wellthatsjustgreat:

wellthatsjustgreat:

Rewind Sunday:

Was talking about this post today with a friend. Some of Ducky’s best work. :-)

wellthatsjustgreat:

Ducky: You OK, Dad?

Me: Yeah. Sorry about last night.

Ducky: You were pretty upset. Did something happen? Did you lose a toy?

Me: Ha. No. Just feeling lonely.

Ducky: I understand. That’s how I feel when you go to work. But you always come back so I can deal.

Me: Yeah. It’s a different kind of lonely, Duck. You wouldn’t understand.

Ducky: …

Me: …

Ducky: Can I tell you a story, Dad?

Me: …Ok.

Ducky: You know you weren’t my first Daddy, right?

Me: Yeah.

Ducky: I loved my first Daddy very much. He took care of me when I was very young. He taught me how to sit, and shake hands, and walk on a leash. He pet me. He made me feel very special.

Me: Yeah.

Ducky: And then one day he left. And left me behind.

Me: At that apartment complex.

Ducky. Yup. And I looked for him for a long time. And when I couldn’t find him I waited for him to come back. And when he didn’t come back, I just sat in those fields spent my days wondering what I did to drive him away. And if I was going to be alone forever.

Me: Sorry, Duck. That must have been awful.

Ducky: But then Judy showed up.

Me: From the shelter.

Ducky: Yup. And she cleaned me up, and took care of me, gave me a place to live, and was a really good friend to me when I needed it. If she hadn’t found me I don’t know what would have happened.

Me: She’s a good person.

Ducky: Yeah. But not a daddy. Do you remember when you found me?

Me: Yeah. At that event at work. Your mom and I had lost Sam a few months earlier. We walked around the corner and there you were.

Ducky: Yup with those two younger, cuter puppies in the crate right next to me.

Me: Yeah. I opened up your crate and you crawled right onto my lap. Like you belonged there.

Ducky: Uh huh. That’s where I was supposed to be. And I didn’t know it until it you were right there in front of me. Until then I really thought I would never have another Daddy. Not a real one.

Me: A real one?

Ducky: Dogs can tell when they have a real daddy and when they’re just being “kept” because they’re fun or cute.

Me: Ah.

Ducky: But you were real. And I found my home that day. I still love and miss my first Daddy, but I am so glad to be here with you.

Me: Yeah.

Ducky: Being lonely and alone hurt, but it got me to a place where I found my real Daddy. So taking the long view, it was worth the pain.

Me: …

Ducky: You’re gonna’ be ok, Daddy.

Me: Thanks, Duck. Love you.

Ducky: Love you too, Daddy.

Ag

There are moments in one’s life where something happens, or a choice is made, and that person’s life sets off in a direction that it otherwise would not. And for me, I have begun to realize that it is less the choices or events that have impacted my life and more the people who have come into my life as a result of those choices and events.

I was accepted into Penn State but for primarily financial reasons, chose to attend a local state school, Millersville University. While that probably impacted my life in many ways, none were more important than the fact that I wouldn’t have met Belle if I went to Penn State. Would I have met someone else? Probably. Would I have divorced them? I hope not. But if not, would my path have changed and would I have never met Gizmo? Or met her at a different time and therefore never fallen in love?

I am nearing another one of those moments. I am about to head in yet another new career direction with my employer. And this time more than ever before I am keenly aware that this next change, and the people in my life as a result of it, will have an enormous impact on where I am professionally, personally, and spiritually five or ten years from now.

Is there an elegant French phrase for, “Can’t my life just settle down because I’m getting too old for this shit?”

Ag

Hey, folks. I figured I was about due to update my journey through divorce. As always, your mileage may vary. Don’t follow the jump if you’re looking for the “ha, ha.”

Read More

Rewind Sunday: From March 2011

New Ducky post today at Well That’s Just Ducky!

wellthatsjustgreat:

Ducky: Daddy?

Me: Yeah, Duck?

Ducky: You, OK?

Me: Meh. A little down. No big deal.

Ducky: Why?

Me: Oh. I’ve just had a lot of reminders lately of mistakes I’ve made, opportunities I’ve let slip by, bad things I’ve done….

