I had the appointment with my mom's husband, who is a financial advisor, to go over getting my money secured before I filed for divorce. This involved things like moving my savings over to a college savings plan for the kids, etc.
He works out of an office that happens to be directly across the street from the church my husband and I attended for years, where we were married and had our son baptized.
Driving through my hometown (which is only 30 minutes from where I now live, but might as well be Egypt) was like driving through a time warp. I drove past my son's old pediatrician, then the store my husband worked at for the first 8 years of our marriage, the restaurants we used to meet him at for lunch, my old neighborhood, the nursing home my grandmother died at, the hospital I took my son to when he had an allergic reaction to shrimp, the cemetary my baby girl and my grandmother are buried at, and finally the church, which I coud see out the window just over my stepfather's shoulder the whole time we talked.
I couldn't help looking at the church that I haven't seen in so many years and remembering the hope I had, standing on the front steps with my Daddy, waiting to walk into the church, trying not to cry. I had so much hope and certainty for our future. I was absolutely 100% certain that this was the man I was supposed to be with, and that we would be together forever.
I stared out the window at the front steps, where we had stood together taking pictures, and I pictured us in my mind us at 21 and 22 years old, clinging onto each other for dear life. The photographer stood in the parking lot where my stepfather's office is now. That picture is in my closet, in an album.
I thought back to that girl I was then and wondered what she would think if she knew what I was doing today. Talking to a financial advisor about keeping that young, handsome groom from wiping out my savings account. Making plans to contact a lawyer. Discussing our financial strategy for keeping that man I had stood at the altar across the street with from my hard earned money.
On the drive home, driving past all the old haunts of my younger days, I couldn't help but question if I was making the right decision. I just can't imagine myself without him. I can't put the image from that church from 11 years ago together with what I was doing across the street today. I cried and cried the whole way, I mourned for our past life together when I thought we were happy, I mourned for that hopeful girl standing in her white dress, staring into the eyes of the man she loved and knew she would be with until she died.
I know that girl deserves better than what she got. And for her I will proceed with this divorce.
At the same time, I didn't realize how emotional and tumultuous this process would be. The whole separation of assets and lawyers, etc. etc. etc. It rips open wounds, it allows no room for BS, and it is not for the faint of heart. I just wonder if I should move on with this right now or wait for the situation with my Dad's brain tumor to come to a close.
I need to think about this. How much trauma can I put myself through at once?