No More Coffee Spoons

10 Dec

I spent most of yesterday packing.  No, I haven’t heard yet whether or not my offer on the little house has been accepted, but I might as well do something productive with my time.  And it feels good to be moving towards something rather than sitting around wallowing in self-pity.  I’ve cried enough tears for a lifetime, and I’m done with that part of the process.

For now, anyway.

I wrapped and packed most of my breakables.  Too many knickknacks and tschotskes.   Too much stuff.  Grandma’s Depression Glass.  Aunt Marian’s Norman Rockwell figurines.  Aunt Ida’s thimbles.  Aunt Verna’s tiny porcelain shoes.   Mom’s Monet prints.

None of this is mine.

I started looking around.  Really looking.

The rustic log-style bedroom set was chosen by my husband.  The cherry dining room furniture belonged to my aunts.  I made the curtains from fabric given to me by my mother-in-law to go with furniture that I didn’t pick out.

None of this is mine.

I went to a job interview yesterday in a blouse given to me by my sister.  When I got home, I used my mother-in-law’s meatloaf recipe to make dinner.  With venison from a deer shot by my husband.  That’s right, I cooked Bambi.  And I made him taste good.

I used to march in front of an animal research facility, waving a protest sign for animal rights.  Now I am married to a hunter and I cook wild animals.  Who the hell am I?

None of this is mine.

My daughter asked me if I plan on changing my name after the divorce.  I honestly hadn’t thought about it.  I can’t go back to my maiden name; Amy Hyde doesn’t exist anymore.  She was young and naïve and didn’t always have a lot of common sense when it came to putting foundations under the castles she built in the air.  She trusted people too easily and she believed in Happily Ever After.

One of my old friends just told me “I wanna see the Amy that I used to know.”  Well, she’s gone.  She grew up.

The person I have become doesn’t believe in Happily Ever After.  She rolls her eyes when she hears people spout nonsense like “The heart wants what the heart wants!”  She paints her walls in a sensible shade of eggshell and buys a common-sense brown Berber for the entire house.  She doesn’t even own a pair of heels because flats just make more sense.

None of this is mine.

I always hated it when I heard people talk about “finding themselves”.  It seemed so ridiculously self-indulgent.  While others around me babbled about taking time to find themselves, I laughed behind their backs and got on with living my life.   Get a job, get married, feed the kids.  Get up in the morning, go to bed at night, measure out life in coffee spoons.  Day by day.

None of this is mine.

I don’t know how to decorate my new house.  I have no idea what my style is.  I don’t know what I want or what I like.  Rustic? Classic?  Country?  No clue.

When –not if – I start dating again, I don’t know where to begin.  What do I find attractive in a man?  What’s my “type”?

Life has given me the cleanest of clean slates.  I have an opportunity to “find myself” in ways I never could as a married woman.  I have choices.  And I am choosing to see this as a chance for my new life, not a reason to give up.  I am choosing not to be angry anymore.

This is all mine.

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4 Responses to “No More Coffee Spoons”

  1. Meg December 10, 2013 at 4:46 pm #

    This is so vulnerable and revealing. Props to you for letting yourself hurt, bleed, and heal. Hang in there, Lovely.

  2. QuiltnMama December 10, 2013 at 5:28 pm #

    Go find what’s ‘yours’, ladybug, and I’m sending more hugs from Texas…and giggles that you made Bambi taste good! LOL!!

  3. shandamorris@rocketmail.com December 10, 2013 at 6:37 pm #

    Wow i love it…..So sad i have been there before in my life experience .

  4. chesterperson December 13, 2013 at 5:12 am #

    I found a space in my life and although not exactly the circumstances that you have… not too disimilar….and I fretted and agitated… and i have found unexpected things coming in…. taking up lino cutting for one!! which people tell me I am marvellous at…. who knew!! that not knowing can be oh so much more uncomfortable than the doing the expected that so many of us women just fall into… for most of our lives… you are probably already doing things in a ‘you’ way.. visible to others but not very much to yourself… it will come… really…. happy journeying… and in the meantime… than you for the blog… you are certainly a writer! :)

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