Therapist: Session #3

This past Tuesday I had my third session with the therapist. She said the inevitable, "You married your father." Ah, fuck. 

Please, let me preface, my Dad is awesome. He was (and still is) a great father. In fact, I don't think I could have asked for a better dad. Seriously, he was kind and loving and present. He would lie on the floor with me and play dolls. I never felt neglected or disappointed by my dad. He truly was a great father. To this day we talk at least three times a week and at the conclusion of every conversation he says, "I am never more than a phone call away." 

He was also a shitty husband. He was quiet and fairly reserved. A stoic man of few words. Definitely not one for deep, meaningful, open communication, or at least that is the perception that I understood of their relationship. Dad was quiet, mom yelled a lot. Dad would get defensive, mom would continue to berate and nag. Cycle after cycle. I remember throwing a pair of scissors down the hallway with a note attached. It said something along the lines of "please stop arguing and just get a divorce." Fuck. 

I guess I can't really say that I had a great example of marriage. I would also venture to guess that my own marriage was pretty similar. When you take this line of reasoning one generation farther...I am currently, as we speak, screwing up my own children and their earliest impressions on marriage and relationships. Double fuck.

I can rest at night knowing that my children do have an wonderful father, whom they most certainly love wholly and unconditionally. He works his ass off to provide, at times to the detriment of our family life, but he takes his responsibility seriously. He is old fashioned and sees the world as very black and white. He is responsible for provisions and he will provide. I am responsible for the children and a home life that allows him the freedom to provide.

Both men married young, both drank too much, both lack communication skills and both fiercely love their kids. Two little peas in a little pod. So, maybe I did marry my father.

My parents have been an excellent example of a amicable ex-spousal situation. My brother and I always come first on their list of priorities. We can all have dinner together or spend a holiday together without killing each other...mostly. My dad maintains that Mom filing for divorce was the best thing that ever happened to him. He stopped drinking, focused on his passions and grew a fulfilling career. 

I hope our divorce can be the same fresh start that my parents found theirs to be. I hope this can begin a new journey towards self discovery. Jeff and I already feel like we are happier. We get along better, we are kinder and more considerate and we can begin to enjoy each other's company again. Somehow it feels like we took the pressure off our relationship and are left with the good parts. This is a strange journey. Jerry Garcia was right,"what a long strange trip it's been." Yep.

Xoxo