An Unlikely Event

It's taken me some time to write about this at any length.

A short while back, I attend a memorial ceremony. It was for my ex-husband.

I married him when I was 18 years old. We were married twelve years. The last five were very difficult; I would say we were married by law only. 

But I was raised to believe once married, always married.

He never hit me, though he came close. I was never afraid of him until one night toward the very end.

I learned you can't be married to someone who doesn't want to be married to you.

I know the exact moment God released me from that marriage. It was a revelation. I would have had serious doubts if anyone told me that God had released them from a marriage until it happened to me.

I'm not saying that I believed women who were being abused should stay in a relationship; I never believed that.

But I didn't consider myself in an abusive relationship. Others, after the divorce, told me differently. Many people felt he was abusive.

But you know how it is, you stay out of other's business.

All that was a long time ago. Husband and I have been married nearly 33 years. 

I was surprised at the grief I felt when  I learned that my ex-husband had been killed. Partly, I think, was that he was killed instead of dying from an illness or old age.

The sad parts were many. He died living in a homeless shelter.

He had alienated his family with his hate and his feelings of "you owe me" so badly that his cousin's wife called me and asked me could I tell her something good about him, because no one else could come up with anything.

He could shoot pool really well. Played the drums really well. He could dance. He was a sharp dresser. He was smart. If you were with him, you never had to worry about getting lost. He was like a homing pigeon, always knowing which way to go. 

All superficial things, but it's all I had.

She wondered if I had a photograph they could use at the memorial service. No one in the family had a single photo.

I cropped one of our wedding pictures, getting his head and shoulders. It turned out very nice.

A man, who had been my pastor for a few years, had been taught by me in Sunday School when he was eleven and twelve years old, said he would say a few words at the service if they needed someone, because he had some fond memories. The family appreciated the offer and took him up on it.

So the state of S. C. handed my ex-husband's ashes over to a cousin. They finally found his half-sister who gave them permission. They did the memorial service before their family reunion. That way, the cousin said, at least some family would be at his service. His sister didn't come.

It's all really sad, isn't it?

So I grieved. I felt sad. I also felt relief. I didn't have to worry about him approaching Daughter some day. Or knocking on my door. Or barging in on my Mother.

Because he would have thought nothing of doing those things. He just didn't have a way back home.

And now?

Is he Home?

I just don't know.

And that's the saddest thing of all.

Ambushed by a Broken Heart

Emotions amaze me.

Today I was in a Bible study, and during it, the youngest of us tearfully started telling us her husband of thirteen years had announced he wanted a divorce.

And suddenly, I was thrown back into my own history. The anguish, the grief, the suffering I went through many years ago when  my twelve year marriage finally broke, the last feeble thread fraying beyond any kind of recovery.

Tears sprang to my eyes as my heart rate sped up, my stomach churned and I began to shake. I thought I was going to start sobbing.

I pulled myself together because she is the one with pain in the present. Mine belongs in the past, and stays there almost always.

I truly thought I'd never feel that pain again.

After all, I have been re-married for nearly twenty-nine years. Husband is nothing like the one who really doesn't deserve to be called husband anything, even ex; he doesn't deserve the honor or title of that word.

I guess seeing that young woman's raw sorrow, the look that said, "I don't know what I'm going to do." broke my heart all over again.

And through my broken heart for her, I felt my own, where the scar lives. I may have healed, but the scar is there.

If you are a praying person, please pray for this young woman. She has a long way ahead of her full of the kind of misery you can't understand unless you have lived it.

Time will make her heal. Perhaps she'll find another man who will actually be a good man, a real "Husband", as I did.

But her scar?

It will be there forever.

How God Works Stuff

Several years ago the best thing I had going was my  job. I was well liked by staff, the community and clients. I had high ratings on my job performances and got good raises.

One day a new supervisor was hired. The first day he came 'over the mountain' to introduce himself, he didn't start out with "Hi, I'm blah blah, you're new supervisor. I've reviewed your job performances and can't wait to work with you."

Instead he said, "You aren't the person I want in this position. I want a person with a Master's Degree and I'm upgrading the position so you won't qualify. Start looking for another job."

I wasn't frightened, I was furious. I leaned over my desk and got right in his face and told him  more than a thing or two. I knew I had some protection from the Merit System.

I showed him the way out and got busy. First of all, I applied for that lofty position he was upgrading my job to. Figured it couldn't hurt. Then I talked to personnel in Atlanta, who said I did indeed have some protection, and although he could 'let me go' on grounds of my not qualifying, I could fight it and most likely the center would have to find a job for me.

Then, because I had over one hundred clients, I started telling them I might not be there much longer. One gentleman, whom I had been seeing weekly, took umbrage at this. He just happened to have a nephew who knew somebody who knew somebody in the governor's office. Who made a little call voicing their concern that a good employee would be treated in such a manner.

Making someone sweat is always good.

A week or so later I heard back from the Merit System and I had qualified for that lofty position! The look on my new supervisor's face was worth about a bazillion dollars. This, of course, made his stand of 'getting rid of me' much  more shaky, as now he had no real reason to do so.

Did I mention that he never came into my office alone again, after that first meeting? I think this good ole Appalachian woman scared the crap outta him. yay!

Anyway, to make this story a little bit shorter, the center wound up offering me a raise with a position of running an entire program and an opportunity to grow in my career, which I otherwise would have never had.

I took the job and wound up, for the last several years of my career, directing two county mental health centers.

And that supervisor I so told off? Well, he wound up in prison for child molestation. Ahhhh....

But none of this is my point. (What?? you say?).

This is my point. God's Hand was in every bit of this. My personal life was in terrible shape. My first marriage had been a sham for some time. I was never physically abused, but I was treated poorly, and let's just say I had a Biblical reason for divorce.

And I loved my new job. It made divorce easier.

I also got to know several good friends. And I  married one of them later.

He is my best friend. We've been married twenty-eight years. It's fun. It's a good run.

Husband is sixty-four today. He loves me, he takes care of me, we enjoy each other so much. Life is good.

See? God knew.

God always knows what He's doing.

So, to celebrate the happy ending to my bad spell in life, I say:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HUSBAND!  YOU ARE THE BEST!

circa 1985