to zero

Twenty.

Two. Zero.

A marriage milestone was passed this week.  It brought no fanfare; no celebration; no well-wishes; no joy.  Numbers, at this point, are mere legal technicalities.  The nice round number twenty being the anti-climatic climax.

Climax, because there is no anticipated twenty-first.

Twenty years ago, boxes were being unpacked and our stuff mingled.  Ironically, twenty years later, boxes are being packed, and our stuff divided.

Sad.

Sad, but necessary.

This has been coming for quite some time.  I resisted it for a while.  A long while.  But, I've since thrown in the proverbial towel.  It will soon be time to make it legal, and I concur.

But, how do you forget?

How do you forget the anniversary of the happiest day of your life.  Even the pain of divorce can't alter the reality of the happiness of my wedding day.  It may seem surreal now, since my marriage has lacked happiness for years, but I can't just pretend like it wasn't one of the all-time happiest days of my life.  From my current vantage point, I can't help but wish I'd never made those vows twenty years ago.  Except the kids... I would not wish them away.  But, you know what I'm saying... perhaps my life would have been much happier had I taken a different path twenty years ago.  Life does have re-starts, but there are no re-dos.

I don't think I will ever forget.  I've never been the stereotyped guy that forgets his anniversary.  I likely never will, though I might like to.  Because, even when the numbers cease to tally, the day will always be the anniversary of a wonderful day.  For a guy who tends toward nostalgia and sentimentality... that isn't easy.  What once was one of the happiest of days, will likely rank among the saddest of days.

Twenty.

Two. Zero.

Where to from here?

To zero.

non-sterile

During no other time in history has the forming and dissolving of relationships been so public.  The advent of social media has made the lives of the masses who choose to engage in it much more public.  It adds a very interesting layer to this process of relationship.  We now have to "manage" our "online presence".  We have new words associated with friendships and relationships... such as "unfriended" or "blocked".  Nobody ever really taught most of us how to manage our online presence, because nobody ahead of us ever heard of such a thing.

We are online pioneers.

So, we wing it.

Though this post is not meant to be critical, I have noticed something that unnerves me just a little.  I have witnessed a number of long-term relationships crash and burn within my facebook circle.  Some manage their online presence more tactfully than others, but almost without fail, I see one commonality... the sterilization of the online presence.

Every trace of that ex-whatever is wiped out of profiles.

Gone.

Deleted.

Erased.

Eliminated.

The online presence is sterilized as though eradicating a deadly bacteria.

And it unnerves me because it is history.  I see social media (both this blog and my facebook page) not just as an in-the-moment whimsical time killer, but as an account of my life's history.  Both, but mainly this blog, are a running autobiography, of sorts.

Editing folks out of my online presence is essentially rewriting my history.  I'm not sure I'm okay with that.  If I took the time to record something with or about someone in the "pages" of my online presence, then the event, thought, or emotion was significant in that moment.  Just because I may now feel very differently does not mean that it was not valid in that moment.  And, because I chose to record it, it becomes a part of my personal history.

What I am in this moment is hollow and empty if I rewrite the history that made me.

I often try to filter things through my kids.  My online presence is their history, too.  While displaying pictures of an individual from a  past relationship in your home would just be weird, it's not the same with social media.  My marriage really happened.  18 years of life really happened.  And because of that, four kids really happened.  And they deserve to have some preservation of that aspect of their history.

While I am still married, it is now reduced to little more than a business arrangement and the proverbial handwriting is on the wall.  I'm not trying to sound holier-than-others, but I have had a season to ponder... more than many in this situation.  I'm not making guarantees, but if divorce happens, I'm thinking I won't sterilize my history.  While I have made some adjustments to what is being posted in the present, I'm hoping to leave history intact.  As a blogger, I think an accurate history of the past lends a richness to the present that can be lost to sterilization.

A related event occurred today that prompted this post.  I have my facebook account set to show memories... things that have been posted "on this date" over the course of my seven-plus year account.  I had a significant-to-me multi-decade friendship go bad a few years back.  The details aren't important to this post, but the friendship is not salvageable.  I believe in forgiveness but that does not always equal restoration, and in this case it does not.  I toyed with sterilizing this person from my blog and facebook history, but I chose not to. (They have been unfriended, but the past content is intact.)  I have kept it in my history as a less-significant-than-a-spouse test of my theory that one should carefully weigh social media sterilization. Today, a link to a blog post written about this friendship (when it still was a friendship) popped up in my facebook memories.  At first, some of the pain started to resurface.  But, along with the pain was a reminder of lessons that have been learned.  As I've pondered it throughout the day, it cemented the idea that I am who I am today partly because of both the good and bad aspects of that significant piece of my history.

