Saying Goodbye

Posted on | September 27, 2011 | 9 Comments

I did my research.

I spent time on Saturday looking online and making a few phone calls.  I took notes and even made a pros and cons list. I took my time, spending the afternoon out in the yard, mulching and planting and thinking it through.  J and I went out to Target and I talked to him about it, walking him through what I was thinking and asking his thoughts.

I did my research.

And on Sunday afternoon, we piled into the car and drove a very short distance to a very small store.

I parked in the nearly empty parking lot and sat there for a moment, staring across the road at a guy standing on the corner, twirling an “eat here” sign around his head and waving at cars.  I sat there and collected my thoughts, spinning them around and around, a full circle of memories.  The sun was bright in the sky, beating down through the haze… it felt wrong.  Maybe I should come back another day? The sunshine just felt wrong.

In the backseat, a little voice pipes up.

“I go too?”

And so I moved, sliding out of the seat and into the last days of Georgia summer. Around the back of the car to his door and then back again, slowly pounding the pavement between the parking lot and the glass front door.  I had to wait for the saleslady to open the door, a moment of pausing that almost had me turning back. But we pressed on, lingering over the small table of toys until J was comfortable enough for me to move on.

Ten minutes… no more.  Just ten short minutes.

And then we were back out in the clouded hum of September.  Ten minutes and we were both safely buckled in the car.  Just the two of us.  Nothing more.

The circle that once symbolized everything I stood to gain was gone, replaced by two bright blue orbs and a boyish grin.

I no longer need a band of misused gold to remember what was good about my marriage.

There were no tears to cry when I deposited the check into my bank account, padding the balance for necessities.  There was no second guessing my decision, no worrying that I had done something foolish.  It was just a ring, cut to match the diamond he gave me as a symbol of his undying love.  It was just a ring.

Still… I was glad when the rain came.

Comments

9 Responses to “Saying Goodbye”

  1. Jana Anthoine
    September 27th, 2011 @ 7:47 am

    What a big step… and one that will likely begin to bring you peace. ((hugs))

  2. Heather Griffitts Clark
    September 27th, 2011 @ 11:02 am

    ((((hugs))))

  3. Mom-nom
    September 27th, 2011 @ 12:04 pm

    Love you. xo

  4. Anonymous
    September 27th, 2011 @ 2:04 pm

    I go too is the reason I do most things lately.

    Love you.

  5. molly
    September 27th, 2011 @ 2:09 pm

    You are an amazing writer, my dear. I am so glad to “know” you. I take comfort in your strength as a mother to do the best she can for her son.

  6. Jennifer Williams
    September 27th, 2011 @ 6:39 pm

    I know this probably sounds completely wrong, but… I’m glad. I’m happy you’ve gotten to this point and that you had the strength to do this.

  7. Alecia
    September 28th, 2011 @ 9:13 am

    Hugs to you. I can’t pretend to know the courage and strength that took. It’s a step forward….maybe you don’t know the direction you are headed yet…but you took a step forward. Hugs
    Alecia

  8. Chunky Mama
    September 28th, 2011 @ 3:08 pm

    I think it’s really amazing that you did what you needed to do. My mom did the exact same thing after she split from my dad. And she never once regretted it.

  9. C Lo
    September 29th, 2011 @ 11:36 am

    I did that too. And I was far more rushed and impulsive. I think if I would have thought about it even for a second, I would have not done it. I just woke up one morning, grabbed it out of a drawer and went in. They gave me a fraction of what I knew was paid for it and practically speaking I should have sold it elsewhere. Craigslist or something. But…..that wasn’t really the point.

    Walking out of the shop I had one of those rare moments of feeling tremendously, completely free. One of the best things I ever did.

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