Chapter V - Serendipity

Webster’s Dictionary defines ‘serendipity’ as “the gift of finding valuable or agreeable things not sought for”. It is a simple and underrated little explanation for what was to become a wondrous and exciting journey toward my destiny, an adventure I could never have predicted.

The revelations revealed after my little undercover and surveillance operation convinced me that divorce was no longer an alternative but a must. I had up to now resisted the notion of the big “D” because I deeply believed that it really meant failure. Facing the fact that I had failed in my marriage no matter how many years had gone by was difficult. While I was deeply angry with Jim I did not want to blame him entirely. This failure was my fault as well. Over the last 2 or 3 years I took things for granted, believing everything was fine and that I didn’t need to work keeping our marriage alive and well. It was a fatal miss-step and I was responsible for it as much as he. The other fact was that I still deeply loved Jim which made it even that much harder. There was nothing left to do but to try and pick myself up, dust myself off and move on.

By August I was still struggling financially though not destitute. I still did not have a goal other than to wait until next March to file for divorce as I was determined to use the law of desertion for a ‘cause’ as my platform. I hoped that this would give me some leverage to get what I wanted, mainly to keep the house somehow and to force him into giving me some financial compensation such as alimony in the process. But now I had another problem to contend with.

My stringent budgeting was working and I was doing just fine in keeping up with the monthly bills, not getting behind but having very little left over for savings. My bank account was down to less than $500.00 which wasn’t very much for emergencies. But it was helpful and a small cushion that had been mostly provided by Ann who had insisted on giving me a check for just such purposes. More and more I was indebted to my friends and so thankful to them for their never ending help and support. Without my ‘sisters’ I didn’t think I could have handled the emotional despair and continued depression I dealt with day after day. My children were also my rock and the reason I refused to give up. In their eyes I wanted so much to be strong and resilient. I would never let them see me down. I was determined to make it through this and my life. But with each seeming victory to overcome my insecurity about my money situation it seemed fate was determined to hand me more problems to deal with.

First there was the tire incident. I was driving through town one Saturday afternoon when I was flagged down by another car. A nice lady and her passenger informed me that the right front tire on my SUV was going flat. Pulling over I got out and verified the problem. Bowing my head I nervously tried to think while also whispering why me. Two voices entered my head at that moment. The first was my mother’s. “Crying isn’t going to fix it! Just deal with it!” She always had a way of getting to the point. The other was Joy’s. “Whine, whine, whine…You want some cheese with that?” Another country heard from and the sure fire voice of humour which I needed at that precise moment! How I wished that these two had met. I would have never stood a chance to complain about anything with them both standing on either side of me constantly.
Sighing, I stood and assessed the situation. I was close to Cinnaminson, NJ which is a small town in southern New Jersey and near my own home, and I knew there was a tire dealership nearby on the same side of the road I was already on. From previous experience I knew it was not a good idea to drive too far with the tire in its present condition but I did not want to call for a tow truck as that would have been costly and I did not have the advantage of affording triple A. I would have to take the chance and drive there slowly.
The personnel were extremely helpful and took my car in for inspection immediately. Unfortunately the diagnosis was not good but repairable. The tire had shredded on the inside. I must have picked up a rather large nail somewhere and it rattled around on the inside. It could not be patched. The entire tire would have to be replaced. This was an SUV that was only a year old! I had less than 10,000 miles on it! One tire would cost over $150.00 plus there would be the cost of labour and the balancing. Thank goodness for the emergency fund! While I waited, I took the opportunity to call Ann on my cell phone and in tears I thanked her profusely for making me take the check she had offered me months ago and that I had been reluctant to take. Had I not had that little extra I don’t know what I would have done. Not to seem paranoid (which I really am not…maybe) but I always wondered if Jim had not somehow been responsible for this little disaster. But that would be cruel and so unworthy a thought. Surely I couldn’t start blaming him for every little problem I was having, could I?

My next two problems, yes TWO, involved the heater in the house and the Willingboro Tax assessor. In a month would be the beginning of Fall and then colder weather. Wouldn’t you know it, the heater had a major crack in it. I noticed this when replacing a filter to the air conditioning unit. We had gas heat so I was immediately concerned. I called PSE&G explaining the problem and they sent someone right away to have a look. The heater was the original model when we moved there 26 years ago but the air conditioner had been replaced only a year ago.
The bad news was that the heater had to be immediately replaced. The gentleman who had come to check it said it was too old and too risky to repair. The good news was that the Gas & Electric company also provided a service for replacements and that the cost could be divided over twelve months with a small increase to my monthly bill of about $29.00 . Doing the math in my head and knowing I could not afford to shell out that much money all at once I took the deal. Here was yet another addition to the money I planned for Jim to owe me come settlement time. A day later the new heater was installed and I felt relieved. Once again I had faced a problem and dealt with it. I was beginning to believe I could handle things on my own and I was not as helpless as Jim always made me out to be.
The second part of the house problem, the property tax assessor was not so easily resolved. In September I received a very disturbing letter from the township. It was in a brown envelope with big red lettering. I didn’t need to open it to know it meant trouble. When I read it, I had to sit down.