Time will tell, but it has been said, "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger"... I think I may just continue to run with my history non-sterile.

better?

I didn't really think about this until after the fact, but I realized this week that I think I might be a little better.  Let me explain...

I've shared a number of times in this blog that most of my forth decade has been fraught with hardships and discouragements.  Not that there haven't been some good times mixed in, but I feel like I've been through the wringer with finances, employment, home remodeling, a child with disabilities... and the one I've mostly kept to myself until recently, a failing marriage and impending divorce.

The effect of all this has been to drive this introvert further into a years-long shell of solitude... and depression.  I have had to push through, because I am currently the sole provider and I have five other people counting on me to provide.  But, getting through a typical day-- or week-- left me with very little emotional energy.  What I did have left often went to my kids, leaving me tapped out.  I mostly turned down social invitations and rarely visited anyone... even my immediate family.  I just didn't have the emotional energy.

Part of the social invitation hangup was that I really hate phony.  My marriage has been the equivalent of being in a coma, but kept on life support, for multiple years.  But very few knew.  I don't like feeling like I have to pretend to be the happy family facebook made us look like.  But it didn't seem right to "go public" with some of the painful elements of my life.  So, I carried secrets and struggled with non-clinical depression for a long time.

Though I may have made more than my share of mistakes as a husband and father, I can honestly say that I have lived most of my adult life for my wife and children.  Prior to and throughout my marriage, nearly everything I did-- even the mistakes-- were for the good (or what I thought to be the good) of my family or future family.  My lifestyle bears witness of this.  If you walk though my home and garage, you won't find the trappings of expensive toys and hobbies.  You'll find a modest lifetime collection of backpacking and hiking gear, a low end GPS for geocaching, a 30 year-old mountain bike, and a base model kayak.  That is pretty much the extent of my "man hobbies".  My family is my hobby, and as much as possible, I try to incorporate them into what little bit of "man hobbies" I have.

I don't say this to pat myself on the back, but rather to illustrate that the prospect of losing a spouse (even of a mediocre marriage) and "half" of the lives of my children is a huge blow to this family man.  Being in a "holding pattern" has it's advantages, like still seeing my kids every day.  But, it also has it's struggles, like not being able to rebuild a new life after a failed marriage.  It just leaves you stuck.

And, for me, that has been stuck in a dark, depressing emotional hole... my shell of solitude and depression.  It's not a healthy place to be.  Then again, neither is it healthy for an introvert to be forcing himself into a world of phony.

But, I think I might be a little better.

I still don't want to be a divorced dad.  I still don't want to have my family fractured and 18 years of my life and family divided up.  I still don't want to start a new life at age fifty.  However, I think I'm somewhat coming to terms with it.  I realize it's still going to get worse-- likely a lot worse-- before it gets better.  Divorce is hell.  But, you can't make someone love you that doesn't or won't.  You can't make someone forgive, or whatever it is they need to do to give marriage another chance.  You can fight for them, believe in them, give them time and grace.  You can self examine, self loathe, and self improve.  At some point, though, you have to look in the mirror and admit to yourself that you have left no stone unturned to save your marriage, but you can't right the ship.  It's taking on water faster than you can bail, and there's nothing you can do about it... it's goin' down.

But, while looking in that mirror, I'm starting to like what I see.  I'm still far from perfect, but I'm getting more comfortable hanging out with myself.  My family is still of utmost importance to me, but I'm becoming more of an individual.  I can enjoy a balance of being with them and solitude... a healthy solitude.  I was hesitant to "come out" on my blog about my marriage, but it has given me more freedom to be real.

And, you know what?

All of this "coming to terms" has allowed me to poke my head ever so slightly out of my shell of solitude and depression.

And, that brings me to this week's reflections...

This past Saturday was my extended family's twenty-somethingth  annual chili cook-off.  It is an excuse to get together with aunts, uncles and cousins in the dead of winter.  Folks bring a pot of chili and a few sides and we vote on the best chili and then sit around and eat and visit the rest of the day.

And... I went.

Chili contestants:  Uncle Charles, Marge, Dad, Laurel (my SIL), me

I planned food to share and went grocery shopping earlier in the week.  I made [losing] chili and baked homemade chocolate chip cookies to share.  I bought a bin of pretzel rods that I knew Benny would exist on for the day.  I packed toys to keep Benny occupied.  I packed swimsuits and towels for the rented cabin's hot tub.  I packed it all in the van and took four kids for the day.  I did it pretty much as a single dad would.

And, it was a bit exhausting.

But, I did it.

