Saturday, 18 January 2014


You've probably heard me say it, if you've spent any time with me in person, that line I use to describe the outcome of my divorce. "She got the house, the car, the furniture, the dog, the tools, the friends and the kids. All I got was my freedom. I think I did okay." Well that's pure hyperbole. First of all, only two of my children are living with her; the other two live on their own, unfortunately still afar but certainly not trapped in the house that I help pay for but don't get to live in. On top of that my son lived with me for a year, arriving right after my diagnosis and leaving almost a year to the day afterwards. Secondly, I did get a financial settlement. While it was certainly not all I could have gotten if I had fought to the bitter end, I wanted an end to the bitterness, so I settled.

There are some things my ex-wife kept that I miss, things like my sewing stuff and tools, things I probably couldn't used even if I had them, things that are easy to replace. But the things I miss most of all are the memories; the trigger for those being the hundreds of photographs that we had take over the years, photographs of our children, of time together, of places seen and explored, of a life lived in union. I miss looking at a picture of my daughters when they were small, of my son on his first day of school, of a picnic by Rolley Lake, of Christmas' long past.

My own photo album starts with digital photography, a storehouse of pictures as if time started in June, 2002. While that is well over a decade ago, my son was already 12, a recalcitrant near-teenager not wanting to be with us, seeking to have is own apartheid, a life separate from his Mom and Dad. He also, like the others, disliked the almost constant tension that had taken up residence in our marriage by then. I have no pictures of him as a little boy, helping to make cookies or playing in the living room.

By the time my pictures begin, Kate was 16 going on 17, Meaghan had graduated from high school and Mary was off living on her own. I have no pictures from when we were all a family, a unit together. I am going to ask my children for help with this. I want to remember, I want to go back to when there was a before. I want to see those children who laughed, loved Mommy and Daddy, played in the yard, jumped from trees, stacked blocks, and simply were there. I want those memories.

1 comment:

  1. You dont just want those memories, you need them.Would your ex let you borrow them and you could scan and print the ones you wanted to keep? If not, Im sure Nan or other family members would have some to share.