Endings and Beginnings Again

When I started this blog, my roots in Belfast, ME, were deepening.  I anticipated happy changes.  My husband would retire in a timely way, and we would invest ourselves together in this New World, looking for it's history and habits and seeking ways to assimilate. We could come here with enough energy to begin again.

When it finally became apparent to me that he wasn't fully engaged in this next phase of our lives, together in the same state, the same town, the same house,  I came to see that we had grown too far apart in these ten years of living separately. Coming back together would require more work than my husband wanted to do. So he became my ex-husband this winter, a few weeks after our 36th anniversary.

A divorce is a kind of amputation. At the very least a huge wound. The healing, sadly, begins with the astringency of tears and the debriding of sobs. In my case, a shredding of ego.  This period is painful. But a relationship that was deformed is now removed, and the new limb, like the arm of the starfish, has budded.

I believe I am going to live. I can build a new life for myself that doesn't include him. I may even be open to a new love some day.  Ahead of me lies potential re-formation, and I will be grateful and allow it to happen as it will.