The gift

Ok Universe. I am listening. You have my full, undivided attention. It may have taken a while, but you have it now.

I believe it was no mere coincidence that when I was done writing my last post, I got a knock on my door.

I have an old school approach to this blogging thing. I like to write, so I commit my thoughts to paper before I pound it out on the keyboard. So not long after I wrote about a woman's worth, I went to answer the door.

It was my friendly neighborhood mailman with a certified letter for yours truly. The kind of certified mail that requires not one but two signatures on two different pieces of paper. I have been served. My divorce papers have come.

Being we still live in the same house, you would have thought he could have mentioned something about filing. Maybe in passing? Nope, nothing. For financial reasons we have been staying in the same house, not for too much longer though, and talked about doing the actual paperwork for the divorce when we were a little more financially stable after the move. This arrangement makes for some tense moments but we still have three children we are raising together.

Reading over my freedom, I mean divorce papers, I come to the signature part. I see his familiar chicken scratch and then I see where he dated it. The 22nd of September. The day after my birthday.

After all this is said and done and an agreement has been reached with the children, I will be thanking him for my birthday gift. It was exactly what I wanted.

What follows is something that was inspired by the quote in my previous post. Short and sweet, to the point. Kind of like the divorce papers.


Unhappy alone or unhappy with someone
doesn't really apply to me anymore
I've been handed my walking papers
watch me dance, not walk out the door