I’m divorced. Just like that. After nearly thirty-five years of being married, a judge signs the paper, and that’s that.
There was more to it, of course. Sparing the dreary details, I had wanted out for years but did not want to face up to it. I remember the day it became clear to me. The counselor sat next to me with her arms around me while I shivered and wailed that I wasn’t the kind of guy who left his wife. “I’m the guy who never quits! I’m the one who HELPS people. I don’t HURT them!”
It took a long time to follow through. I waited for the youngest to graduate high school. We separated a week later, and now as fall begins, we’re divorced.
Yet in recent days it has allowed me a glimpse, almost by accident, as if it were an elusive creature of the forest. I’m not even sure it has a word, but I’ll call it this for now:
|A Bornean Bay Cat