I figure as long as I’m getting stuff off my chest, I ought to get something off my chest about the XH . . .
Our divorce was civil . . . mainly because I chose for it to be so. Once the divorce papers were signed, I rarely heard from him . . . usually when he needed or wanted something from me . . . and me being the silly goose that I am, would do be nice because I thought that “down the road” he would do the same for me.
It was never anything serious or important . . . usually dropping off mail that got delivered to me by mistake. Forwarding phone messages for him that came in on the house phone. Notarizing something or the other for him or a friend of his. I wouldn’t drop everything and run the minute he asked but I would find a convenient time to complete the task. Again, thinking that someday the favor would be returned to me.
Fast forward three years . . . to the day Prince Charming died . . . I had gone to the little town where Prince Charming and I grew up to tell the families the bad news. At one point, I realized that I needed/wanted to get home . . . to feed the doggies and to get away from everyone and try to make some sense of what had happened. My mom (bless her heart) didn’t want me to leave and said that maybe XH would go let the dogs out and feed them supper (both dogs were “his” dogs but I got them in the divorce – long story for another day!). In my heart, I hoped that he would agree to do this favor for me but, in my head, I knew that he probably wouldn’t. After all it was Monday night and he was at the bowling alley and, well, nothing interrupts bowling night!
I was right . . . XH couldn’t/wouldn’t/didn’t want to go let the dogs out. He was at the bowling alley. And he didn’t have a key to the house anymore. It was almost as painful to watch my mother’s heart break when he told her “no” as it was to tell her about Prince Charming’s accident.
A couple of weeks later, I had an opportunity to talk to XH . . . he needed me to notarize something (and yes, I agreed to do it only to ask him about the house key) and I told him he DID still have a key to my house because I still had a key to HIS house (which his current wife was totally surprised to learn). When he discovered that, in fact, he DID still have a key to The Little House . . . the look on his face was priceless . . . and the look on mine was complete and utter disgust . . .
What I wanted to say . . . but didn’t . . . and probably never will is this . . . I stood by your for 28 years. I dealt with a vindictive ex-wife and two step-children who saw us as their personal ATM. I tried to tell you that following your “dream” of “retiring” to build your own small business would bankrupt us (it did). I worked two jobs, took care of our house, and helped take care of MIL and her house to help make that dream come true. I helped you take care of both your parents when they were sick. I gave up more vacation, sick, personal time that I can ever count to take MIL to various doctors appointments; sit in hospital waiting rooms for tests, procedures, and surgeries over the 13 years she was sick and most of the time was there ALONE and most of the time they thought I was the daughter not the daughter-in-law. I stood by your side while you buried both your parents. Hell, I was the one that had to tell him his mother had passed away . . . and he couldn’t be bothered to do one little favor for me on the absolute worst day of my life.
There’s a song titled “Someone That I Used To Know” and that’s exactly how I felt that day . . .
He’s never mentioned Prince Charming’s death. He’s never texted or checked on me to see how I’m doing. Except for the one time he needed me to notarize something and one time he had a question about our past bankruptcy, I haven’t heard a peep out of him. He’s one of those people who is going to disappear out of my life until he things everything is “back to normal” . . .
What he doesn’t realize is that nothing will ever be “back to normal” . . . especially the person he thought he used to know . . . and this new person has no desire to ever know anything about him . . .