I'm not bragging.  I'm also not saying it's going to be my new norm... I am and will always be an introvert.  Nor am I saying that I am done with my shell of solitude and depression.

But, I'm kinda proud of myself.  And... I think I might be a little... better!

peace

Faith is a topic that is woven here and there throughout my blog posts, but I don't over-spiritualize things here... at least I don't think so.  I sometimes write about faith in topical or reflective ways, but I am very hesitant to report "God moments".  However, Sunday past was a bit of a unique day that merits a post.

It started like many other Sundays... getting myself up and making sure all four kids were up and moving in time to get out the door for church by nine.  Once at church, the three older kids went to their classes and I made a bathroom stop with Benny and dropped him at his Sunday School class, then settled into a pew in the sanctuary for the worship service.

I attend a fairly large church where I know almost nobody (because I feel they are accommodating to children with disabilities).  At first, it felt very lonely to attend worship services by myself and be surrounded by hundreds of strangers, but I have mostly grown accustomed to it.  Although I believe interaction with others is valuable and I sometimes wish I had some guy-friends at church, there are times when I like the loneliness.  I can lift my voice boldly in songs of praise to my God because I am joining with hundreds of other voices, yet I am essentially an unknown face and I can just be "me", without any expectations that church folk sometimes place on each other.  At this point in my life, it works.

On this Sunday, I was just a bit earlier than usual, so I took a moment to enjoy the solitude of the sanctuary.  Though there were many people gathered, I was undisturbed as I took in the atmosphere...dimmed lights, tasteful holiday decor, and a soft pre-worship instrumental music.  I quickly felt relaxed and reverent as I anticipated a good service ahead.

I had plenty of time to check my phone and make sure it was on vibrate (in case Ben's teachers needed me).  While on my phone, I decided to do a facebook "check-in"... something I only very occasionally do.  I don't use it often, but I selected the "feeling" option and scrolled through the choices.  I was looking for something like "reverent", but it was not there.  I couldn't find a feeling that perfectly matched the moment, but after debating a few I selected "peaceful".  I hit post and told all my friends I was feeling peaceful at ******** Church of the Christian and Missionary Alliance.  Then the service began.

(names deleted for my own privacy)

My Pastor is currently doing a series on characters in the Christmas story.  This particular day, he featured Joseph and Mary. He spoke of the uncertainty that they both faced when their lives were turned upside down by the news that Mary was with child .  He shared how their initial reaction was fear and doubt, but their turmoil gave way to peace as an angel visited them both independently with the message, "do not be afraid".  Although their path had difficulties, they each chose to respond with acceptance and obedience to the change of plans in their lives.  He then challenged us by asking what areas of our lives do we need God's message of peace in the words "do not be afraid"?

Wow... message of peace!  Ironically, moments before I reported feeling peaceful.  But, as I examined my life in the quiet reflective moments of the service, I had to admit my life is characterized by many fears and doubts... and I actually have very little peace.  In those moments, I felt God's spirit prompting me that I am facing very uncertain days ahead and I am living in fear.  I fear the result of my failing marriage.  I fear the uncertainty of a seemingly unavoidable divorce.  I fear what will become of my relationship and time with my kids.  I fear the finances of divorce and the finances (or lack thereof) after the dust of divorce settles.

I am always very nervous about sharing "God moments" because it's not like I heard audible voices, but at that moment, I felt like the words of those scriptures were put there just for me... "do not be afraid".  It was almost as if God were putting his fatherly arm around my shoulder and telling me, "I know these are uncertain times and it's likely to get worse before it gets better, but do not be afraid... I'm right here with you, son."  I breathed a short prayer and asked God to give me a spirit of acceptance, obedience, trust and peace in the midst of my circumstances.

That afternoon was sunny and in the 50's, which is rare for December in northeast Ohio.  I decided to head out to a local State Park in the late afternoon for a few hours of quiet in the form of hiking and geocaching.  The park was nearly deserted this time of year and I thoroughly enjoyed the mild December day.

Geocaching often brings you to spots like this!

On my return back to the car, I hiked a trail that went along the edge of a cliff that bordered the lake.  The sun was beginning to set and the sky was illuminating with brilliance.  I stopped a few times to take a few photos as I hiked.

Wow!

I thought it couldn't get any better, but the colors just kept improving...

At one point I stopped hiking, laced my hands behind my head, crossed my feet, stretched out on the ground at the cliff's edge and just watched the finale.  I stayed there until almost dark.  There was not another person anywhere around and it was one of the most tranquil moments I have experienced in a long time.  It almost felt like I was the only person on earth.  As I laid there, Pastor's sermon came back to mind and I ruminated on the words some more.  I spent some moments in prayer, which seemed natural in the tranquility of the "sanctuary".  Again... "God moments" aren't abundant in my life, but it was almost as if God once again put his arm around my shoulder and said, "son, you asked for greater peace... I made these moments just for you!"

