thing and storytellers are the best kind of people of all.

During the signing of the paperwork, Josie and I kept teasing each other. Even though I felt numb from the events of the past week, I still managed to tease her. At one point, she was signing her initials on all of the papers, and our attorney looked over at me. "Why haven't you signed anything?" she asked.

"She's hogging all the paperwork!" I said. "See, Josie, you're just not a very giving person. THAT'S why we're getting divorced!"

For the rest of the session, "that's why we're getting divorced" became our catch phrase. Even the attorney joined in, at one point.

"What a nice couple you are," she said again, and gave Josie a big hug. "Not every couple is so nice about this. That's good. Your kids are going to be okay, because of the way you're handling this. It's the couples who hate each other who end up with screwed up kids."

After the signing, Josie and I went out for breakfast. Josie had been the one to suggest it. "Go to breakfast with me," she said.

"I can't afford it, now," I said.

"I'll pay."

"Are you THAT happy to be divorced?" I asked, teasing her.

At the diner, we sat in squishy naugahyde seats, two old friends having breakfast together. Making small talk. Remembering.

“Last night I watched Amelie for the second time. Remember seeing that at the Cable Car in Providence all those years ago?”

Josie nodded. Of course she remembered.

There's one scene that I adore because there's a delightful element of incongruity--Nino Quincampoix is working at "Palace Video, King of Porno," and having a very tender discussion about Amelie, while surrounded by dildos that--I think--he was busy pricing. Nowhere are the dildos mentioned during the scene, of course, because in his world, this sea of substitute phalluses is just part of his scenery.

I think this speaks to the amazing ability we have to adapt and even thrive despite whatever life foists upon us. Humans are blessed with the ability to assimilate, to transform the uncommon into the everyday.

For example, a few years ago, Josie took a lampshade that we were going to throw away (because the lamp had been broken) and placed a painting her brother had created into the shade's middle, and mounted it to the wall. Voila. Instant painting frame. And we laughed and thought, "Isn't that funny?" and after a while, it was just something else we had placed on the wall. To someone visiting our house for the first time, it's going to take them aback. To us, it's just home.

Of course, this applies on a larger scale, as well. Heartaches come, we are taken aback, but we take it in, we move on. Children, lovers, friends enter our world--we marvel at their beauty, how they make us feel, how their laughter lights up our world, but gradually, even these things become more a part of our day to day and less a source of wonder.

Now that everything's signed, we go before a judge in about two months. And then, three months later, a new chapter of our life begins. Again.

And now it's ten years later, and new chapters are continuing to be written, because the only thing constant is change. Which is why it's sometimes important to pull back the curtains and glance anew at something you've now have learned to take for granted. And thank God that you've had it in your life for so long.