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:
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| A Bornean Bay Cat http://phys.org/news/2011-01-wild-cat-thought-extinct-borneo.html |
Deep Calls 
Hope does not put us to shame. Hug.
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Yes.
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Churchill was wrong. There is a time to give up. I'd say that after 35 years you gave it a respectable try. You will continue to be the guy who helps people, and you can help them better when you are not hurting your own self.
Found a copy of an old letter I wrote to Nana dated Saturday September 30, 1961: “Davey is home now. He is little. I got to hold him. He is a good baby.” If you never do another kind deed, you'll still be a good man.
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I was five days old on that day. I can actually remember being held by my big brother on several occasions. Thank you, Mark.
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