I’m reaping the benefits of working from home. Sitting pantless on the staged downstairs couch, I’m watching the third season of Bridgerton. Could I have explored this space similarly with my pants on? Sure, but it wouldn’t feel this free.
I know Dave won’t mind me sharing this; I thought about divorce yesterday. Now, the story.
Last night, in bed, not going anywhere, I asked Dave to borrow his headphones. His long pause before a “Uh, sure,” before adding, “Can’t you just use yours” made my body sputter to a stop. A heavy protection filled my chest leading me to take the headphones. I fumbled with them, then handed them back. “Never mind,” I said, standing. “Do you want me to get them for you?” He asked, but I felt a whatever, mumbled a no, and walked out.
For an hour leading up until sleep, I visualized the relationship’s end.
I sat with that rock in my shoe until this morning, and finding him awake in bed said. “I was really hurt that you didn’t want to give me your headphones.” He laughed. Then I repeated, “Like really hurt, Dave.” Seeing me serious, he changed, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” “Then why did you,” I asked. “I knew it was paired with my laptop and phone and worried about the Bluetooth connecting.”
No Big D for us today, like from country singer Mark Chestnutt’s song “I’m going through the Big D and don’t be Dallas. I can’t believe what the judge had to tell us, I got the jeep and she got the palace.”
I’ve been adding my opinions and advice on Reddit’s Ask a Therapist again. I enjoy it. One poster shared an insecurity about therapists, wondering if they have “favorites,” before saying, “I’m aware that it’s a job and not some kind of friendship. It’s still weird to know that my therapist will forget me the second I walk out until he reads his notes to remember who I am next week.” My answer was this: I have warm, positive feelings for all my clients. I genuinely care about them and often think of them during my off hours. I look forward to seeing them. It’s tough when they struggle but incredibly rewarding when they succeed.
And as can happen on Reddit, another user gave me an award, two blue hands clapping. I’m unsure what it means. On that site, rewards are like a hall monitor noticing you threw away litter and giving you extra recess time. It feels good.
My friend Lindsay’s in-memoriam speech about her father is just about done. On a Facetime call, we had a second round of edits. In the first draft conversation, I asked her to go deeper into her Dad and her son’s relationship, as I know it is as significant to him as it was to her. Towards the end of her talk, I encouraged her to put down the paper and talk from the heart, specifically about the moment after the doctors said there was nothing more they could do, and that he had three weeks at home before he’d die. In the hospital room, she’d needed her dad’s help on how they were going to tell her son, his grandson, the news. She said, “It was me going to him one last time for parenting advice. And he said he’d do whatever I needed. Then later, when he sat down with Ethan, he had a smile on his face the whole time.”
I know telling that part will be heart-wrenching for her, but also she talks about how important it is to stay grateful in the midst of grief. And then she ends it, with beautiful moments, like her holding on to his belt at events so she’d feel comfortable, or dancing with him in the living room in her mom’s bridesmaid’s dress.
I’m grateful for a slower paced life, for time to connect more with my family between calls stomping barefoot in rain puddles.
And I also appreciate you. Thanks for coming here.
Love, Jaclynn
Going On 40 