You are currently browsing the daily archive for January 21, 2009.

Our first meeting with the mediator is tomorrow, and I am finding the prospect terrifying and daunting, and certainly not liberating.  Pat accused me of still calling all the shots when he told me earlier this week that he doesn’t want the house (which he has allowed to fall into complete disrepair over the years).  I can’t sell it for so many reasons.  Russ doesn’t want to live in it, and I understand that.  But it is Kelsea’s home, and she is feeling left out in the cold (literally).  Pat says he doesn’t want the house to be part of his settlement.  So that means all he wants is money.  Fortunately, I don’t think it works that way, as both of our names are on the house – if neither of us wants to live in it, and we can’t sell it, then we split the responsibility – he can’t just shunt it off on me.  It hurts me, because I do love my little house and I wish it was cared for and loved by him.  It has always had character, and was so happy when we moved into it, and when we had Kelsea.

 

Sometimes I feel like all this is just too hard.  Obtaining one’s freedom and regaining oneself is very, very hard.  It’s funny, most women of my acquaintance, when they know what I am doing and going through, say to me as their parting words, “Stay strong.”  Those words mean a lot to me.  I remind myself of them hourly these days.  I am doing a big scary thing, with the hope that it will be better for me in the long run.  I miss the comforts of my cozy little house and the illusion that I was able to create for myself that I was being taken care of – I suppose I really was, in some regards.  I miss the little family unit that we had created with Kelsea, the dogs, the cats.  Even though it was so very dysfunctional between me and Pat, I miss it.  Certain aspects of it were quite loving, and I had taught myself to turn a blind eye and compensate in some exceptionally negative ways for the things that weren’t working, that made me feel bad or numb.  And now I am just sad.

 

It is hard to have two conflicting sets of emotions around this divorce. And I never thought I would get divorced.  It wasn’t something that I ever imagined happening to me, much less it being something I would initiate.  And layered on top of it all is the looming fear of losing my job.

 

Pat talks about just getting an RV and driving around the country.  Well, he needs an income, and he has a child who he claims is the most important thing in the world to him. That won’t work.  But if we are to share custody, we must work something out.  I had suggested leaving Colorado so many times, and he was always lackadaisical about it.  Now that the gravy train is fading from sight, he is willing to motivate to move, to do something different.  I certainly have no purvey over where he goes or what he does, but I’m not going to support a permanent vacation – I’ve been doing that for years.  It is wrong of me to say “You have to stay in Colorado”, especially when I am planning on moving to the islands in the next couple of years.  I suppose I am facing the fact that I have indeed called all the shots all this time, but only because he was unwilling to be my true partner – and now, I can’t call the shots.  Still, I expect him to not just take off on a purely selfish tack and expect me to accommodate his desires.  The primary thing we both need to consider is Kelsea.  The mediator is definitely going to have her work cut out for her.

 

An ignominious presidency and one that has left impressions on my mind that will never be shaken loose.

  • Three days before my Mother died, we moved her TV into her bedroom, as she was unable to get out of bed anymore.  After much fussing and adjusting, we got it into the proper position and turned it on to find 43 addressing the nation.  My Mother made a disgusted noise and said “Change the channel.  One of the great things about dying is that I’ll never have to listen to that idiot again.” 
  • 43 standing on the deck of the aircraft carrier under the sign “Mission Accomplished”. The irony of this statement continues to plague our country, as we continue to lose soldiers and face every day in Iraq.
  • The image of 43 holding a book upside-down, reading to a class of schoolchildren on 9/11.
  • Again, on 9/11, our nation’s fearless leader flying aimlessly around in Air Force One, as the rest of us suffered beneath him.
  • Coming to the realization, sometime after 43 was elected to his first term, that the reason he was elected was that he made every common man feel that if this guy of average intelligence and questionable business skills could be elected, then anyone could be elected. 
  • “You’re doin’ a hell of a job, Brownie” – juxtaposed with an image from Time Magazine of an elderly lady in a housecoat floating facedown, dead, in the water when the levees broke.  That woman was someone’s mother, someone’s grandmother.  Yep, that was a hell of a job.
  • One should not be bitter about the past, as bitterness is useless.  But it is so difficult to watch my meager retirement money, the small inheritance left to me by my Mother after her years of working and saving, my daughter’s college funds, dwindle away into nothingness because of the poor stewardship, blind eyes, selfish attitudes, self-serving actions, rampant cronyism, and blatant greed that has pushed our economy to its current state. 
  • An oilman tells lies to get us into a war over oil under the guise of democracy and freedom.
  • A shift in world opinion – the US is an arrogant, hostile, greedy young nation that does not play well with others.
  • A stolen election in Florida, with an ambitious, painted woman as the fall gal.  Coincidence that Florida was under the (albeit fairly positive) influence of 43’s brother?
  • An editorial cartoon shortly after 9/11 showing 43 calling Al Gore, saying, “That’s okay – it’s all yours.”
  • My erudite librarian Father’s humorous appreciation of “Bushisms”.  There were a few small books documenting them all that came out periodically over the past 8 years, and I got every one for him until he died.
  • Puppeteer Dick Cheney quietly, determinedly and sociopathically pulling the strings of this clueless façade of a leader.
  • The one positive note: when 43 addressed the nation after 9/11, we were like children looking to our father to help us feel better and make sense of a soul-shattering tragedy.  And that speech was one of the finest.  Whoever wrote it should have been nominated for a Nobel Prize.

 So many indefensible actions and decisions. Such a questionable legacy.  A legacy does not automatically imply good.  But one cannot change perception or history.

 

 

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