On Saturday, July 6, we returned home and on Sunday morning my husband brought my world crashing down around me when he told me that he was leaving. Devastated? Yah! Shocked? You betcha! How does someone go on a family vacation and pretend that everything is fine while acting normal and happy when he has retained a lawyer, rented an apartment, and claims to have been miserable for years. Yes, beyond shocked. Suddenly my life is filled with lawyers and therapists and loneliness. How did this happen?
A month later, I am not crying as often -- well not 24/7 anyway; I am looking for a part time job -- something to get me out of the house and in the company of some people over 3 feet tall (no easy task when you are my age and have been retired for three years); I am trying to fill my days without going nuts; and I am desperately trying to figure out what happened and what is going to happen. I think it was my daughter who suggested that I keep a journal -- I guess a blog is like a journal.
I don't know if anyone will read this, but on the off chance that they do, let me tell you about myself and give you some background.
My parents were Holocaust survivors who emigrated to this country after the war, two months before I was born. I have a younger brother, Phil, who was born two years after me. My parents arrived in this country without any money or family, couldn't speak English, and had little education past high school -- things were tough. My father was wonderful and loving, but had to work awful hours for almost nothing -- the college education he was supposed to have gotten fell victim to WWII too. My mother, who was difficult and bitter, raised us in a very European manner -- a son was special; a girl couldn't leave home until she was married. So despite being a top student in one of the country's best schools (Bronx HS of Science), when it came to college I had to attend CCNY, a free school, and live at home. It's not that CCNY was a bad school, quite the contrary -- it was just that I never got out of the house on my own.
I met David when I was a freshman and he was a sophomore at CCNY. And almost immediately we were a couple. He went from math major to history major to bio major in a short while -- I was a math major with dreams of working for IBM or NASA. David wanted me to move out with him (not something I could do given my family) -- moving in with him required that I married him first. At some point at the start of his senior year I decided that either we got engaged or I would see other people -- I needed to get out of the house and away from my mother. We got engaged! Looking back on this now, it may have been a mistake. David may have gotten engaged to keep the peace between us not because he actually wanted to marry me - ancient history that I am just realizing now.
David graduated from college and went on to study at Downstate Medical School. I gave up my dreams of IBM and NASA and started taking education classes -- what does one do with a degree in mathematics other than teach. Both my parents and his said that if we got married we would have to support ourselves -- I needed to work and think about starting a family not dream of furthering my education (that was then -- not now -- different world!) About a week after I graduated, we got married on June 27, 1971. I thought that this was going to be forever.
For the next 42 years, David was David and I was me. I worked and got my Masters in mathematics from NYU at night. We had and raised a family -- Josh was born in 1974, Jessica in 1976, and Dan in 1978. I got into Columbia Law School in 1975 but we moved to NJ in 1976 for David's fellowship -- law school was deferred and deferred and then deferred forever -- how could I attend law school in NYC while taking care of two children (then three children). I was not discouraged from attending -- but no effort was ever may to ease my way and I gave in (maybe too easily). My temper was explosive -- everything that bothered me was written on my face -- but once I exploded, I figured out a solution and things cleared up. David, on the other hand, ignored his problems, buried them within himself, and let them eat away at his kishkas for years.
David finished medical school in 1974 and soon began moonlighting for people with whom he eventually went into business - and business was wonderful. Life was golden. Then suddenly in 1997, the business collapsed -- went from bringing in a fortune to zero within a month. Life fell apart, David had to retrain himself and look for work as a "real" doctor; I went back to school for a diploma in computer programming and got a job as a main-frame programmer at a major insurance company. We lost our home -- but got a different one (not as fancy but home none-the-less). Life was different but good -- just a different kind of good. Can't say I loved my work -- I loved the programming but hated the politics. Stayed for 12-1/2 years until my job was outsourced. Our youngest son, who doesn't have a lot of money, and his family were moving back east from Portland OR soon after I was outsourced -- rather than look for another job, I decided to take early retirement and help with my granddaughter.
So that brings us to 42 years after marriage. David had issues and his kishkas have been eaten through. He never spoke to anyone about his problems and concerns (ever) -- not to me, not to the kids, not to friends, not to a professional. He just pretended to be happy -- and I never knew that he wasn't. Surprise!
So, what precipitated his leaving? David was offered a new job - 2 days clinical and 3 days administrative at the hospital that owns his primary care practice. Suddenly there was going to be a lot more money and a lot more time at home on weekends and in the evening. I was thrilled and encouraged him to take the job. He, on the other hand, dreaded the additional time at home. So instead of talking to anyone (old story) and trying to work things out, he went to a lawyer and told the lawyer that I wanted out as much as he did. Wrong!
Well that is the background. What will happen going forward? Will we be able to reconcile at some future time? Now that I am thinking about my marriage and finding out that it has been loveless on his part for years, do I even want to reconcile? Will I find someone else -- do I want to find someone else -- I haven't dated in almost half a century -- how do I even get started? Will I find part time work -- over educated, under skilled, and basically too old (they can't not hire me due to age, but they can find other excuses for not hiring me when they think I am too old)? Will my supportive friends and family get tired of supporting me? Will I ever feel comfortable living on my own (remember, I went from my father's house to my husband's and have never taken care of myself)? Will the loneliness ever ease?
I am tired now and need to take care of my two dogs. Hopefully I will write more tomorrow and every day until my story has resolved. It does, however, feel better just getting a little bit off my chest.
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