If you have previously visited my blog, you know I wrote with great passion about the original 9/11 in A Change of Seasons.
This year, I feel like a personally devastating 9/11 is happening to me. You see, on Labor Day I met with my paralegal; she was notarizing my signature to end my marriage of 37 years! I am a romantic at heart, and even though she could file the final divorce papers that day, I asked her to wait until 9/11 so I could say that I was legally married to beautiful Mik for 37 years —Mik: nickname for my ex-wife Sally, that I gave her after she corrected me; her maiden last name McFerren is pronounced MikFerren and not MacFerren— Even though we were legally married at the Santa Ana courthouse on 8/12/1983, very few people knew about it, we consider our actual wedding day to be 9/10/1983, when we were married in the suburbs of Akron, Ohio, at a little church, where Mik’s parents, family and friends worshipped. We actually did not celebrate with our California friends until we returned from Ohio —We hosted a great party cruising on the Kon Tiki in beautiful Newport Beach harbor—
The last two and a half years have been awful, but we had 35 years of wonderful marriage. So why are we divorcing? It seems I was getting too mean! Mik would disregard my skiing misfortune handicap and make me late for all my personal and business appointments; a trait that does not define me! As a matter of fact, people know that if I make an appointment with them and they’re five minutes late and I don’t hear from them, I simply leave. I resolved that issue by telling Mik that my appointments were ½ hour earlier. But I am the male of the species and I have to take responsibility in the matter: We mismanaged a lot of money, and Mik decided that the best solution for my immediate future, was to retire me to a nursing home; Of course, after the wonderful life that I had been leading, I didn’t like this proposition at all. That and some financial decisions which I didn’t agree with, turned me mean again and she filed for a legal separation after avoiding marriage counseling that I had proposed. Because of my condition, I might end up in a nursing home after all, but at the age of 55, I wasn’t ready for it. I guess we have irreconcilable differences.
But not all should be considered doom and gloom; We have two (adult) children: A handsome young man and a beautiful girl (I know she is now a young lady, but she will always be my beautiful girl) . And I was able to provide a great life for them and Mik. They grew up in heavenly SoCal and I have always been able to provide great homes for them. Our children are not saddled with student loans and they attended well-known universities, including studies abroad. I was lucky to be able to provide financial resources, most of the time, and Mik worked as she pleased or not at all whenever possible. We were also lucky to have exotic vacations in my native Venezuela, Spain and Hawaii as well as the beautiful US southwest. All my material accomplishments were always accompanied with immeasurable love.
No matter what the future holds, I will keep telling my doctors and therapists, our families and friends and most people I meet that I wouldn’t be alive without the love and attention that Mik provided me during my recuperation from my skiing misfortune. I have always been a pretty active guy challenging myself in marathonic sports events and it could not have been easy to see your spouse almost die and with many tubes coming out of his body while in the ICU and reduced to a severely phisically handicapped person thereafter.
So what will I do know? Will I reinvent myself? 2020 has taught us not to make detailed plans because they can be unexpectedly derailed. One thing that I know for certain is that where two magnificent towers stood side by side, now a gleaming skyscraper has been proudly built. Alas, it stands by itself!