When Elizabeth was getting married we had redone our mortgage to get some of the equity out of the house to help pay for the wedding. Jim had also passed on the option of having the refinancing include insurance payment and tax payment monthly which meant we had to pay them separately. Since Jim had left I had been making the monthly insurance payments and the quarterly tax payments myself. The insurance was not bad, just $32.00 monthly which I made sure was taken care of on time. The tax payments were hefty, over $700.00 a quarter, and I had managed barely. So far I had paid April and July on time but I knew September’s was due and I was struggling but Jamie’s rent payments would give me just enough to pay it by the month end. What could this letter be about?
As I continued to read it I first was shocked, then full of anger with a sense of betrayal. Finally I was down right mad. Mad at Jim for his continued lies and mad at myself for believing him. Here was a notice of judgment for over $2,600 in back taxes due immediately. ‘Immediately’ as in now, this instance, pronto! Where the heck was I going to get that kind of money!? I had already taken a loan to get the other bills up to date, I had nothing left except the small reserve in my two savings account which because of the tire expense and the down payment for the new heater was down to less than $300.00. I would have to close out my 401K and take a loss plus pay off the loan to get that kind of money. I needed alternatives. I needed a miracle. I needed Jim’s head on a platter!!!
The next morning, while at work I called Jim at his job. I had tried to call him on his cell phone but he would’t answer, so I had no choice but to confront him at his work. I had conditioned myself to remain calm. I didn’t want to sound like a hysterical female full of rage and fury. That would not do. Nor was I going to reduce myself to any vulgarity. Mother had taught me better than that. But I was angry and I made sure he knew it. At first he said nothing than insisted that the back taxes were being taken care of in his bankruptcy payments. He said it was probably a clerical error and that if I went there I could probably straighten it out. I asked him why he didn’t just go there himself. After all he had the papers, the house was still half his responsibility, he had made the deal, why was it now just my problem.
It was stupid of me to think that he would take any steps to get in front of this or to offer any support. His whole life was the pursuit of avoidance of any responsibilities. Hadn’t I figured that out yet? I swear he knew this all along. That it was all part of his plot to leave me holding the bag as it were. Hanging up the phone I was ready to throw in the towel. I didn’t know what to do at that point. I was fresh out of ideas of ways to fix this. But then there was that voice again. “It’s not the end of the world!” Mom was relentless. I swear she was going to haunt me until my last breath!

Now remember what I said at the beginning of this chapter about serendipity. It’s also about karma, the forces generated by a person’s actions. I believe in Karma as well as fate. I do not believe in coincidences and that things “just happen”. My proof is in what happened next.

The next day on my lunch hour I went to the township office to try and straighten out the issues presented in the letter. They looked it up and found no indication that I had owed any back taxes and were at a loss to understand why the letter had been sent. This gave me very little comfort as I have dealt with the ‘system’ before and in the back of my head I knew this was going to come back and haunt me, but for the time being I just let it go. There was still the quarter payment due which I still didn’t have completely. I asked for a continuance for a few weeks explaining my situation which though disdainful for me to admit I had now used several times as an excuse for making late payments with practically everything.
At home that evening I sat in my office trying over and over to think of ways to save more money and build up my emergency funds. More than anything I was terrified of being broke and scared of losing what little I had. I was haunted constantly by the possibility of being homeless and ending up a bag lady wandering the streets and sleeping in alley ways begging for scraps. I had nightmares and I could never really get it out of my mind. The only solace I truly had was my desire not to waddle in self pity and not to give in.
Jamie sensed my discomfort but I was determined not to involve him or his sister in this. As is my way when I get nervous I joked and made silly talk about anything that came to mind including having a big yard sale and getting rid of some of the ‘junk’ that was cluttering the house. Jamie agreed and we even made plans to do just that in the weeks ahead.
Just then the dogs started barking and there was a knock at the door. Jamie went to see who it was. I think he knew I wasn’t in the mood to receive visitors or solicitors. I stood at the top of the stairs listening as he answered the door and overheard some of the conversation. The voice was familiar as well as the name of the person. It turned out to be my cousin Carol.

Carol was a relative who it just so happened lived across the highway in another small town. We were both originally from Philly and her mother and my Grandmother had been related though I never remembered exactly how. I had seen her on occasion when I worked at a local video store as the manager several years before. She would rent movies and we would occasionally talk about old times. Other than that I rarely bumped in to her. Tonight though she had ‘dropped by’ with important news.
It seemed that my great aunt who was also Carol’s aunt had died recently. I remembered her. When my father had died over ten years before she had been the sole beneficiary. This had never really bothered me because my father and I had been estranged since my birth and I never had any expectation that he would have left me anything. Hell, at the funeral which I attended only because Mom had wanted to go, his few friends were shocked to know that he had a daughter. But enough about those times, let’s get back to the now.
It seemed that my great aunt had put me in her will. This was a surprise to me as I had always thought that she would have resented me for not trying to reconcile with my father before he died. Carol said there was a list of beneficiaries and that the sum might not be a lot but that the lawyers were trying to get in touch with me because very few people knew where I lived.
Jamie and I looked at each other in disbelief. I was I have to admit, salivating. I couldn’t have been more surprised and…thankful. Carol stayed for refreshments and we got caught up in the events of things happening in the last few years. She also gave me the information for getting in touch with the lawyer handling the estate and even advised me not to mention anything to my estranged husband. That went without saying. She didn’t know the exact amount of the CD which was what had been deposited for me year earlier but that didn’t matter and I didn’t ask even when I called the next morning to the law office. What I also didn’t know was that this was only the beginning and a turning point for events to follow. For the moment the nightmares faded, and I slept peacefully for the first time in months.

Chapter IV - Shock Wave

As spring moved toward the summer of 2003 I fell into a comfortable routine. First step was to identify all the bills that had accumulated during my recovery from the surgery. As usual, Jim had let them fall way behind, at least three months behind, utilities, phone, cable, taxes, and even the mortgage. It was the disaster of all disasters and he had left me with no savings in our bank account and had transferred the direct deposit of his monthly pension check to some other account he set up for himself. I kept hearing in the back of my mind how he magnanimously offered to “give me the house.” What a crock!
While I had been recuperating and unable to go out he had managed to get the mail and hide the bills and overdue notices and secretly unplugging the phone so that “I wouldn’t have to get up to answer it” leaving me with just my cell phone for “emergencies”. He obviously had been planning his escape for some time and like a dummy I thought he was being very attentive. His seemingly good deeds were never intended to be for my benefit. But now I had a choice, and I had things to do. It was my fault, my stupidity and now my responsibly to change. I could either give up or build up.

