The Great Divorce

Today marks the beginning of a new book. Fuck the new chapter. We are way beyond that. And yet I realized this morning how many ways this day resembled January 2, 1999. I went to sleep and woke up with a sense of anticipation and anxiety. I slept alone. I knew that today was significant. But what was life that day, was death this day. While I didn't see him that morning, I would never see him today. Never even hear his voice. Instead of preparing hair and makeup and fake finger nails, I wiped sticky mouths, packed lunches, and combed tangled hair...all the most beautiful parts of my life. I had one friend sitting with me where before five stood on either side. Today's oaths were sworn not before God, but man. Did I ask for this? Did I provide true information? Was I fair? Did I want this? I maintained direct eye contact with the woman I paid to ask me these difficult questions, until the last one when I felt my eyes drift up and to the right. When Judge Smith questioned me unexpectedly, my years of answering direct, difficult questions asked by demanding doctors or devastated family members proved useful. "Michelle is great in a crisis." "Michelle stays calm under pressure." Sometimes professional skills can be applied to one's personal life. And then, just like that, it was done. Thirteen years of knot-tying officially severed. For some, it is cause for celebration which I don't understand. I feel only a numb sense of closure. An ending woven from countless failures. And a beginning. Because life is never kind enough to allow us to wallow in our endings. Or maybe that is the kindness--the timeline that forces us forward. "The best way out is always through" and all that zen sort of crap. Big girl panties. Keep on keeping on. Or as God puts it: "and provide for those who grieve in Zion--to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and the garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair." (Isaiah 61:3) Now that's how you start a new book.