Sunday, April 8, 2012

Happy Easter Sunday

I am holding back on writing about how much effort I put into Easter and how little he did.  I’m aware of it, but not going to dwell on it.  I think that’s progress!

This morning, the three of us went to church together. Katherine  and I attend our Unitarian Universalist church pretty regularly, and Bryan used to come with us about half the time, but since I asked for a divorce he rarely comes.  This weekend is “his” weekend with the girl, and I was glad he was willing to go to church with her.

But it felt very, very weird.

Because it’s Easter, we all dressed up, and Katherine and I wore great big hats – out of character for each of us, but fun for once a year – with our dresses.  I am determined in our divorce to put her needs first, and I think it’s good for her to be with both of her parents sometimes, especially on holidays, but I’d be lying if I said it was easy.  It’s not easy.  We are a family-not-family, and there are no rulebooks.
We drove together, and when we came in I saw lots of friends, and distracted myself with chit chat while he was in another part of the room.  Katherine and I sat with some friends….and he sat with us.  I guess this is just what I wanted for her, but there was a tiny, spiteful little part of me that wished he’d go sit in the back.  Still, PollyAnna won out, and I was grateful we could publicly keep it together for our girl.

At the end of our service, everyone holds hands and sings the fivefold amen.  It’s lovely and joyful and makes me feel a connection to everyone in that community….but this time, the person next to me was Bryan, and so I found myself holding his hand.  It was a bit surreal: this man with whom I shared a bed and my body for more than fifteen years is such a stranger to me now that holding his hand was awkward and strange.
I lived, and so did he.  I don’t know if Katherine noticed it or not, but I hope that we are teaching her something about resilience and kindness and integrity; I hope she saw how grownups can behave.  I’m proud of us for that small moment, and despite it’s awkwardness, I’m savoring it, because I like it when I do the right thing, and I think it was the right thing.

I'm glad I can do the right thing.

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