I drove my old high-mileage car home without mishap and parked it in the driveway.  About an hour later, I needed to pick up Lily at a Bible club she attends at the church up the road.  I jumped back in my car and as I stepped on the brake to put the car in gear, a brake line blew out and the pedal went to the floor... sitting still in my driveway!  In the theme of the day, it was just one more way the sermon and my prayers came back to roost... almost as if the fatherly arm was once more on my shoulder with the message... "life won't always be easy, but I've got your back... do not be afraid!"

I'm still fearful of unknowns... I'm human, after all.  But, my fear won't change any of the outcomes.  However, I am thankful for the reminders that even though there may be storm clouds ahead, I'm facing them with the God who paints sunsets, and in that I can find some peace.  

treatise on marriage

A wedding happens when two starry-eyed lovers recite promise-laden words to one another.

But, a marriage happens when the same two folks spend a lifetime learning just what it was they promised.

Because I consider myself a self-proclaimed writer, I want to use this medium to clarify and solidify what 18 years has taught me about just what it was I promised.

Despite promises, our marriage has been slowly imploding for much of it's duration (see previous post, state of the union)... something to which we have each, in different ways, contributed. While we both may be able to find seemingly valid reasons for divorce (probably validated by our respective circles of influence), I want to publicly go on record that it has never been and is not my wish to do so.  I have fought over the course of the last four to five years to defend my marriage and my family, without result.  I write such statements at risk of sounding like a hero... I am not.  For if I were, my marriage probably would not be in its present state.  Perhaps I should have worked harder years ago.  But, marriage is on-the-job training, and often when we finally figure out we suck at it, a lot of damage has been done... at least it appears to be the case for me.

My vows to my wife were of the traditional variety. They went something like this:

I, Jeff, take you Jennifer, to be my lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; until death do us part.

The truth is, it's not all about better, richer and health.  Everyone wants these in a relationship.  But, in every marriage there will be some amount of worse, poorer and sickness.  Some more than others.  How that is handled is often where the strength of a relationship is built.

Marriage is a series of choices.  It starts with a choice to select just one person from a seemingly infinite number of people, and promise to stand by them for a lifetime, through all of life's ups and downs. Sometimes the ups and downs are from without the marriage-- life just throwing stuff at you-- but all too often the ups and downs are from within the marriage... hurts caused by our own human imperfections.

I am in no way excusing bad behavior or poor decisions with what I am about to say.  On the contrary... I have attempted to own my errors (see slogan for life).  But, here's the thing... we are human.  Humans are imperfect.  Marriage is two imperfect people coming together and trying to build a perfect union.  For that to work, there has to be grace... a LOT of grace.  And there's another choice.  The choice to forgive (not excuse) imperfections.  The choice to extend grace.

And rightly so.  Our Creator, God, designed marriage to be a visual representation of His relationship with His creation.  Christians represent the "bride" of Christ, but He created us with a free will.  A will that allows poor choices.  He doesn't excuse those poor choices, but he does extend grace when there is repentance of mistakes.  For marriage to succeed, it must follow this example, though it is difficult, at times.

For me, the deal is this... I committed to stand by my bride through "better OR worse"... without even being able to imagine, at the time, what the worse may be.  I was making a lifetime promise to an imperfect human for which fulfillment would require extending grace toward her (something I struggle with).  And, being an imperfect human, myself, I would need a healthy amount of grace in return.

Casting Crowns voiced it well in their recent song, Broken Together...

What do you think about when you look at me
I know we're not the fairytale you dreamed we'd be
You wore the veil, you walked the aisle, you took my hand
And we dove into a mystery 

How I wish we could go back to simpler times
Before all our scars and all our secrets were in the light
Now on this hallowed ground, we've drawn the battle lines
Will we make it through the night?

It's going to take much more than promises this time
Only God can change our minds 

Maybe you and I were never meant to be complete
Could we just be broken together?
If you can bring your shattered dreams and I'll bring mine
Could healing still be spoken and save us?
The only way we'll last forever, is broken together 

Maybe you and I were never meant to be complete.  Could we just be broken together?  Wow!  That pretty well captures it, doesn't it?

