I don’t know exactly why, but nothing hits me more that I am no longer a married person than when I’m traveling and the plane touches down. I grab my cell phone and instinctively feel like sending that text I sent over and over again: “just landed”.
When I was married, it didn’t matter if I left the house uneventfully, joyfully or after a stressful conversation, I always texted when that plane landed – regardless of the time.
It’s strange. I can’t text anyone else that I landed now. It’s not that anyone doesn’t care. I just can’t do it.
I think that is one of the things I miss most about being married – texting someone that I landed safely. I know it sounds sort of stupid.
Some people postulate that I miss being married. I don’t.
Or that I will get married again one day. I won’t.
Or that it’s not having that special someone to share any of the hundreds of travel mishaps that I experience along the way. It’s not.
On a subliminal level, it’s knowing that the one person who has the most vested interest in my not dying in a plane crash and sticking around is the one person with whom I am raising children. For me, it’s really that simple. It’s the text that writes “just landed” but really says “I’m still around…plan is still to be back Friday. I know about the game and you taking off a couple of days and if something happens, I’m here and oh, I get that I’m part of something bigger than myself.”
Though not my main reason, getting married had a lot to do with starting a family of my own. When the marital bond disintegrated, so did the ties that connect the only two people who share that experience of raising children, good and bad, and figuring it all out. I looked forward to being old and laughing at the bad times. That’s what you’re supposed to do. I was always ok with recreating some of the more difficult moments for the sake of prosperity. If nothing else, it provides great fodder for my kids to tell to their children.
By no means is the richness of relationships or even raising kids exclusive nor more acute for those two people who have signed the contract and created a family. I get that. There are examples upon examples of blended families, non-traditional relationships etc. that provide the same if not more intense positive environments for children. For me, it happened to be husband and wife.
My point is simply with respect to that growing storyline that those two people are developing – together. There is an understanding and thread that is carried from the very beginning that makes sense. It’s the glimpse that two people share when one of your kids does that thing again or that funny moment you have to remember to tell your partner at the end of the day. Those things count no matter how difficult things may have been. At least they do for me.
Imagine building something over a period of time and seeing it morph and suddenly your co-creator is not there to celebrate what happens to that creation. It’s a transition.
Surely, you will bring new people into your life to look at your creation, marvel at it’s worth and even help it evolve. It’s just the start of a new ritual. For me, it’s not texting “just landed” anymore. Maybe it’ll be “taking off” so I can focus more on where I’m going than where I came from.
Until next time,
Thanks again for reading. I appreciate it. If you haven’t already, please consider enrolling to get my blog posts delivered straight to your inbox through this site, email me at firstname.lastname@example.org or follow me on Twitter @marckaye1. (Better yet, how about all 3). Also, through October 15, for every new follower I get, I will be donating $1 to Nechama, a disaster relief agency, in honor of my daughter who is raising money and awareness for this great organization for her Bat Mitzvah project! Thanks again, Marc