Second step…organization. This was my forte! I began by creating a spreadsheet listing all the bills and their due dates. I also noted the amounts back due which I wanted to give priority to and marking them in red. My next step was to contact all the utilities and try to explain my situation and to set up a payment schedule. I was amazed and thankful for their understanding and their willingness to work with me. I then took out a loan against the funds from my stock shares at work and paid as many bills as I could. As painful as it was to do this, I really couldn’t live free with all this debt over my head. Payment for the loan was taken out of my pay weekly at a manageable amount. Then I just figured out each week what bills I could pay with the remaining funds from my salary. I must say I got pretty good at budgeting everything to the point that I managed to get back on track within a few months. I reduced some bills by switching to only one phone line and not opting for an unlisted number and having only basic cable without the frills. Of course I still kept a few channels such as the Sci-Fi channel. Hey, I had my priorities!
Thanks to my son, who decided to move back home and insisted upon paying me rent I was able to manage the household expenses without giving up too much and I even got the mortgage back up to speed at least what was immediately owed. There was still the lien against it because of Jim’s bankruptcy but that was in his name and I couldn’t worry about it then. Not surprisingly, Jim’s promise to give me $300 a month always fell short and never on time. But I learned not to depend on him anymore.

By summer I was getting use to living alone and frankly, it wasn’t so bad. At least I had the dogs and our cat Pookie for company and of course Jamie when he wasn’t working or at school. Being able to come and go when I pleased had its perks. I could even stay out late with my friends as long as I attended to the dogs first. I even managed to take them for short walks one at a time. I was still hurting a little but I didn’t need the cane anymore.

One June weekend I went to my daughter’s house to visit the grandkids. It was my granddaughter’s birthday and I took both she and her brother out to lunch. During the outing I casually asked Christopher if their grandfather had visited because I was concerned that Jim had forgotten Stephanie’s birthday and also because I was curious of what he had been doing with his life. (Yeah, I was digging for gossip!) He had come to see them and had brought presents for both of them, including a game for Chris’s Nintendo. Jokingly I acted surprise mentioning how Jim was not very techno savvy and I hoped it was something he liked. His answer shocked me. He said, “Oh Robin had picked it out.”
Robin, that name! I knew that name! If I had been suddenly hit by lightning I couldn’t have been more shocked. So, the ‘friend’ he was living with was a woman! Not only that but someone I was vaguely aware of.
In the summer of 2002 Jim had needed surgery for a herniated disk. It required him to be out of work for a few weeks. During that time I had dealt with the paperwork for his leave of absence from work and I had talked often to the Human Resource Director at his job whose name was Robin. She would call or I would with updates on his progress and I had even sent her a ‘thank you’ note for the fruit basket sent by the office to him. I even put her on my Christmas Card List for heavens sake! Just how long had this been going on? Driving to the restaurant I was numb. My curiosity and imagination was going wild but I did not want to question Chris any further. I did not want get him involved or feel that he was betraying any possible secrets. I put on a happy face and we enjoyed the afternoon. When I took them home I said nothing to Elizabeth. Obviously she knew the truth and was caught in the middle. I would not add to that by asking her to compromise. I knew she loved her father and me. I didn’t want or expect her to take sides. This was my problem. Now I just needed to confirm it. After all, I knew where she lived.

That evening after I got home, I looked up Robin’s address in my database. Then I called Joy. The address was in the same small town Joy lived in. I told her what had happened. We decided to stake out the place the next morning, a Sunday. I got to Joy’s early and we headed out in her car. Jim would have noticed mine right away and this was a reconnaissance mission. Stealth was needed.
The address led us to a community of condominiums. The townhouse number was plainly visible and as we drove past it, there was Jim’s car outside in one of the assigned spaces. I had prepared myself for this shock wave. I was not upset, I was not emotional. I accepted the truth. The marriage was over. It was somehow a relief, and I was now truly ready to get on with my life.

Chapter III - Starting Over

The way I look at it you have three choices when dealing with a spouse who wants out.
Whine, plead, cry, curl up and feel sorry for yourself.
Get hateful, get nasty and seek revenge.
Get on with your life.

Whining isn’t really something I like to do, nor is feeling sorry for myself. Yes I did have a good cry that first night, but wouldn’t anybody in this situation? Emotions build up and you got to release the pressure. Crying is healthy and natural. Then you dry your eyes and get onto the next phase.
Getting hateful really isn’t my style. Sure I fantasized about it. I remembered a movie where an upset wife (that’s putting it mildly) took all of her husband’s clothes and personal things and loaded them up in his brand new sports car then filled it with gasoline and struck a match. You got to laugh at that one. It was perfect! Of course there’s the more primal approach of getting a shotgun and blasting him away, but that leaves a mess and besides it’s over in an instant and where’s the fun of making him suffer? No, I’m not into violence and the cost just wouldn’t be worth the trouble it brings.
There are things you can do to give you some psychological enjoyment and satisfaction without resorting to physical retribution.
Get an inflatable toy punching bag that they sell in toy stores and give it a whack every time you feel the need to hit something. You can even draw his picture on it so you have a target.
If you are a bowler, imagine him as the head pin. Bet your average would go up!
Take all of his clothes and donate them to Goodwill, anonymously of course.
Post a Wanted picture in all the Supermarkets where he might shop. It doesn’t have to say for what, just get him stares from the neighbors.