But, my bride is just the first layer.  I see my vows extending beyond Jen.  On my wedding day, I was also making unspoken vows to the future children who would be conceived and adopted within this union... four of them.  Enshrined in my marriage vows were promises to Dylan... to Zachary... to Lily... and to Benny.  Promises to provide them a secure, intact and permanent family to grow up in as children and come home to as adults; to provide an example of following through with commitments and not quitting even when life is hard, disappointing or nothing like it was envisioned; to be an example of an enduring marriage they can anchor to when their own future marriages may be adrift... an example like both my parents and my parents-in-law have provided.  How one deals with the good, the bad and the ugly of marriage has enormous lessons for the young lives watching, and I owe it to them not to give up easily.

I didn't realize the full magnitude then, but my vows were huge.  Speaking for myself, I have struggled in some ways to live up to them, but because I am heavily invested in these five lives as a result of my marriage vows, I believe my marriage and my family is worth fighting for.  I can't just do what is good for me or what makes me happy, because "me" is now permanently grafted to them.  I have to factor what is good and best for a me that extends to six, and I have to look beyond just the present conflict with a long-sighted view.  I believe in vows; I believe in marriage; I believe in family; I believe in forever; and I believe in fixing what's broken rather than discarding it.

Even when feelings of love are virtually nonexistent, at the gut level love is a choice.  I believe if two folks decide together to fight the fight for reconciliation-- to fight for each other more than they fight with each other-- then the feelings can be revived and a marriage rebuilt.  

And, that's my current Treatise on Marriage.  If divorce is my fate, and it appears it someday will be, then I will resign myself to accept it and do my best to rebuild my life.  But, up to the moment of this writing, I maintain that I may have reason to consider it, but it is not my desire.  This family is worth fighting for.

---

Author's note:  Due to the sensitive nature of this post, please make no public comments.  If you wish to comment, please do so privately directly on this blog, where they are moderated (in this case, read but not published).  You may also use my email or facebook messenger, if you have access to those.  Any public facebook comments will be deleted.

state of the union

Difficult.  But, I feel I must...

I am a very private person in most areas of my life.  Sometimes to a prideful fault.  But, the blogger in me and my style of blogging is sometimes a contradiction to that.  My blog is a virtual [limited] public scrapbook of a combination of life events and profound [to me] thoughts.  Some posts are a cathartic processing of thoughts that have a healthy dose of vulnerability.  It is an odd vulnerability that only similar bloggers may understand.  But, after seven years of blogging (yes, BoF is seven years old!), I have discovered a writer within that must continue... if for no other reason than to leave a virtual memoir that my kids may look back over to some day better understand dad.

For that reason, I want and need my blog to be real.

Many online self-published formats often make life look better than reality.  It's natural, I think, and I am probably somewhat guilty.  But, I need my blog to be a little raw, at times, because life can be raw.  I want my kids to read it someday and see real life, not just content that is edited to the point of portraying everything better than they remembered it.

I have often wrestled with how much vulnerability is okay and what is just nunya business.  I wrestle with disclosing things in my blog that involve others and what is an acceptable level of privacy to maintain on their behalf.  This is true of blogging about subjects like Benny's disabilities.  And, it is true of this present subject, as well.

For quite some time, my blogging has felt stifled.  Part of the reason for this is, while pictures may make us look like a happy family, I am not in one of those 50 year marriages written about in the post, fifty [two]!

My marriage is very much in trouble.

Well, that is an understatement...

My marriage is essentially dead.

To some, this statement may seem sudden and my discussion of it in this blog may seem out of place.  The truth is, serious talk of divorce/dissolution has been on the table multiple years, now.  But with four kids and one income, that is just not very feasible.  Jen's current education pursuit will make this choice theoretically more feasible in a few years (he says, believing divorce is never really very feasible, especially involving kids).  For now, we are still functioning as a somewhat fractured family.

My kids (except Benny) are mostly aware of this, so I'm not outing anything here for them to accidentally read.  In order for my blog to be real, I just need to put it out there so I am free to write honestly about my life, if I so choose.

I have tried to figure out how to write about this subject honestly, yet keep things positive and avoid public spouse bashing that is now more prevalent, courtesy of social media.  I have decided the best way to do that is to voice my views on marriage/divorce and possibly chronicle some of the lessons I have learned... the hard way.  Although in these situations, it often appears to each partner to be the other partner's fault, rarely are marriages wrecked single-handedly, and true to that, our marital pain is a two-way street.

So, the state of the union?

My union?

Well, unfortunately, it appears to be in critical condition and labeled "Do Not Resuscitate".

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Author's note:  Due to the sensitive nature of this post, please make no public comments.  If you wish to comment, please do so privately directly on this blog, where they are moderated (in this case, read but not published).  You may also use my email or facebook messenger, if you have access to those.  Any public facebook comments will be deleted.