The Odd Wife

Thursday, March 24, 2005

Divorced Again

And just like that, he is gone.

My mother’s divorce became final today and the man who raised me and who I looked at as a father became of no relation to me. My stepfather is no more.

If there was still a relationship, it would be different, however when my mother moved out he became a recluse who shunned any communication with anyone – family, friends and me.

The last time we spoke was when I was in the hospital, having just lost the baby. After that, nothing.

He doesn’t answer the phone and doesn’t return any calls. I’ve sent cards, but they’ve gone unresponded to. When my birthday passed, there was nothing. When my daughter’s birthday passed, there was nothing.

He was my stepdad for 27 years. My biological father has always been a lackluster relationship at best and I truly considered my stepdad to be my true father.

I wanted to call him “Dad”. But when I was 7 years old I was riding in a car with my biological father and his friends and we passed the department store my stepdad managed and I excitedly chattered that “my Dad works there!” to which one of the hoodlum friends remarked “If my kid said that about another man I would beat that guys ass”. I was horrified. I genuinely feared my stepdad could be harmed and made it a point to never slip again.

People come and go rather easily in my life and this is just another example. It’s another piece of me that’s missing now.

My daughter never asks, but seems to wonder where her grandpa disappeared to. I hate that she’s forming the same conclusions I was left with…that family doesn’t necessarily stick together and that blood is not thicker than water.

Both of my biological parents are in the stage of remarriage. With the ink hardly dry on the divorce papers, my mother is talking about marrying her new boyfriend – a man I hardly know and my father’s marrying his girlfriend later this year. This will be a 3rd marriage for both of them. My father’s 2nd wife was dumped when she was diagnosed with a crippling and terminal illness.

In my family, it’s not just family that doesn’t last…marriages are fairly fickle as well. Is it any wonder that I so often worry about my own marriage? I know how much I love my husband, but last year’s incident cost me every ounce of faith I had in us. I don’t doubt our love, but I do doubt our future together.

Because in my world, people come and go as if there were a swinging door to the heart and love is just something people say for a little while before they find something better.

Posted by Red :: 7:30 AM :: |
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