I’m sure there are endless ideas out there we could all dream up, many of them childish but satisfying. For me, I had help from a friend.
It was the start of April and the beginnings of spring. A week had passed since Jim’s departure and I was still trying to sort out things. Joy entered my office and set a neatly wrapped box on my desk. It was nowhere near my birthday or any other special occasion.
“I spent days looking for this in my house. It’s just the thing to cheer you up.” she said laughing deviously. Inside was a small dart board with a stand to sit on one’s desk and a set of four miniature darts. Perfect! Almost immediately I got an idea. On my desk were various pictures of Jim, the dogs, Jamie & Elizabeth and the grandkids. Taking one of Jim’s pictures from its frame, I scanned the image onto my computer then superimposed a set of concentric red circles to form a target over his face. Then I printed a copy and pasted it onto the dart board. We both took turns throwing darts at it and I even managed to hit a bull’s eye after some practice. It felt good and made me laugh. Just the psychological uplifting one means.

Joy also showed me a news article from her local paper that told of a conference being held the next day at the community ‘Y’ for those seeking legal information on divorcing. The timing of this was a strange coincidence and I knew I had to go even though it meant taking half a day off.
Generally I avoid these type of gatherings because I’m always uncomfortable in group settings. Always makes me feel like I’m going to some sort of therapy session where everyone has the same problems and are asked to share their experiences. I still wasn’t in the mood to share and I certainly took no comfort in the fact that I wasn’t the only one with my problem. If that sounds selfish it isn’t meant to. I just have strong feelings of empathy when I hear some sad story which is why I always avoided books and movies that involved sad endings. I would be a basket case and cry all night. And if it involved animals I was inconsolable. I remember when I took Elizabeth to see Bambi when she was little completely forgetting what happens halfway through the movie. Liz punched me in the arm when his mother was shot and I cried. It was a long time before we ever saw a Disney movie again!
I was surprised at the number of people at this conference but not surprised by the number of women. They outnumbered the male attendees five to one. What does that tell you? But it was worth my discomfort to attend as I picked up some valuable information. The speaker was not an actual attorney and emphasized that in her opening statement saying we would best be served by seeing an attorney for further answers to our questions. There are a lot of lawyers who are willing to consult with you for the first time free. This way you can present your issue and they can tell you up front what would be involved if you should retain their services including fees.
Up to this point I hadn’t considered exactly the course I wanted to take. We didn’t have a lot of liquid assets between the two of us; the children weren’t an issue since they were grown and on their own and quite frankly I didn’t see any point in paying some one else for what should be an easy and direct end to the marriage. But I did want to make sure I got a far deal, as you hear of so many sorted and nightmarish results to leaving one’s spouse. I certainly didn’t want to end up with nothing.
The first interesting fact I learned was the various types of divorce. In my case my best option was to get him for desertion. It had been his decision to walk out of the marriage. All I had to do was wait one year, make sure I gave him free access to return to the house whenever he wanted, which meant not changing the locks on the doors and to officially put on record that he had left the marriage, not me.
The second noteworthy point I learned was that since we had been married for as long as we had (33 years up to now) I was entitled to claim half his pension as long as I did not put in writing that I would not claim it. Of course this meant that he was entitled to half of mine also, but since for all practical purposes, I didn’t really have much of anything invested (no thanks to him!) I didn’t see that as a possible issue.
The third point was that if there were no real dispute between the parties involved, we could file for divorce through some legal aid group who for a modest fee ($500) would draw up the papers to be presented to the court rather than both of us hiring lawyers. There would also be a court fee for processing, but in all it was a heck of a lot cheaper than going the other route. This had been my biggest concern since neither of us really could afford much else.
I left the meeting with plenty of notes and a list of things to. At least now I had a direction and rudimentary plans for the immediate future. My next course would be to sit down with Jim and discuss some of what I learned as it would be important not to try and hold back anything if this was going to work without a feud. For the most part, Jim was in agreement about how to proceed, but there were two things that gave me pause. One was that he didn’t want to wait a year. Why couldn’t I just tell the judge we had been separated for a year and be done with it. Alarms went off in my head. No way was I going to agree to that! What was his rush? I told him up front that if we were going to do this, we would do it right! He wasn’t getting out of his financial obligations with the house and other bills until I was certain everything was up to date and until I was certain I could handle being on my own. He tried to reassure me that he “would make certain I was taken care of.” and that he wouldn’t leave me stranded. As to his half of the bills, he was going to give me $300.00 a month until the divorce and to show his sincerity he told me to give him a deposit slip and that he would pay the mortgage this month. “Send the payment now and I will deposit the money this Thursday.” That seemed agreeable. Besides I wanted to start paying the bills in my name alone to start establishing a history of payments on my own. I gave him the deposit slip to my checking account and he again promised to deposit the money by noon in two days.
That Thursday, I came home as usual to a house of excited pets, and silence. Jim had already given the dogs their run and fed them, but had left before I arrived as he was now in the habit of doing. On the kitchen counter was the receipt for the deposit he had promised to make. For a moment it seemed all was well until I looked closely at the amount deposited. Our mortgage payment was over five hundred and fifty dollars. I had already written and mailed checks for some of the other bills that month which left me with just enough for food and gas money until next pay. Jim’s deposit was for less than half of what was needed to clear the mortgage payment check I had written and mailed.
I was dumbfounded! This couldn’t be happening! And yet it couldn’t possibly be a mistake. He had to have known he wasn’t going to deposit the full amount. I had just been gas lighted! How could I have been so gullible? Why was he doing this to me? What possible explanation could there be for this deceit? This was serious. I would be ruined if that check bounced. He had to have known that. Could he really have become so mean and uncaring as to do this on purpose? It was as if some evil force had taken possession of the man I married and loved all these years.
But I don’t believe in fairy tales and with this latest act I was finally waking up to what and who I was dealing with. Seeking revenge as I said before isn’t really my style, but I do believe that what comes around, goes around. It was now time to stop being naïve and polite. Jim had showed what he was capable of. It was time I showed him what I was capable of too.

