Uproot, transport, dig in...

Hi friends,

Sorry my last series was interrupted before I got to Judaism (I WILL go back and finish that....I think it's far too interesting to ignore).  I've had some major life changes going on that have been very difficult to deal with, although they were a long time coming.  I knew there was a relocation coming in our future, but then the "our" future aspect was altered slightly.

Logan (my husband) is currently in Kansas, and I am in Virginia, packing and preparing to move to South Carolina (or NC, the Charlotte area).  This isn't the first time it's crossed my mind- I've lived here in Hampton Roads for eight years, most of it as a Navy wife, through multiple deployments, with zero support system.  Sure, I had friends who may watch the kids in an emergency if they had to, but no one, long-term, that I knew I could call on, on a regular basis, for support.  For eight years I've strained and struggled, even taken on the care of my husband's mother, who is a recovering addict and active alcoholic. All of this during three deployments (a total of 30 months apart) and then a period of separation, during all of which I was the primary caretaker of our children.  On top of that, my first husband passed away tragically in a car accident, and his family took me to court repeatedly to try and gain custody of my oldest son.  Don't get me wrong, Logan wasn't a dead-beat.  He would help out when he could, but his emotional support was noticeably absent.  When my first husband died, Logan was mad that I was grieving, so I grieved in private and put on a happy voice when he called (he was on deployment).  I grieved in our tiny bathroom in our home in Chesapeake, and on the back porch, chain-smoking cigarettes long after the kids were asleep, staring into the dark night and trying to figure out how to get past such a big hurt.

Meanwhile, the marriage I was in was crumbling.  Logan was distant, had gone through periods of depression, anger, even violence, and I had tried to support him as best I could.  The period of separation began after I discovered what was, to me, an unforgivable infidelity.  I moved myself and the kids out and struggled to see past tomorrow.  'One foot in front of the other,' I would tell myself, day after day, while my husband was out partying with his friends and going to keggers as if nothing ever happened.  I got a job at a coffeehouse that required me to get up at 5 a.m. to be there to bake the pastries, brew the first coffee, etc. and while I loved it dearly and had an amazing, understanding, compassionate boss, it was hard on me to drag the kids out of bed before 5 a.m., shuffle them to the neighbor's house, who would take them all to school/daycare until I got out of work.  I yearned for support, so when Logan wanted to be a part of our lives again, I almost fell, exhausted, back in his arms.

We moved back in together and I realized almost immediately that whatever it was that had drawn us together five years ago was no longer there.  I struggled to understand his complacency when dealing with his mother, who was too drunk or off her meds or had taken too many meds to be able to help us with the kids. I struggled to understand his mentality of wanting to live together as a family again, yet then lay on the couch and watch TV, disagree about raising the children, disagree about dealing with his mother, and to have zero intimacy or personal relationship.  I told him quite a few times that he wasn't "bound" to be with me; he was free to go! He would deny that he wanted to go, swore he would "work on it", but nothing would change...not one iota.  I don't doubt that he cares, I just don't think with his background/childhood/family environment growing up that he even knows how to properly care for a wife and children, and I can't hold that against him. I do hold it against him that he's not made the effort to go to counseling, therapy, whatever and figure that out.  I see it as a lack of commitment to our family and I do feel that I've waited long enough.  It's become apparent either I change my expectations and learn to live in this warped reality or I go.

And so I go....I will painfully sever the wonderful ties I've made to friends and community here, and I'm doing what I never thought I would do.....I'm whispering back home, to my home state, of pucker-tight conservative politics and gossip queens.  I'm coming home a decade later, with children in town and no man in sight; I'm aware of what will happen, and Lord knows how many times I'll hear well-meaning friends and old women say they're "praying for me".  I know this will mean many, many more days of waking at 5 am, dragging the kids to before-school care so I can get to work on time.  I know this will mean many, many more days of falling into bed exhausted after midnight after making dinner, doing laundry, and cleaning house.   But I'm OK with that, because I also know that my friends and family are only a phone call, and just a few minutes, away.  That finally, after years of juggling, I'll be able to toss of a few of those balls to someone else and let them help out. The silence is over.  The struggle is over, and I'm glad to be coming home.

Again, I don't hate Logan...I don't even dislike him.  I just want for him to find his own happiness.  I want him to find the woman that works in his world, and I'm not her. It's not fair to him to feel  'locked-in' to a loveless marriage, and it's not fair to me.  I wish him all the best and hope that he can find balance between his biological family and the inherent problems that exist there, and his future life...and find a way to understand that their past mistakes don't dictate the type of life he must lead (he doesn't have to continually support a mother who makes no effort to change for him or her grandchildren).  I hope he finds peace and release from that kind of bondage.

I seriously feel so grateful for my friends here in Hampton Roads who have made my life so interesting, so fun, and have opened so many doors to me and have made me dig within myself and find energy to keep going, through all and against all odds, and make some slight bit of change for our world.  I feel as if I've come into my own here by the sea and that I will return home wiser, calmer, and more grounded.

The title of this blog isn't only metaphorical...it's literal. I'm digging up my garden, plant by plant, and carefully attempting to pot them and transport them to South Carolina.  I feel like it is a metaphor, though, for myself and my children uprooting, leaving our friends, our neighborhood, our city, and hoping desperately our new home will accept our roots and that our leaves won't wither....we're going to need lots of Miracle-Gro, so if you're one of our friends waiting for us in SC, please know we're going to need lots of love and care so our roots take! See you on the flip side!
~m