For the most part the man knew exactly what he needed to get and I was there along for the ride or to help with carrying or possibly picking out paint colors. Sometimes we would go and work the project out in our heads. And I guess as a lot of people do, a quick sweep of the nursery for potential new plants or an attractive pot for the front porch, we always spent way more than we should've.
Tonight as I entered the doors alone, I knew the store would not fail me as my needs were pretty basic. What I did not expect to find, while standing in the aisle staring at drillbits and snap in screw drivers, was a feeling of profound grief. Interesting since I feel grateful to be out of that relationship and for the growth that has occurred since it ended. Perhaps there's just that little part of me still wishes for that completely intact family. It has nothing to do with the man anymore. It has nothing to do with the ending of a 30 year marriage. It has everything to do with the dreams of a little girl to achieve something better for herself and for her family than the broken shit that I called my childhood. Somehow I equated a successful marriage as happiness, fullfillment and security. Maybe safety is a better word. Perhaps, for the child in me, it equaled being safe.
The feeling came and went. The ache peaked but it no longer takes me to my knees. I feel it and recognize it and then I move forward.
Got my necessary hardware and now I'm going home to hang a chalkboard in the kitchen. The Boy Scout is there cooking dinner for tomorrow nights get together with friends. He'll be dancing to the Mark Knopfler station on pandora and have a big smile on his face.
What is success? That remains to be seen.