Thanksgiving to me. –

Since this is the day of the unofficial beginning of the Holiday season, I’d like to take a few moments to deviate from my narrative and reflect on Thanksgivings past and the future.
I have a confession to make. I hate turkey! In the past, when our family was still whole and together I always made a deal with Jim and the kids. We could have turkey on Thanksgiving or Christmas but never both. Fortunately they agreed and traditionally we would have lamb for one of the holidays.
The holidays may have been a time for togetherness and joy but it also was a heck of a labor intensive time as well. It meant cleaning house, food shopping and trying to figure out where in the world I was going to put all the food before preparation.
Sorting through all the years of holiday madness I was thinking tonight of one particularly crazy Christmas dinner that sort of defined the spontaneity of the season in our house.
This one Christmas we were having Jim’s sister Sue Ann and her husband Ted coming down from Connecticut as our guest for Christmas. My mother was also coming from Philadelphia for the day which meant a houseful of people besides two children our dog Abba (a Great Pyrenees) and a very fat cat named Bon Soir. Traditionally Jim and I always cooked together. Jim prepared the turkey and stuffing, I made the Irish potatoes and other veggies and the dessert including tapioca pudding which was Jim’s favorite.
Our kitchen was not very big and didn’t have a lot of counter space so we would make as many things the night before and refrigerate.
Fortunately we did have a nice size dining room and with the extra leaves for the dining table there was plenty of room for tableware and food. Though there was seven of us, there was room for eight with the chairs which were all placed around the table.
As we gathered in the dining room and everyone took to their seats, Abba decided to jump up in the chair at the head of the table where Jim was to sit. Now if you never saw a Great Pyrenees, think of a full grown St. Bernard, a breed related to the Pyrenees. Abba was approximately 115lbs, all white and female. She wasn’t just a dog, but very much a part of our family with a personality to boot. As far as she was concerned, she belonged there.
While my mother looked mortified, Jim tried to talk Abba into getting down, but she wouldn’t move. Jim never had much success in giving Abba commands and Abba always ignored his attempts. Mother on the other hand was not ignored. Though she loved Abba also, it was clear she was not amused by this spectacle. Abba removed herself at the mere sound of her voice, and dinner began.
Through each course, the dishes were removed and stacked neatly in the sink. Left over serving dishes were place in the oven or quickly wrapped and placed in the refrigerator because as I said before, our counter space was limited. After desert and because Sue Ann and Ted had to leave to make the long trip back to Connecticut and I had to drive Mom back to Philadelphia from New Jersey, Jim had placed the turkey in the kitchen. He was going to cut it up for leftovers but first we had to say good bye to our guests.
The kids gathered outside to say goodbye, I got the car and Mom got in. Sue Ann and Ted got into their car and we and for a few moments we continued saying goodbye to each other totally oblivious to the drama going on in the house.
For whatever reason Jim had turned to look in the window and saw it first. Suddenly he was shouting, arms waving as he stood frozen in place. There through the window he had a clear view of the dining room and the kitchen. The scene was comical. With exceptional ease Abba had lifted the turkey clear off the platter and was carrying it in her mouth into the dining room, placing it back on the table, and yes you guessed it, was having her own meal.
Recovering from his initial shock, Jim raced back into the house, followed by the kids. But Abba was too quick for him and she grabbed the bird and headed up the stairs to the bedroom. There she planted herself on our bed and laid her head on the turkey. But she gave it up without resistance.
Needless to say there was no leftover turkey that Christmas. I still smile as I remember those days despite the changes that have happened through the years. They were wonderful times with happy memories to keep me company, and I am thankful for the experience.

