TO HUNTSVILLE AND BACK

‘If you have to spend time with your ex-wife…find someone else to marry!’.

‘We’ve been divorced for 10 years’, he calmly stated as he listened to his wife accusing him of cheating and threatening divorce. Again. Though we were merely sitting in a car and barely talking to each other.

This was nothing new – the accusations – and he remained calm, though I know it continues to cause him much anxiety. The unwarranted jealousy. The continued wrongful accusations. The absolute insanity of it all. Sadly, I could relate to all of this having gone through very similar experiences myself.

It was a long drive to Huntsville and back. Eight hours and fifteen minutes to be exact, starting after we left Sam’s Club. It was a drive filled with unnecessary anxiety and drama as I was not supposed to be there. Alone with him. To see my daughter on her way back to university after having come back to Austin for the weekend. My first time seeing her this entire 3-day weekend.

Our older daughter was sitting behind us, listening to all of the ranting and raving on the speaker phone. Letting us know she is glad to no longer live in that household. The question of the upcoming Family Weekend was brought up. ‘If you can’t get along, then don’t come’, my daughter exclaimed. ‘Don’t embarrass me’, she continued. And she was right. The only way I can help with that was to remove myself from the equation. Which meant that my son and I would have to make the drive another time on our own and miss the family weekend.

The venom that continued to be thrown my way was pure hatred. My own past relationship was brought up, as was my lack of finances. ‘Why do we have to support your grown ass ex-wife?!’, I heard at one point. And I wondered why she thought she was supporting me. Do you pay my rent? Do you pay any of my bills? Do you pay for anything that I buy on a regular basis? No, I assured myself. There was no reason to believe any of her rantings.

‘I did nothing wrong’, I explained to my children’s father. And I could feel my blood pressure rising at the six minutes of hatred coming from the car’s phone.

‘mama dont let that get to u she’s rly insecure and nothing she says is true’, my son texted back to me as I updated him on the situation, letting him know that we would not be going to the family weekend in two weeks.

My son felt bad that he did not go. A friend he hasn’t seen in over a year was coming to town and he really wanted to spend time with her. So, he stayed home. Had he or his other sister come along, seemingly to ‘babysit’ us parents, the drama would have been a bit less. But neither of the two wanted to sit in the car for so long. On that long drive.

We arrived at our daughter’s dorm room having unloaded the contents of their car. The snacks and drinks she chose as we stopped at Sam’s Club on the way there, the grey sheets and pink duvet cover, the lighted desk mirror that was ordered for her, the large rug for her concrete floor, and all of the other items she brought back from her trip back to Austin this past weekend.

Our daughter quickly unpacked all of the boxes and sorted the snacks into the purple storage bins. The we all set about to place the large rug under most of her furniture. The result was a beautiful and inviting area where she could continue the next chapter in her life.

I wished I could have spent more time with my daughter, but that was not possible. But at least I was able to see her dorm room and know that she is living in a better place than before.

‘I can’t control what she says, but I can take myself away from this unnecessary drama’, I explained to him as we made our way back to Austin. And I continued to let him know that I need to distance myself from all of the drama that is causing me this anxiety. I vowed to no longer be subjected to this hatred. It has taken its toll on many aspects of my life and now is the time to take back control and move on with my life. With my son. In peace.