Day 33

Today, I handed the keys to my house over to the renters. It was a strange feeling to be relinquishing the house I have lived in for seven years. The moving process was grueling, and I only made it though because of the help of many wonderful friends and family members. It was amazing how much stuff we had accumulated in seven years. I often found myself angry during the moving. Here I was working my ass off – sorting through piles of belongings, hauling boxes, and organizing volunteers. And all the while, he is living a “new” and responsibility-free life in Denver. It just didn’t seem fair, or right, or even logical. I had always envisioned us moving out together and into a larger, nicer home. We had talked and dreamed about that together.

After the moving and cleaning was complete, my feelings of anger shifted toward sadness and despair. Looking at the empty house brought so many memories flooding back. I sat in the empty house and watched a picture-show of memories run across the walls. Two of our three children had been welcomed home as newborns into this house. We celebrated Archie’s 4^th – 8^th birthdays there and would have celebrated number 9 if he hadn’t left one week prior to it. Seven Christmases – all of them filled with family traditions, laughter, and love. Seven summers filled with sprinklers, plastic swimming pools, and bike rides around the neighborhood. Neighbors that we laughed at together and eavesdropped on through open windows while laying in bed on summer nights. The neighborhood park, which facilitated many picnics and evenings together as a family. The backyard garden and the strawberry patch we had worked on for many years. The kitchen, where meals were shared with friends and family. The nursery, where babies were rocked to sleep. And the living room, where family games nights were frequent and enjoyed by all.

And with all these memories, I also must acknowledge the pain that I endured during the seven years at Evergreen, as well as the secrets I have found since his departure. The boxes stuffed full of evidence that had been shoved in the attic. The bags of receipts and credit card statements stuffed behind the garage cabinets. The mailbox, where I had occasionally uncovered his secrets but failed to see as red flags. And the bedroom, where four months before he left he had shoved Oliver aside and told me he would relinquish his parental rights after I asked to look through his cell phone. And yet, I had held onto hope that I could somehow “fix” him. That he could be successful, honest, and live with integrity. The house is full of memories, and I see him everywhere inside and outside of it. Sometimes I can still hear the sounds of his car pulling up next to the mailbox, where he used to park. I can see him getting out, walking up the sidewalk, and coming in to the sounds of “Daddy’s home! Daddy’s home!”

Farewell Evergreen. You were a good, safe, and strong house. I will always remember the moments in time that were captured inside your walls. I trust that the future will hold more memories and maybe another house for me and the kids. But we’ll never forget about our very first house we called our own. The husband and daddy we loved got lost along the way and is now gone. Then again….maybe he never really existed.

Day 32

Today I found out about the girlfriend. It’s amazing what phone records and the internet can provide. Needless to say, this provided another round of shock, denial, and sadness for me. To feel like I wasn’t good enough is the most sickening feeling. The kids and I were like garbage to him…disposable when we no longer served a purpose. My thoughts now revolve around what he is doing, or rather, what they are doing. I cannot even begin to imagine giving up your children for a life with someone you’ve only met once and have only “known” for a matter of months.

My next goal is to amend the divorce papers to say “adultery” as the reason for separation. Currently it reads “irreconcilable differences” as cause. I was hoping to list abandonment; however, in order to do that – I’d have to wait one year to prove legitimate abandonment! Honestly?! I find it comical that the court system expects me to wait for ONE YEAR to prove that the kids and I have actually been abandoned. We lost the house, I am scrapping by with the little money I have left, and I am working for free for the business he left behind (because he took so much money that the business cannot afford to pay me). He walked out of our home and pretended he would be back in a few hours. And now I have to wait for one year to be able to say I’ve been abandoned!?!

As if my situation isn’t already bad enough, I now have to live with the notion that our “differences” could somehow have been reconciled. I definitely participated in my share of reconciliation over the years. Every time he lied to me or stole from me, I reconciled. It was far worse to be alone than to live with a liar. Even now that he’s gone, there are days when I long for company and companionship so desperately that I would gladly look the other way while he lies, cheats, and steals. I recognize that this is terribly unhealthy and wrong of me, and yes, I am now in counseling.

32 days ago, he took our children to an activity for Archie’s cub scouts. It was a pizza party, and the kids had to build their own pizzas. I was at church rehearsing for Sunday’s praise band, and I was so grateful that he was willing to take all three kids with him. He periodically sent me text messages throughout the night, updating me about how much fun he and the kids were having. It was the very last activity that he did with the kids, and I often wonder if he knew that it was.

