When you're married into an Irish/English family and your husband is straight-off-the-boat from England, you learn how to incorporate Brit slang into your life. Our children pronounce garage ''ga-rage'', my daughter says, ''plaaaaants'' when referring to plants (she loves gardening), the garbage pail is the ''bin'', dessert is ''pudding'', and when we go on vacation it's called a ''holiday''. That last one really seems non-sensical to me, because a holiday is a special day and a vacation is a vacation. They are two different animals. Nevertheless, since our children are being raised as Americans, we both agreed they would have British culture in their life, and their vocabulary is a way of doing that. Although I am still mystified as to why British people don't refrigerate eggs...
Anyway, we have just returned from our beach holiday to the Gulf of Mexico in Florida. It was a 10 hour drive each way, and the children were amazing. They didn't even have a tablet or any technology, they just played ''Rock, Paper, Scissors'' and ''I Spy'' and read and listened to music the whole time. One day my goal is drive them across the country for the summer, stopping and staying with family and friends along the way.
Back to our holiday: It was beautiful, amazing, relaxing, and, also, bittersweet. I mean, it's our last holiday as a married couple. We have agreed we will continue to go on vacations together as a family, albeit perhaps not as far-flung, so our children have memories of vacationing all together. But it obviously won't be the same as if we were married. And this time next year Sally or Rupert (my husband and I's names for our imaginary future spouses) may be in the picture, it may get awkward, etc.
Our second to last night I said, ''Let's go to 7-11, pick up a couple of beers, and go night swimming!''.
Sounds fun, right? I used to do it all the time when I was a teenager, and it has remained one of my favorite memories of being young. Well, younger.
''I don't really want to sit on sand drinking out of a can when I can be sitting at a bar instead. We're not 20 anymore, you know''.
''We aren't 100, either'', I replied. Ugh. Live a little. Whenever I meet Rupert, I will have to ask from the onset, ''So, what are your thoughts on night swimming?''. Because, you know, priorities.
The next night was our last night and I was able to persuade him to at least drink a beer down by the beach at night. He wouldn't go night swimming...too immature.
There wasn't a soul around, and it was pitch black, save for a blanket of stars and the moonlight. I thought maybe he would say something like, ''Why don't we give us more chance?'', or ''I will do whatever it takes to keep you, if that means going back to marriage counseling, I'll do it'', or even, ''If I agree to adopt Poe and promise to be more attentive to you, will you consider staying?''. But he didn't say any of those things. In all honesty, I am happy he didn't, because it would have just clouded my judgment. But if there was a time and a place to say any of those things, that was it, and if it didn't happen then it will never happen.
Earlier that day on the beach, we were checking out bikini-clad women together. ''What about her, she's cute'', I'd say. You know your marriage is totally over when you are helping your husband check out bikini-clad women on the beach during your family vacation. Not to do anything with, but just to ''see who's out there''. I did not possess an iota of jealousy. None whatsoever. In fact, I will feel comforted when he finds someone, because it will absolve me in some way of my guilt of being the driving force behind us ending our marriage.
I loved our beach holiday, but couldn't help feel sadness, too. I remembered all of our fun trips together as a couple, and this was our last one. It felt weird. I thought I would almost back out of the whole thing, even. But I didn't. Because I know it's the right thing to do. I know change is hard, and growth is harder, and I cannot let that waver my path. I also know that I have a survival instinct deep within myself, so strong that it has helped me survive a dysfunctional childhood, a plethora of family losses, even cancer. It will help me survive a divorce, too. In fact, on the scale of things, a divorce will probably be my easiest challenge yet.
''I thought the world of you. I thought nothing could go wrong, but I was wrong''. Link below to ''Linger'' by The Cranberries.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G6Kspj3OO0s
Anyway, we have just returned from our beach holiday to the Gulf of Mexico in Florida. It was a 10 hour drive each way, and the children were amazing. They didn't even have a tablet or any technology, they just played ''Rock, Paper, Scissors'' and ''I Spy'' and read and listened to music the whole time. One day my goal is drive them across the country for the summer, stopping and staying with family and friends along the way.
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Back to our holiday: It was beautiful, amazing, relaxing, and, also, bittersweet. I mean, it's our last holiday as a married couple. We have agreed we will continue to go on vacations together as a family, albeit perhaps not as far-flung, so our children have memories of vacationing all together. But it obviously won't be the same as if we were married. And this time next year Sally or Rupert (my husband and I's names for our imaginary future spouses) may be in the picture, it may get awkward, etc.
Our second to last night I said, ''Let's go to 7-11, pick up a couple of beers, and go night swimming!''.
Sounds fun, right? I used to do it all the time when I was a teenager, and it has remained one of my favorite memories of being young. Well, younger.
''I don't really want to sit on sand drinking out of a can when I can be sitting at a bar instead. We're not 20 anymore, you know''.
''We aren't 100, either'', I replied. Ugh. Live a little. Whenever I meet Rupert, I will have to ask from the onset, ''So, what are your thoughts on night swimming?''. Because, you know, priorities.
The next night was our last night and I was able to persuade him to at least drink a beer down by the beach at night. He wouldn't go night swimming...too immature.
There wasn't a soul around, and it was pitch black, save for a blanket of stars and the moonlight. I thought maybe he would say something like, ''Why don't we give us more chance?'', or ''I will do whatever it takes to keep you, if that means going back to marriage counseling, I'll do it'', or even, ''If I agree to adopt Poe and promise to be more attentive to you, will you consider staying?''. But he didn't say any of those things. In all honesty, I am happy he didn't, because it would have just clouded my judgment. But if there was a time and a place to say any of those things, that was it, and if it didn't happen then it will never happen.
Earlier that day on the beach, we were checking out bikini-clad women together. ''What about her, she's cute'', I'd say. You know your marriage is totally over when you are helping your husband check out bikini-clad women on the beach during your family vacation. Not to do anything with, but just to ''see who's out there''. I did not possess an iota of jealousy. None whatsoever. In fact, I will feel comforted when he finds someone, because it will absolve me in some way of my guilt of being the driving force behind us ending our marriage.
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| I live my life by the adage, ''Fall seven times, stand up eight'', except for when I have already fallen down three times and am recovering from a broken wrist. Then it's ''Fall down three times, stand up two times, and paddle your ass back to shore safely on your knees.'' |
I loved our beach holiday, but couldn't help feel sadness, too. I remembered all of our fun trips together as a couple, and this was our last one. It felt weird. I thought I would almost back out of the whole thing, even. But I didn't. Because I know it's the right thing to do. I know change is hard, and growth is harder, and I cannot let that waver my path. I also know that I have a survival instinct deep within myself, so strong that it has helped me survive a dysfunctional childhood, a plethora of family losses, even cancer. It will help me survive a divorce, too. In fact, on the scale of things, a divorce will probably be my easiest challenge yet.
''I thought the world of you. I thought nothing could go wrong, but I was wrong''. Link below to ''Linger'' by The Cranberries.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G6Kspj3OO0s
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