Re-Runs and Leftovers: The Death of My Marriage

On this day, 6 years ago, my marriage died. Oh, it had actually been wheezing it's last breaths for awhile but on that day, it was pronounced dead at about 6:30am. It gasped and choked and yelled out - but it died nonetheless.

And I'm glad it did.

There's no reason to rehash details and juicy tidbits. There's no point in dragging out dead bodies to point and whisper about. It doesn't matter who said what - it died. It was over. And two people were left heartbroken and devestated.

No, I know - I hear ya..."What?! Why are you thankful for this? How does this work for you? Are you insane?? Have you lost your MIND woman?!" Patience, grasshopper. Patience.

I am taking the time, right now, to be thankful that my marriage died. Do I wish it hadn't come to that? Sure - who wants that kind of heartbreak and hurt?? But it happened and we have to grow from it.

Even though our marriage was dead, we headed up to his parents house for Thanksgiving dinner. If visits to my in-laws were uncomfortable before, it was downright unpleasant that weekend. We yelled and fought and cried. There was begging and pleading and bargaining. Finally, resignation and decisions to make.

I kept flashing back to that day ... the day it was declared dead. Something kept sticking out in my brain and smacking me over the head. While I was at the mall, I was drowning in sadness and pain and wondering what I was going to do now. I looked up and saw a plaque. Right in the middle of a wall full of plaques, the one that stood out to me said "Love Never Fails". Ahh..a bible verse. A sign from God? A message? Comfort? Yeah, I think so, too.

So while we hashed out the death of our marriage I kept thinking of that comfort that was extended to me. To this day I still hold on to that comfort ... that promise.

We screwed up, Rob and I. We made mistakes and we got lazy. We made horrible choices and we stopped trying. We were both responsible for the untimely demise of our marriage.

In one heart wrenching moment, standing outside in the bitter November cold (in Montana!) a decision was made. We were yelling and crying - both of us hurting. I pushed and pushed until he started to walk away, defeated. And I felt my soul rip in two. I fell to my knees in the snow and cried "Please..please don't leave me."

And so it began. The mending and fixing. The learning. It wasn't ok for a very, very long time. It was a horribly long year full of counseling and reading; listening and talking; and Nacho Therapy.

Nacho Therapy: (Here's the works for me part...) Rob and I would go out to a restaurant once a week. We wouldn't always get Nachos but the name just stuck. At nacho therapy you talk. There are rules to be followed, though. No interrupting. No judging. No getting defensive. And, yk, since you're in public it's a lot harder to scream and yell and stomp off crying to lock yourself in the bathroom. I'm just saying. It kind of forces you to act like grown ups and talk. We read the Book The Five Love Languages and did the workbook section in the back, seperately. At Nacho Therapy we shared our answers with each other. Did I cry in public? Uh..hello? Yeah. Did we ever leave angry? Sure we did. But it worked for us - both the Nacho Therapy and The Five Love Languages.

Here we are, 6 years later, better people for it all. Our marriage may have died, but a new - better one was born in it's place. We are still working on it, and I sincerely hope we never stop. Because it's there...in that valley where you sit down to rest that you start letting it go. The Anger mosquitos eat you alive and the shoulda woulda coulda gnats fly around your face until you're too tired to swat them away. Finally, the snake of temptation will bite you and you will succomb.

So we choose to still fight. Because our marriage is worth fighting for - and not just for our kids. For us.

Originally Posted by heidi at 12:05 AM Wednesday, November 26, 2008