Day 28

I hate Sundays. He left on a Sunday, but it’s more than just that. Sundays were family days. For the past couple of years, Sundays had been the only day that he and I had off together. Our routine was having breakfast as a family, going to church, and then taking the kids out to lunch afterwards. The kids looked forward to these lunches all week. It was a special treat and a guaranteed time that we all had together without the distractions of work, school, or extracurricular activities. More often than not, we had Chinese food. Needless to say, the kids and I haven’t been able to eat Chinese food since he left. He loved Chinese food, and the kids have acquired a love for it as well. When we lived in Portland, we would visit Chinatown. Archie and his dad would eat anything if it was called Chinese. Sometimes our Sunday lunches were held at the park that is down the street from the church. I would pack a picnic lunch, and we would spend the afternoon eating and watching the kids play at the playground. Oliver would run back and forth across the open, grassy area and would periodically stop to rest between his dad and me on the picnic blanket. I haven’t been able to go to church or to the park since he left. I see him everywhere I go, and I imagine the conversations we would have in various places. He used to always pass me notes in church, and now I don’t even have anyone to sit with. Each Sunday since that Mother’s Day, I have been haunted by the events of that day. Everything seemed so normal. Everything seemed so real. But the facts I have uncovered since that day have made me realize that nothing was real or normal about that day or the days surrounding it. In fact, nothing appears to have been real about the person I shared a bed with for 11 years.

It’s been 4 weeks today. It is 1:36 right now, which is about the time it was when he left for “work” that Sunday. He left at 1:48, and I spent the afternoon and evening in complete oblivion of what he was doing. While I was tidying up the house that afternoon, he was booking a flight to Denver and pulling out thousands of dollars from a business line of credit. While the kids and I ate dinner that Mother’s Day, he was boarding a flight for Denver that departed at 6:54. And while I was bathing the kids and putting them to bed, he was arriving in Denver, leasing a rental car, and settling in somewhere for the night. It was not until 10:38 (2 hours after he had arrived in Denver and 2 hours after I had tucked the kids into bed for the night) that I discovered my life had changed forever.

Day 27

Today I finished off the tube of toothpaste that we shared for the past several months and that I have been using since he left. And that is about all I can say today….

Day 25

Yesterday was a landmark day. I filed papers at the courthouse for divorce, child protection/custody, and child support. It was quite an ordeal, as my attorney is located in the north end of Boise, and the courthouse I file at is located in Caldwell. The kids and I spent the better part of the day in the car, and I went through a half tank of gas. As I was driving around accomplishing all these things, I kept thinking how ironic it is that I am the one who is inevitably responsible for paying for and processing the documents required for divorce. The irony lies in the fact that I was clearly not the partner who wanted “out.” Furthering the difficulty is the fact that he still refuses to disclose his location. Because I cannot serve him the divorce papers, I now have to pay to have a legal notice published in the Denver newspaper. Once this has been published and the 20 days required for him to contest have passed, a judge will likely grant all elements of the divorce and child support petitions. Although I know his intention is probably to never pay me a penny, my hope is that he will eventually be held responsible for his decisions and actions.

We have not had contact with him for 12 days. With the absence of text messages and emails, more theories have surfaced about why he left and where he might be. One leading theory is that he was a closet homosexual and had to flee to fulfill his true life path. Another recently developed theory is that he is no longer in Denver, but is now hiding in Mexico…where money lasts longer and it is easier to disappear. Whatever the true story is, it seems evident that this was planned and that he has no intentions of ever taking responsibility for the actions and decisions he made in his “old” life. The evidence continues to mount, including a $7,000 cash advance, a half dozen maxed out credit cards, and evidence that he owns a gun.

The kids continue to do fairly well under the circumstances. Archie is still the most significantly affected one. He has been sleeping a lot and seems to have slipped into a minor depression. He now asks me when I will remarry, which leads me to believe that what he misses the most is the reassurance of a complete family unit. He is wise beyond his years and has started to understand that his dad is in quite a bit of trouble. I fear that his teenage years may be difficult without the presence of his father.

Life continues to be very fast-paced for me. Always seems to be a million things to do. The business is doing better than expected – probably because the skimming off the top has come to an end. I start my next semester of classes next Monday, which should be somewhat of a challenge. However, I am so very determined to finish my degree so that I can make a better life for my children.

My sadness has definitely tapered somewhat, but I still miss him during quiet moments. Nights are the most difficult, and I am often the most lonely then. I miss the security of having him around…if that even makes sense. I still have visions of him and can remember the “lasts.” The last time he mowed the yard (he was wearing camouflage pants and an orange shirt), the last meal we ate as a family (breakfast at Rick’s Press Room on Mother’s Day), the last time he grilled on his beloved Webber, and the last touch (a brief hug before he left for “work” that day). It breaks my heart to reach the conclusion that while I was naively enjoying these moments in time, he was plotting his escape with a calculating and razor-sharp objective.