Chapter II – The Plan

For a week Jim continued to stay at the house but I had no illusions that I would come home one day and he would be gone. On the ninth day I got a call while at work. He wanted to sit down that evening and discuss future plans for both of us. Translation, he was going to tell me his plans.
For a week, once the word got out in the office, I had listened to the advice of some of my friends and associates. Two of my best friends were divorced, Joy’s sister Jan and Ann who worked across the street at our warehouse where she was the administrative assistant to the supervisor. And there was Linda who was also recently divorced. All agreed that my first course of action should be to close out our joint checking account. Since I had direct deposit for my pay check each week, keeping it open would mean that either of us would have unlimited access to any amount in it and they felt that Jim would take advantage of the situation. While I disagreed something in the back of my mind urged me to take their advice. After all, a week ago I hadn’t conceived of my spouse wanting to quit our marriage. Anything was possible now. Fortunately I had a separate checking account that I had opened several months before just for convenience, plus a savings account just in my name. It was easy just to have the company move my direct deposit to my single accounts and for good measure I designated 75% to the checking and 25% to the savings. I had a feeling I was going to need it.
Wanting to keep the evening civil I fixed a light dinner of pasta and salad. Can’t argue over a pleasant meal or at least that’s the way I saw it. First on the agenda, he wanted keep the dogs. Duke and the Duchess were our other children. We had gotten them from a breeder in Ohio, first Duke then Duchess three years later. They had been 8 weeks old when they had come to us. They were not for breeding though they were both pure bred of champion stock. They were our companions and I loved them both. The idea of giving them up was disheartening but separating them would be even worse. I never doubted that Jim loved them as much as I did and would take exceptional care of them. Being high maintenance canines, they needed a lot of exercising and a lot of energy. He made a valid point that in my present state I could not walk or play with them. For now he would leave them with me, but when the time came and he had settled in his own place he was going to take them with him.
Having brought up the subject of getting his own place he told me he was moving out that night and staying with a friend from work for the time being. But he would come in the mornings and evenings to take the dogs for their run. Again he mentioned that “I could have the house and most of its contents.” At this I snickered. I told him that until the day came that he signed it over to me he was still going to have to be responsible for at least half the mortgage. By the look on his face and his reaction I knew I had struck a cord. I got the distinct impression he hadn’t considered that I would catch on to his ‘plan’.
The house was in both our names, but besides a mortgage, it had a lean on it in connection to his bankruptcy. There was no way he could turn the title over to me until he had paid off his creditors and dissolved the bankruptcy. Recovering his composure, he said that he would pay the mortgage for the next three months as the bankruptcy would be paid off by that time. This was news to me. I thought he had two more years left on it. Where had he gotten the money to jump ahead like that? We’ll come back to that later.
Last on his list was the resolution about the pensions. Here it comes! Jim would not make any claim to my pension. How magnanimous of him! Though I had a 401K at work which to date had approximately $8000.00 in it, I also had a very small pension with the hospital where I use to work. I was receiving a monthly check for $70.00 from it as the hospital had closed and the money had been put in a protective government account. Not earning any interest, I had started an ING account and had it directly deposited each month. If you don’t see it, you don’t spend it! As for the 401K, I would have had twice the amount invested had I not had to withdraw a portion of it to help us get out a near financial disaster some years before. We were broke, the mortgage was behind and the debts had piled high. Jim had said we would lose the house if I didn’t take the money out and I felt cornered, so stupidly I had agreed. He reasoned that his pension would provide for us both when the time came.
Now for the flip side! He wanted me to agree that I would not go after his pension. Whoa, hold up! This was not happening. Why would he think that I would agree to such a ridiculous idea? He said that one day he might want to remarry. “Well”, I said, “let her get her own pension!” We were married 33 years, I had priority and I had earned the privilege. This may sound crude but no way was I giving up on what I felt was rightfully my claim. Dinner was over. Things were about to get ugly.
Jim was generally not a violent person, at least not physically. But he did have a hidden, devilish side to him. He could be vengeful. As a former Criminal Investigator for the IRS (yes, that most hollowed and terrifying branch of our government), he knew how to work the system. Looking into his eyes now I could see the wheels turning.
“I will fight you in court on this and you’ll end up embarrassing yourself and the children.” he threatened.
Now I saw it. Whenever he felt his back was to the wall, Jim always resorted to threats. He was a good chess player but had a lousy poker face and couldn’t bluff for nothing. In that instant I thought of Joy and what she would have said in this situation.
Joy had taught me a lot through the years we worked together and now it was about to pay off. Jokingly she had called me many a time a ‘wimp’ because I never could say no to the sales people whenever they would come to me with their last minute projects and problems, nor to my kids when they wanted something like borrowing the car, babysitting or money, nor to Jim when he wanted to buy something new though I worried about all the spending. nor when he would ask me catch a ride with a friend home because he wanted the car to go play golf with his buddies.
I thought of all that in that moment as I prepared my retort to his threat. With eyes wide open and an expression of total sincerity and defiance, I stared at him from the other end of the table and said…”Bite Me!” THANK YOU JOY!

Sixty, Divorced and Starting Over

Chapter I – The Surprise

What if you wake up one typical day and your spouse looks you straight in the eye and suddenly says “I want a divorce.” Now I’m not talking about couples who have been having marital problems for months or even years, but ones who have had a comfortable marriage with a home, children, financial ups and downs and all the normal routines associated with 30 + years of marriage.

For me the fateful day came the first week of spring. My spouse came home one evening, sat on the couch and said he wanted to have a talk. I turned off the news on the TV and got comfortable in my lounge chair and smiled as I waited for him to say something. Suddenly the words came out like thunder in a summer storm. “We’ve had a good marriage for some thirty years and now I want a divorce.”

I was totally unprepared for this scenario! What the heck brought this on? We had been married for thirty three years, had two children, (boy and girl) one married, one in college, both living on their own, two grandchildren and two dogs.

I had recently had surgery, a total hip replacement, and had only returned to work the week before. We had been talking about selling the house and moving to Florida. Jim was officially retired from a government job, collecting a pension and working part-time for a law firm that collected back debts as an investigator. I was still working full time as an executive assistant for a national office supply company. We were not in the best financial shape, but we were managing.

We had lived in our home for 26 years, taken modest vacations off and on, given our daughter a wedding, enjoyed a social life with friends and even maintained a decent sexual attraction to each other. What was happening? Why didn’t I see this coming? What did I do wrong? These questions raced through my mind as I tried to stay calm and not sink into a flood of tears and outpouring of emotional rage.

What came next was shocking, damning and just plain mean. Still stunned and unable to speak, Jim continued with his reasons for leaving without any prompt, for I had not even been able to mutter the question of why. “You’ve let yourself go and I can’t take it anymore.” Okay, I understand this is a typical excuse some people use to pump themselves up when contemplating divorce to mask a more deep and insidious excuses for running away from the responsibilities of a long term marriage. But even I, naïve to this whole turn of events knew it was something else.

