It Was Easy-Japanesey

I'm not sure that the ex and I have broken up yet. Oh, we're divorced all right, and have been for months. But broken up? You be the judge.

This morning I got a call from him. He'd received a text from his sister-in-law about plans on Friday. Though her text didn't say it, the plans involved a birthday party for her son that she wanted our kiddo to attend. (She'd also texted me about the plans to clear them with me since this coming weekend is my weekend with kiddo.)

He started out by explaining he'd received a text and that the text was speaking of Friday, and before he began explaining that he was calling to ask if I knew what the hell the text was about, I had already started laughing and told him what was going on. I then kidded him about his pride about not wanting to text her back and ask. He admitted that yes, she'd spoken to him about it this weekend but for the life of him he couldn't recall what she was talking about. So I laughed again and then said to him, "So this is how it is, hm? We're divorced and you still depend on my memory as your day planner?"

He said, "Well, yeah. You're still my default wife!" We laughed a few more minutes together and then said our goodbyes. But in the way of things like this, the conversation brought to focus a lot of the things I've been thinking about the last couple days.

I knew what he'd done and why he was calling before he had to explain. He wasn't insulted by my disparaging comments about his memory or by the fact that I took pleasure in pointing out that he'd lived up to my expectations of such. It was a conversation of acknowledgment of who and what we were, and of understanding and acceptance --and yes, affection -- for those idiosyncrasies.

I miss that, you know; the "being known" part. That part of the intimacy of being married was what held the most meaning to me and I don't think I fully understood the entirety of its value to me when I was in the thick of it -- when we were more sharply reminded of the needs that we couldn't meet for each other and forgetful of the things that we already had. I would be foolish to forget that we both sacrificed things when we divorced though I suspect that neither of us wagered on the strength of this one.

I hope that we don't lose that "being known" feeling that it took us so very long to build. So far we haven't, but very little time has passed. No one has replaced me for him or vice versa. Not even Yo, which is assuredly the reason she thinks of him as her Mr. Big (a topic for another post for sure!) I just know that of all the things I have gained and have lost, missing this sense of belonging is the hardest of all my pills to swallow.

Not to say that my gains haven't been good ones. When the ex and the kiddo were driving home from visiting me at the ER (I was having some sort of racing pulse/warm feelings/slight confusion issues, story not really necessary here) the ex said that the kiddo told him something. She said she was getting over her low self-esteem and she was really liking her life, as well as realizing she loved her mom, and that she never realized her mom was such a cool person.

That meant a lot to me. But I couldn't resist it; when the ex called to tell me that, I told him, "You mean all I had to do to get my daughter to appreciate me was to leave?"

We both chuckled but you know, maybe there's more truth in there than I realize. You don't really appreciate things until you can no longer take them for granted. She and I can get along on a different level now that I'm not the one riding her ass constantly about every little decision or move she makes.

I readily admit that I was doing just that. I always have tried to exert control over my environment and I doubt I'll change on that score anytime soon. I tried to stop that with her in particular, telling myself it was best for her if I didn't. I didn't do a very good job. It's not in my nature. So it's probably better that she lives with her dad, where he lets her make more of her own decisions and live with the consequences they render. She'll be all the more mature and capable because of it.

I won't know how good my decision truly was for a while yet, but maybe I'm starting to catch some small glimpses of it even at this juncture. That is a comforting thought.

((Song: "I Got The Drop On You" by Mike Doughty. Lyrics here:
http://www.mikedoughty.com/music/lyrics/123 ))