And it was Fun

My greatest fear about separation was the impact it would have on my two younger children, and it is that impact that leads to me feeling sad and not always able to handle things so well. When my first marriage ended, my older daughters were around the same age, and when I married a second time, I swore that if I had more children, I would never put them through a divorce.

But things change.

I have enough experience to know that I should not take it personally when Sophia, my six year old, continually asks why I don’t love her daddy anymore. I also know I should not take it personally when she tells me she hates me. At least she is expressing her frustrations, and that is healthy.

But it still hurts.

I reassure her I love her, I maintain routines, and I keep things normal.

Earlier in the week, I found out her dad let her stay home from school for the third time in the last two months because he felt bad for her. I teach in an environment where students have gaps in their education due to missing school, and my research for my master’s degree focused on students who were often away from school. Needless to say, I was angry and told him he cannot be doing that anymore.

In time, things will sort themselves out. My older girls are resilient and have all done well in life, so I know that is the bigger picture for my younger girls. I need to be patient, have quality time with them, take interest in their interests, and keep encouraging them to be the best people they can be.

As for me, I am resilient as well, and I am adjusting to this change in life. Friday was the fourth start of five days without Olivia and Sophia, and it was the best I have handled it.

In the past, I blogged about my tears and being upset; this was the first time I did not feel down about them being away, mainly because I am learning to be comfortable being by myself.

On Friday afternoon, I decided to go see La La Land, and I did not know anyone who was interested, nor did I feel like contacting anyone, so I made plans to go by myself. I know that does not seem like a big deal to some people who are used to going to movies or other places on their own, but for me it was something I was not used to.

And it was fun.

I ate shrimp tacos, drank Coca-Cola and escaped into the beauty of the film.

I love the scene where Sebastian and Mia are at the observatory, and they float away and dance into the night sky. It reminds me of the scene in Kurt Vonnegut’s short story “Harrison Bergeron” where Harrison and the ballerina dance into the air, defying gravity, except it works out better for Sebastian and Mia who are able to float back down into their seats and continue with their romance.

Even better than that scene is the whole segment before the end of the film where Sebastian and Mia dance through an alternate journey of their lives, capturing happy moments that seem to stretch on forever.

I left the theatre in a few tears, because the film transcended my everyday life and I realized I witnessed something beautiful.

This weekend, I also watched Arrival and Manchester by the Sea. Both of those films also transported me to another place and touched me enough for me to cry. So, there were some tears this weekend, but not for myself.

As much as I enjoyed being alone this weekend, I appreciated my friends who contacted me. When I was married, my whole life revolved around my husband and my kids, so I did not take enough time to develop friendships; they mean a lot to me.

And now I’m crying . . . a typical weekend for me.

Take care everyone, and have a wonderful week.

 

About Life and Existence

Friday night was the start of another five days without my two younger kids, Olivia and Sophia. It was also the day I had to upload my financial disclosure for mediation, and the end of a hellish week dealing with real estate agents for house appraisal and fights about selling the house earlier rather than later.

All week, I have been having existential moments wondering about the whole purpose of life, my existence, and if any of it matters.

A few weeks back, I was feeling the same way, wishing I could fast forward my life two years, when things will settle, and all of this transitional phase will be gone.

A friend of mine told me to not wish the void of oblivion to come too soon. I thought about that, and I agreed that this can be a good place to be, as it is an opportunity to try new things in life, and grow in other directions.

So, I decided to take on a new hobby: I have been learning how to play some rock songs on the guitar. The fingers on my left hand are calloused, and it is fun. I have also been playing the piano again; growing up, I trained in Royal Conservatory, and I enjoy playing classical music.

I have also been drinking too much again, and I need to not do that, because it can be a dangerous way to fill my void.

On Friday night, a friend of mine called. We had plans to go for lunch on Saturday, but she had to cancel because she wasn’t feeling well. Then she told me that she hoped I would not be crying all weekend, like I blogged about a few blogs back. I told her I was feeling down, but I would be fine because I had plans to go out dancing with a friend.

Then another friend texted me, and she took some time out of her busy schedule to ask me why I was feeling down. It gave me another opportunity to talk, and I was grateful for that.

Dancing was fun, but I drank way too much, and was not in good shape the next day. I need to stop doing that.

About life and existence . . . I am thankful for my family and the opportunity I have to see my children grow and to see the world through their eyes with their sense of wonder.

I am thankful for my job and my amazing students who have struggled with issues relating to poverty, but still manage to come to school. On Friday, I started reading Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s short story “The Yellow Wallpaper” to my English 30 class. I love that feeling of having them hang on my every word, letting the madness of the story emerge, and hearing their passionate responses.

I am thankful for my friend who told me not to wish the void of oblivion to come too soon. I appreciate the patience with me, the ability to make me laugh when I am feeling down, the good advice, and all the fun.

I am thankful for all my friends in real life and my Facebook friends. Sometimes I get frustrated with social media; I don’t always like the immediacy of it and the exposure. . . . It kind of scares me, but I like seeing the various posts by my friends. Often, they make me laugh and think.

Going back to my existence . . . I matter because I am here, and for now, that’s good enough.