Granted, I had put on extra weight. Right after my fiftieth birthday I went menopausal and developed high blood pressure. I even suffered a ministroke. Before the operation I had suffered two years of slow and debilitating pain on my left side, I had difficulty walking and even had a few falls. I had stupidly just dealt with it without seeing a doctor or getting tests done and as a result my weight increased. Finally Jim had encouraged me to go and get it fixed.

I was stunned when the doctor showed me the x-rays. My entire left hip was being eaten away by degenerative arthritis. In my childhood and through my teens I had been a ballet dancer and active in other sports including synchronized swimming and fencing. Though after marriage I had pretty much moved on to being a parent and taken a full-time job I still swam, played softball and took up bicycle riding as often as I could. After forty I gave it all up, too tired and too busy trying to keep our family together during hard times. We never really have a lot of savings even with working two jobs to help keep the kids in a private school.

After the operation I was determined to recover as quickly as possible, exercising, dieting and getting some of my strength back. I lost close to thirty pounds but I knew I still had a ways to go. And now one week after I return to work, having been out for three months, Jim tells me he wants out. What a crock! I knew there had to be more. The fog was lifting now and somehow I sensed he had been planning this for some time. This wasn’t a sudden decision. Something else was going on. And then he said it. “This was a mistake.”

Now there’s a slap in the face! What was a mistake? Our entire marriage, having stayed in it so long, what? My mind was swirling with images of thirty some odd years of ups and downs, lovemaking, heated arguments, crisis after crisis, happiness, joy and sadness, all the events that fill a life when you share it with someone. A mistake, is that what this was? I finally got up from my chair and walked across the room, my cane in hand. As I limped pass him , I lowered my voice and just said, “do what you have to do.”

I wanted to scream, cry, curl up in a tiny ball and just die. It was so surreal. But years of discipline at keeping my emotions to myself kept me from doing any of that. Besides, I refused to let him see me break down in front of him. I had to think and I had to do it now before I turned into a total wreck. I would cry later. But Jim wasn’t finished. He had his speech all laid out and he had a plan. Sitting in my office he pursued the issue. He would give me the house, taking only a few items like the 35 inch TV some pictures and the dogs but he would make sure I was taken care of. Now this was laughable.

Jim was a financial disaster. Though he made a modest income he always felt the need to spend it as quickly as he made it. I was the saver in the family or at least I had tried. But every time I tucked some away, he managed to create a crisis so that we would have to use the savings to get us out of debt. It had finally come to a head when our daughter was getting ready to get married. He had managed to talk me into refinancing the house to help pay for the wedding. But we couldn’t keep up the payments and he had decided to file for bankruptcy on his own, leaving me out of it. When he did it, he had kept it from me saying, “he hadn’t wanted to worry me”. But I had found out and my reaction was one of near panic. What could I do? I was back to working one job only and trying to make do. Jim had retired and thought we could live on his pension and my salary alone. It took me a year to convince him to get a job again. I even had to write and send out resumes for him. When he did finally get a position, it was barely enough to keep our heads above water, but I never dreamed he would take it so far as to declare bankruptcy.

In a way the entire situation was partly my fault. I knew Jim’s weakness and I should have spoken up and demanded he act more responsibly but I hated confrontations and in the end I deferred to his judgment convincing myself that he could handle it. Basically I ignored the problem.

Now he wanted me to have the house. This to me was a euphemism for “I’m dumping everything on you.” I was not fooled. I was about to be deserted and left holding the bag. As he talked about who should tell the kids and our friends I was struggling with the reality of my situation. As he discussed his plans to move out, I was trying to grapple with what and how I was going to survive this. And then the most unimaginable thing happened. Just as I was on the brink of a meltdown he had the nerve to ask if we could make love one last time for “old time sake”. Now I was livid. I had been told I had lost my desirability, that our marriage was a mistake, that he was leaving me and all he could come up with was if he could take me to bed one last time! My primal instinct was to claw his eyes out then take a knife and cut “it” off, but instead I shoved him out the door and locked myself in my office. Head in hands, I sat at my desk staring at the wallpaper on the screen of my computer. Oddly enough it was a picture of a scene from Star Trek, (yes I am a Trekker!) the bridge of the Enterprise with the crew from the Next Generation. The tears had started to well up in my eyes, having held back from breaking down up until now. Looking for help from the enigmatic Captain Picard, I whispered “what do I do now?” A voice strong and unflinching spoke back…”Engage”.


The next morning I got up, fed the dogs, got dressed and mechanically got into my car and drove to work. Fortunately the office where I worked was only five minutes from our house. If I had had to take the freeway or traveled any distance at all I may not have made it because I was so numb and terrified at the same time. I sat in the car in front of the building for at least ten minutes trying to pull myself together and get my “game face” on. I never liked appearing sad, angry or distressed in front of people. To me it had always been sign of weakness or trying to solicit sympathy from people and being too self-absorbed, but mostly it was because I didn’t like seeing other people unhappy just because I was. My mother use to say “try not to look so miserable. No one wants to see your pain.”

I had tried putting on make-up that morning, something I only did when I was going out or feeling ill which is kind of bizarre when you think about it, two totally opposite events with different emotional status. Going out to a party, the movies, dinner with friends are all happy occasions where you’re feeling good and looking forward to a happy time. I also used make-up when I had a cold, suffered through that monthly emotional turmoil and even in the hospital when I had to have my gall bladder and appendix removed and ended up spending 26 days there because I got pneumonia and crashed because of an allergic reaction to the antibiotics. I even put on make-up and did my nails before I went into the hospital to have my children! Now I needed it to help me get through this first day after the last night of what I had thought was a very good and stable marriage. I wasn’t ready for this, but is anyone ever?

