The Roof, The Roof, The Roof is on Fire.

 

The roof over her head was precarious.

The custody case was over.  From start to finish barely 5 months.  $20,000 in lawyer’s fees and as usual, no one really wins. 

For her, there was a cathartic maneuvering in the process that fed her tendency to obsess, to ruminate on the trauma and survival mode of the last 15 years of her life.  She had poured all the details of the marriage from start to finish into a 90-page PDF file.  The timeline of their life together took 3 pages. The supporting evidence of her efforts and his minimizing those efforts on the remaining pages: Appendix A, Appendix B, Appendix C, and so on….  She had spent every waking, non-working non-sleeping minute for four solid days on all the proof she could muster.   She had sought a lawyer to force him to have more possession of their son recognizing some of her scheduling needs, he in turn counter petitioning for full custody.

No one would really read that PDF document.  Her lawyer said, “That was considered resolved with your original divorce decree; you should have asked for alimony then.”  And with that statement, yet another man minimizing the 26 years she had dedicated to her husband and children.  The ex’s lawyer claimed to have never seen or received the PDF File although emails from his office asking for details on certain Appendices proved otherwise.  Once again, she relearned the lesson that only God cared enough about those details, and He does not need PDF file proof.

Three years prior to this, she had finally found the courage and inspiration to leave.  The promises she made as a 21-year-old to this man, and the covenants she made at the same time to God had kept her searching, working, giving, scraping, and fighting for every shred of her dream family for over half of her life on earth.  Her goal had been forever.  A forever family full of loved ones who accepted her, listened to her, validated her.  She had stubbornly believed and spent every bit of herself in the ways she thought she was supposed to- for this end.

No one knew.  No one saw what went on behind closed doors.  She had protected the image for as long as she can remember.  The children, perfect for church and photos.  Her husband, only cherished in public conversation; Exalted.  She willingly taking blame for any break in that illusion.

After the darkest of times, she had figured a way out that caused the least damage, was most fair to them both.  As they attended their fifth round of couple’s counseling, she eased the conversation of divorce as gently as possible.  What they were doing, was blasphemous to the sacred word "marriage."  The previous four attempts of marriage therapy had all resulted in the same outcome.  He maintained, “This is JUST the way I am. I rely on the arm of the flesh.”  Leaving her more confused and alone than ever.

There were promises of changing, but there never was the type of honest evolution that needs to exist in every relationship.  But it was understood she was the one that was supposed to solve that problem. She WAS the problem. She understood that very clearly now.  But living in the tornado of justification of sameness day in and day out for over a quarter of a century clouded that lesson.  She had simply believed her husband.  This was how a marriage and family just “is.” 

With family and marriage therapist number five her husband had declared his view of divorce.  “I will never do that.”  He said, “I am prepared to be married forever. Even if I have to exist until I die in loneliness and isolation.”  

She looked him in the eyes.  “WHY would I do that to YOU?”  What kind of sadistic person forces another to live in loneliness and isolation when she knows that is how he feels? She knew this had to happen.  She knew that to save them both, she had to have the courage to push this topic.  “Are you listening to what you are saying?  The kindest and most loving thing to do, is NOT to make you live in a situation where you feel loneliness and isolation!” 

But of course, he didn’t get it.  And so, from day one it was “her” divorce, “she” left him, “her child support,” and “her court case.”  She had to ignore that aspect and just get out.  He was dying.  She was dying.  Their children were learning the worst and most toxic life lessons watching this family try to keep the ship afloat.  The smoke and mirrors act leaves shards of glass and everyone gasping for air.  She could see that each member of the family was in survival mode to save themselves.  And she had spent all these years trying to save them ALL.  Super gigantic house of cards is all that it really was.

So, she put the proverbial life vest on herself first.  She held everyone’s hand as they scrambled to disembark the sinking ship.  And when all was said and done.  She paid dearly for every last one of her decisions.  Yet, she wasn’t supposed to show anyone her splinters and scars.