Ducky: Like pooping in the house?

Me: Not literally, no, but the human equivalent.

Ducky: Oh. And that makes you sad?

Me: Right now it does. Right now it makes me feel like I don’t deserve happiness.

Ducky: …

Me: …

Ducky: You don’t play with me enough, Daddy.

Me: …

Ducky: And sometimes you stay out too late and leave me alone a long time.

Me: Really, Duck?

Ducky: And you don’t pet me anywhere near as much as you used to. When your friends come over they pay much more attention to me than you do.

Me: Are dogs familiar with the concept of “jumping on the pile,” Ducky?  

Ducky: Oh, and I hate those baths.

Me: Do you have a point, dog?

Ducky: I love you, Daddy.

Me: …

Ducky: You’re not perfect, but you’re not supposed to be. You’re just supposed to be my Daddy. And you’re great at that.

Me: …

Ducky: And I’ve seen other people who seem to like you and love you even though you think you’re not so great all the time. The Mama still loves you. And those new people who pet me all the time seem to like you just the way you are.

Me: …

Ducky: Am I perfect, Daddy?

Me: Far from it.

Ducky: Does it make you love me less?

Me: …no. Not at all.

Ducky: And those things that you did don’t make your friends or me love you any less.

Me: No?

Ducky: Nope. And I’m a dog so I’m seven times smarter than you so you should listen to me.

Me: I don’t think that’s how it works. I think that’s just with age.

Ducky: Another foolish mistake on your part. But I forgive you and love you, Daddy.

Me: I love you, Ducky.

Ducky: But a little more petting wouldn’t hurt.

Me: Fair enough.

Ag

Ducky: I love you, Daddy. 

wellthatsjustgreat:

Rewind Sunday:

Was talking about this post today with a friend. Some of Ducky’s best work. :-)

wellthatsjustgreat:

Ducky: You OK, Dad?

Me: Yeah. Sorry about last night.

Ducky: You were pretty upset. Did something happen? Did you lose a toy?

Me: Ha. No. Just feeling lonely.

Ducky: I understand. That’s how I feel when you go to work. But you always come back so I can deal.

Me: Yeah. It’s a different kind of lonely, Duck. You wouldn’t understand.

Ducky: …

Me: …

Ducky: Can I tell you a story, Dad?

Me: …Ok.

Ducky: You know you weren’t my first Daddy, right?

Me: Yeah.

Ducky: I loved my first Daddy very much. He took care of me when I was very young. He taught me how to sit, and shake hands, and walk on a leash. He pet me. He made me feel very special.

Me: Yeah.

Ducky: And then one day he left. And left me behind.

Me: At that apartment complex.

Ducky. Yup. And I looked for him for a long time. And when I couldn’t find him I waited for him to come back. And when he didn’t come back, I just sat in those fields spent my days wondering what I did to drive him away. And if I was going to be alone forever.

Me: Sorry, Duck. That must have been awful.

Ducky: But then Judy showed up.

Me: From the shelter.

Ducky: Yup. And she cleaned me up, and took care of me, gave me a place to live, and was a really good friend to me when I needed it. If she hadn’t found me I don’t know what would have happened.

Me: She’s a good person.

Ducky: Yeah. But not a daddy. Do you remember when you found me?

Me: Yeah. At that event at work. Your mom and I had lost Sam a few months earlier. We walked around the corner and there you were.

Ducky: Yup with those two younger, cuter puppies in the crate right next to me.

Me: Yeah. I opened up your crate and you crawled right onto my lap. Like you belonged there.

Ducky: Uh huh. That’s where I was supposed to be. And I didn’t know it until it you were right there in front of me. Until then I really thought I would never have another Daddy. Not a real one.

Me: A real one?

Ducky: Dogs can tell when they have a real daddy and when they’re just being “kept” because they’re fun or cute.

Me: Ah.

Ducky: But you were real. And I found my home that day. I still love and miss my first Daddy, but I am so glad to be here with you.

Me: Yeah.

Ducky: Being lonely and alone hurt, but it got me to a place where I found my real Daddy. So taking the long view, it was worth the pain.

Me: …

Ducky: You’re gonna’ be ok, Daddy.

