Goodbye

It isn’t any big surprise.

I knew it would be this way.

We had a meeting with the immigration attorney, preparations our April 15th interview with the INS folks in our attempt to get Jeremiah his U.S. permanent residence. It is a sticky mess, and there aren’t any certainties about getting him a “green card” and then, perhaps, citizenship five or six years later.

I drove. I patted Brenda on the knee as part of our “light” conversation.

I know her so well. Her reaction, or lack of it. The way she avoids looking at me, her excessive need of late to come over and do “mom things”, told me what I suspected.

She fixed a simple dinner for us (mac & cheese, corn, baked chicken) and she started washing the dishes. I told her to let Isaac do it, that I wanted to talk to her.

“You’ve been in contact with John, haven’t you?”

It was more of a statement than a question.

“Yes.”

“I thought so...

“OK... Could you go by the courthouse tomorrow and pick up the paperwork?”

“OK.”

“And see if you can locate a quit claim for the house.”

“OK.”

“I’m sorry it has come to this.”

“So am I. I really didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Well, let’s try to do this right. Let’s try to be kind to each other. Let’s try to make it through this and still be friends.”

“I’d like that... I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”

“No, it’s my fault too. I’m sorry I couldn’t be what you wanted in a husband. I guess I’m boring, like you said: ‘You’re a good man, and good is boring.’”

“No. I’ve been blaming you all these months and it has been me. I have made bad choices. I have been in the wrong. I just can’t stop thinking about him. I’m sorry.”

We went on like that for a little while. Promising that if things start to get rough on either of us, if we start to get angry, or excessively hurt, we’ll just walk away for a little while until we can talk to each other with kindness, gentleness.

So, it is over.

We are going to file for a divorce.

She loves someone else, she can’t stay true to her word of staying away from him. We have not been sharing each other’s hearts, and burdens, and dreams, and desires as a married couple should, as a married couple must.

We are going to do our best to be friends. After all, we have been best friends for a very long time. We have spent the last 28 years together.

I wish it wasn’t so. But wishing does not change the universe. Wishing won’t change her heart.

She says I have been extremely kind and generous.

I responded by saying she has been extremely fickle.

We smiled a little, hugged a little, even kissed a little. We really do love each other in a certain way. Just not the way that will maintain a marriage.

After the emotional stuff, after the talk about how to gently wean the boys from her frequent visits helping with cooking, shopping, and such, gradually preparing them for the reality of our future, we gave a few hugs, a few squeezes... small signs of affection which indicate how hard it is for both of us to admit where we really are... after all that we let each other go.

At the door I thrust my right hand out to her for a firm hand shake and said “Good luck to you,” the way a prospective employer might after just telling an interviewee that they aren’t quite right for the job.

I wore a small smirk, and she burst out laughing.

We gave each other a deep, long hug. Said goodbye.