As she walked the plank, she had some great advice from a longtime friend who happened to be a marriage and family therapist:

·   Your relationship with your sons will suffer.  Your daughters will be just fine, but your sons will         never look at you the same way again once you end the relationship with their father.
·         He will marry a younger version of you; and as quickly as possible.
·         Divorce is not a solution.  You need to understand that you are trading one set of problems for a different set of problems. 

Now, three years later that advice had proven to be truth.  She would forever be grateful that she had been awarded these pearls, so she’d been more prepared for their inevitable unfolding.

It wasn’t until this day and the end of this mediation; With the decision to allow her to parent her own son 50% of the time, and with the minimum amount of child support, that she was able to communicate the core of her sorrow to herself.  The waves of truth continued to wash over and out through her tears.

There had been no respect.  She had been a wife, successfully, for over 25 years.  Despite the outcome, she had no misdeed to report to her maker for her part in the arrangement.  She had born 4 children for a man who, in public and even verbally to those children put her on a pedestal, but privately and personally treated her as a servant existing only to promote his agenda and to make her responsible for his feelings both good and bad.  Even in divorce, their children were expected to perform for him and to keep his reality afloat with his expectations and their successes in life.  

The end of the custody case brought another set of realizations.  She knew the world had evil and hate.  She had worked hard to be sunshine and bring light to all those she came in contact with.  She failed often, but never shifted from her goal.  In the world she had tried to build for herself, she had expected to have the fortress of a husband and children who accepted her, worked with her, whom she could depend on and talk to.  Instead, her efforts had created a world where she served a man who challenged her very being, belittled her thoughts and ideas, and forced her to comply to his view of his perfection.  To have any conversation with her children about his treatment of her; was inappropriate. When she broke from that world to survive, so they all could survive she lost her claim to any respect from anyone who values the forever family. 

Yet somehow at present this did not matter.  She had maintained her self-respect. No longer was her soul trapped beneath his heavy load of scum.

Now, no one cared to read the PDF file.  The treatment from her former husband warranted since “she left him.”  Her requests and attempts for any information from him brushed aside.   The same vagueness in answers to questions he viewed as attacks, questions he maintained she wasn't supposed to be asking. Sadly, she realized this was nothing new.  That had been what the marriage was like.  The plain fact that she had spent her youth, her life, her energy building a long marriage and four children wasn’t really worth anything when you look at it through the “she left him” lenses.

And 5 months of litigation proved this.  Nope, she should pay for the loans she took out in her own name to keep her children in college.  She shouldn’t receive any compensation for the $40,000 student loan debt she accrued to obtain the education she did not get be in order to be a full-time wife and a mother.  It was her responsibility that she is just starting a career as a middle-aged single mom.  Too bad that she spent 25 years supporting her husband’s career and now her earning power is 1/8^th of his.  She should have anticipated these things three years ago - when she wrote her own divorce papers out of desperation, lack of money, and lack of any community support.

During those final moments during the mediation.  Moments that her ex-husband’s disrespect fingernails dug deep into her “you never really mattered anyway” wounds. During those moments, the son she was fighting for was spending quality alone time with her ex’s coworker-wife.  And this pre-teen son, (whom she had spent last 5 months fighting for.) texting her from his father’s home when it was all over: “Don’t forget who provides a roof over your head” and “Don’t act like a victim,” echoing unspoken, yet heard and learned lessons taught from father to son.

A mother of four children from the same man shouldn’t have to fight for or justify for a roof over her head.  Only a father can teach his children how to show respect to a mother and for a wife. She has had to show her children she has respect for herself.  She must keep reminding of the boundaries she waited too long to enforce, so they break this pattern of disrespect. God help their children.

Grief counselor Kate McGahan said, “You change for two reasons: either you learn enough that you want to, or you’ve been hurt enough that you have to.”  

We don't need no water, let that m----r f----r burn.