Me: Thanks, Duck. Love you.

Ducky: Love you too, Daddy.

Ag

Well That’s Just Great was born on August 3, 2009. 10,000 posts later, here we are. I’ve been thinking about trying to do one of those milestone posts. I wanted to create one of those deep, funny, touching essays that at my best I do pretty well. I tried to create something that wove together the most significant themes of the last two and a half years: the end of my marriage and my slow recovery, the good and bad of my struggles with my mental health, and of course Ducky. Oh, and one of two “Your Mom” references.

I tried. I really did. But it just didn’t come. I tried to plumb the depths of my journey through divorce. I tried to mine my experiences with depression. I even asked Ducky for a little help.

Nothing.

And while I know posts on all of those things will come again one day, I think it’s telling that they didn’t flow out of me easily. I was in pain two and a half years ago. And that pain grew to be unbearable. Most of my friends in the tumblr community realized that even my Ducky posts were born from a need to talk about everything I was dealing with at a time when I felt like I had no one else who cared. So for two and a half years I have been able to sit down at this computer at any time I chose and the pain would flow into words with little to no effort. 

But not tonight.

Because I’m better.

Not unbroken. Not perfectly healthy. Hell, truth be told I’m actually dealing with a little flare up of my good old “feelings of dread.” Most people looking at me right now wouldn’t say I look “better” at all. I am in my underwear though so hopefully there aren’t too many people looking at me right now. Your mom isn’t even here anymore. She took the money off the dresser and went home.

Nope just better than I was. See, those posts used to flow so easily because they were about who I was. They were reflections of my identity. I was defined by that divorce, that disease, and those introspective journeys through both (with Ducky and without). Now they’re just part of who I am, not the whole of who I am.

Like most of us, I have a long way to go before I become the person I hope I can be. But I’m a lot closer than I was 10,000 posts ago. And I thank everyone; from kayfabe, my first follower; to David Karp and the team at tumblr who provide us with this platform; to every single person who ever spent a few moments reading something I wrote. Thank all of you for helping me to get better. 

Post #1: August 3, 2009-Faking a smile

Post 10,000: January 23, 2012-A real smile. 

I do like bookends.

Ag

GPOYW

A year ago was a lifetime ago.

Ag

This was in my ask:

“Did you go through counseling before your divorce? My parents are going through it right now but their issues seem so unresolvable I’m afraid they’ll end up splitting. Any advice for a kid (well I’m pretty much out of my teens now…) who’s stuck in the middle?”

One of the most important things that I was told when my marriage first began to show signs of serious damage was that if we decided to get a divorce, we would both be asked by a judge, “Do you believe that nothing can be done to repair the marriage?”

That knowledge kept us from ever saying, “Ugh! Let’s just get this over with so we don’t keep feeling this pain.” We tried counseling, I got psychological help (later than I should have), we read books, completed workbooks, did exercises, talked, went long times without talking, separated…by the time we made our decision, difficult as it was, neither of us doubted that we had tried. And we knew (with as much certainty as anyone can expect to have) that we needed to divorce to move forward with our lives.

Every divorce is different. Our divorce was sad, not angry. So others may take other paths that are right for them. But I do believe being able to answer, “Yes,” to the question, “Do you believe that nothing can be done to repair the marriage?” is critical. Or at least having both parties agree that they are not willing to do what would be needed to repair the damage.

As far as advice for you, first of all know that you can do nothing to make it right for them to stay together, just like you are doing nothing that is driving them apart. One of the hardest things to understand about life is that a lot of times we have no control over events that have great impact on us. I believe the most important thing you can do in this situation is to be there for your parents. Love them. Tell them you love them. I know this is painful for you, but they know that too. And if they are like most parents, hurting you is the worst thing they can imagine. So if they are even considering a divorce, the current status of their marriage must be causing them terrible pain.

But you will all survive. Deciding to get a divorce was agony. Getting divorced was very bad. But being divorced is okay. And getting better for both of us. Belle and I were meant to be together. We just weren’t meant to be together forever. I hope your parents stay together. But if they don’t, there are better times ahead for all of you.

Trust me. I’m very smart and never wrong. :-)

Ag