Heat

Within an earlier post, I told you I had received suggestions from some of my dearest, held to my heart friends, on how to react to this public notification of my soon to be, ex husband's announcement of his new career path. One said, with her finger pointing at me, (smile here), "don't you do a thing." Another said, "wait and see what happens." My son said, "Mom, you have always told me to take the high road. Take the high road and call him, or invite him for coffee or something, and be genuine and wish him well." He than shared with me, after some relationships had gone south and ended badly for him, a year later, he called the gals and left them a message (as they did not pick up their phones), with genuine well wishes and an apology for things ending badly. He stated, "It made me feel better", though that was not his first intent. He reminded me, this may not be the time, but someday, I should do it for myself, not the soon to be, ex husband. He lovingly chuckled and said, "You raised me that way mom, it's your own fault." I detected so much honor in his advice and regard for my emotional, well being.
Six days after the soon to be, ex husband's grandiose announcement of his statewide travels, there were multiple postings on his internet sites, of course, all relinked to him by himself, (sigh here). I was reading many comments by people with congratulations and excitement of him following his dreams. He thanked them all for their support and thanked many for their friendship. The heat of emotion burned my gut and I picked up the phone.
He answered and I said, "I was on my break at work, and I was reading all the comments from people on you following your dreams. Really, seriously, I genuinely wish you good luck with that. You will do well."
He said, "Thank you. It's a bit scary".
I said, "I saw all the people wishing you well and you thanking them for their support. You know what kinda sucks?"
He asked, "What?" with hesitation.
"I was always there for you."
He said, "You were always there for me."
I said, "It sucks because all these other people are getting credit for being there for you, and I was there for you during your schooling, your bankruptcy, new job, and I will probably never get credit ever again. But that's OK, really, I do wish you well....Were you ever going to call me?"
He asked, "About what?"
"This...your trip?"
He answered ever so carefully, "Not right away."
I asked with emotional heat choking my throat,"Were you ever going to call me about anything again? Or were you going to walk away after our divorce hearing and that be it?"
"Oh I don't know, I would call you eventually, down the road." He said.
I said, with the heat rising to my eyes,"I guess this is where I am, as a priority, which is pretty much where I always was as a priority...not much of one."
I think he clicked his teeth.
"I guess I'll see you next week. Bye". I ended the phone call. Then I let the heat turn to dampness in my eyes. I let the dampness turn to wetness and streak my cheeks. I am sure this is not quite the sincere regards my son encouraged, at least not as a whole, but there was sincerity in my wishes for his success.
I then posted on one of the internet social sites, "Good luck with your endeavors. I know you will do well. I have always said that. Some of your friends are teasing you and commenting...remember us when. Well I knew you WAY BACK when. Thanks for the eight years and if you ever decide to run for office, and change to democrat, I MIGHT just vote for you. LOL. Remember the little people."
That evening, I attended my Toastmaster's meeting. Much to my delight, one man knows my soon to be, ex husband. He asked if the divorce was final, a question based on a previous conversation. I said, "Next Wednesday." He picked up his glass of water and requested a toast with my glass, and we did. Then he said, "I've been around him at a couple of different events and he's kind of full of himself. He doesn't think his shit stinks and I just don't like that." I patted his arm and said, "Now now, I am trying to have some class and not dis on him." He simply said, "Good for you." I took such pleasure in that comment of his.
I also remembered what my counselor said to me at an earlier session, "Claire, you are grounded and he's on wheels." She and I had a hearty laugh of that since the man who broke my heart will be traveling the country in a fifth wheel to follow his dreams.