It has been an eventful week.
A week ago, my husband came to our former much loved home to pick up his stuff after the longest saga ever.
You share 14.5 years with someone and he collects his things packed in black rubbish bags. Sad.
If my ex has been affected in any way by the end of his marriage or the finality of collecting his things, he didn’t show it.
He was more interested in collecting unopened and opened bottles of brandy. I told him to enjoy.
If he was expecting drama from me, he got absolutely none.
I was cool, calm, collected, helpful and civil.
The truth is I am exhausted by life. He could take whatever he wanted to, I didn’t really care to be honest. He could have it only. They are only things.
At the end of the visit, my wonderful friend T who has been a rock and was with me said how surprised and proud of me she was and how I offered even more things than my ex had asked for.
She was livid with my ex. She said that all she wanted to do was to chuck his books and playstation games in his smug face and to tell him to fuck off when he laughingly said he needed to use the toilet. She couldn’t believe how blasé he was about everything. It was all so easy for him. Was he really concerned about brandy bottles? Seriously?
I was overwhelmed with sadness after the visit.
It all seemed so easy for this man that I had given so many years of my life to move on. I guess it sort of hit me that the last time my ex was in our home in April, we were still married, with a chance of working on our marriage and here we are, in such few months, complete strangers. All those shared lives, travels, restaurants, parties, adventures, experiences, hopes, aspirations; all nothingness, all meaningless.
But then something happens that shocks me out of my pity party for one…
My darling mother was involved in a bad car crash this Sunday. There could have been three corpses or serious injuries, and yet, the three of them walked away from that crash totally fine.
This is nothing short of a miracle.
I can’t imagine my life without my dearest mum in it. I just can’t even contemplate that possibility. It scares the shit out of me.
I stop and count my blessings.
It puts things in perspective.
It puts the end of my marriage in perspective.
No one died.
In other news, my home looks like a florists with gorgeous flowers from my lovely, kind friends.
I stop and smell the roses.
I count my blessings.
I am a lucky girl.