Walking into the office I put on a happy face and readied myself for a full day of work which I hoped would help me avoid thinking anymore about my situation. Walking toward my office I suddenly realized I was alone, no not in spirit but in reality. I was the only person in the office! I had arrived an hour early. God was I out of synch! Entering my office I turned on the lights and started up the computer. Well at least I would be getting an early start on things. It was a Tuesday, a week before the end of the month which meant I was going to have monthly and quarterly reports due so it would be an opportunity to get ahead of what normally was a very hectic time.

But first I needed coffee! Being first into work had its down side. It meant I had to make coffee. I could take a computer apart and add modules to the motherboard, install disc drives to the CPU, add printers to existing terminals, fix the copier when someone left a paper chip or staple attached to a document, but make coffee? Not!! Off to the kitchenette I trudged determined to do this one thing right. Searching the cupboards I found the can of coffee. Deftly I read the instructions on the back. ‘One level tablespoon per cup’. Okay…Looking in the drawers I searched without success for a proper measuring spoon. Nothing! All that was there was a huge cake knife, a can opener and endless supply of plastic forks. Not even a plastic spoon! Memo…buy a set of measuring spoons at the Dollar Store. Well I guess I’ll have to pour it in and estimate, I thought to myself. Opening the lid I was surprised to find a measuring scoop inside. Viola! All was not lost. Now where do I put the coffee? (I told you I wasn’t good at this!) Filters! Yes, I vaguely remembered that you are suppose to use a filter that goes in somewhere at the top so that the water can run into it and then down into the glass coffee pot. I found the filters and even managed to correctly place one into the ‘catcher’ at the top of the machine. Now all I had to do was add the coffee, turn it on and wait. After about ten minutes I had a full pot of dark brown ‘roasted’ heavenly smelling coffee. Not bad for my first time, after all I usually drank instant at home. Feeling as though I had accomplished something new without any problems I went to the fridge, got my milk, my Hershey syrup, and my whip cream. Starbucks has nothing on me! With my oversized coffee cup I proudly poured myself some java and headed back to my desk. Leaving my office door open I could hear as my associates entered one then two at a time. The day was beginning.

We were a small office of about twelve people. The nice thing was that everyone talked to each other whether to just say hello or sometimes to chit chat about their weekend or what they were planning for the week and weekend ahead. Today was no exception. One of the salesmen saw my light on and popped his head into my office to say ‘good morning’. Noticing that something was different he complimented me on my dress and make-up thinking I was going out later. “You don’t have a job interview or something?” I smiled and said no, that I had just been in the mood to do something different that day.

My best friend whom I thought of as a sister came in next. Her office was across the hall from mine and we spent a lot of time in work and outside of work together. Surprised at my early arrival she stepped into my office and immediately gave me a look.

There was no escaping Joy’s intuition. She knew me far too well. We had been working together in the same department for over seven years and had been best friends and sisters for all that time. She had been the administrator for the branch manager when I first started working for the company and had been influential in having me hired. She had also helped and taught me all about personal PCs and Office Windows.

Before that I had worked with mainframes and system wide terminals at a local hospital as the Data Processing Supervisor. I had been a programmer in Fortran, COBOL, Pascal, RPGII, Basic and the like, working with IBM mainframes and Business Data Processing Computers. I basically knew nothing about Microsoft or the personal computer revolution. When the hospital was sold for the third time in two years I saw the handwriting on the wall and decided to move on. I then took a job as a manager for a chain of video stores because the owner knew me and found my infinite knowledge of movies very useful. I had grown up in the movies during the fifties and sixties, having spent a great deal of time going to movies and watching them on TV, something I inherited from my mother who was also an avid fan. I spent part of my time programming the stores computers to look up titles and cross reference by them by categories, stars and even directors with sub categories by Academy Award winners, dates and which ones were in black and white. I loved organizing things.

Joy was now staring at me. She knew something was wrong. “Okay, what’s with the make-up?” For a moment I weighed my options. Do I lie and deflect the question or do I just break down now and spill the beans. Before I could answer fate stepped in and distracted us both.

From the hallway a cry could be heard as someone called out “Geezus H. Who made the coffee?” I lowered my eyes as the Manager walked by my office. Lamely I raised my hand and said I did. “How much did you use?” It turned out that when you use the scoop which was conveniently left inside the can one usually measured out three scoops. I had measured out twelve, one for each cup. Memo- buy coffee that’s pre-measured! Everyone took the mistake well and Joy proceeded to make a fresh pot laughing and joking about my inexperience in the use of simple domestic household appliances. I stood by watching, having dumped my own cup out before I had even had a taste.

Crisis over I went back to my desk and just plopped in my chair. Joy followed, not having forgotten our earlier beginning of a conversation. There was no escape. I would have to tell her now. Asking her to close the door, I looked her straight in the eye and told her the whole nightmarish story of the events the night before. The tears, the fears and my shaking were unabated now. But I had a friend, a sister who was not about to let me deal with it all alone. After a hug and a few well chosen words about Jim’s ancestry we just sat there in silence. I was drained, but it felt good and I knew it would be alright.

As we sat there discussing my next course of action my phone rang. Clearing my throat I answered it with my best phone manner voice. It was my son, Jamie. His father had called and given him the news. He was understandably upset and worried about me. He said he was coming right down.

I couldn’t believe it! Jim was calling the kids, our friends, everyone we knew to tell them he was moving out and that our marriage was over. He had effectively pre-empted any hope of my first being able to cope with this disaster and finding a way to minimize the avalanche of gossip and rumors. The cat was out of the bag and my universe was spinning out of control. I needed a life raft and a way to put order back in my life.


Chapter II – The Plan (coming soon)