Today I had one of those moments where I realized my life was just a little off of center. I have had several of these in the past, but today's moment was a big one. I was driving my 8 year old son to school this morning and we were discussing our plans for this evening. During the conversation, we both remembered that his Dad's boyfriend had surgery yesterday. I had already called to check on him and knew it went well, but he will be in the hospital at least one more day. After a few minutes of conversation, we decided that we will stop for flowers and go visit him in the hospital. We both asked the 13 year old if he wanted to attend, but he reminded us both that he has football training tonight.
I don't remember lots of my childhood memories, but I am pretty sure that I never once thought I would have an evening that involved visiting my ex-husband's boyfriend in the hospital. Even with that said, I am good with it. The whole family feels better when we are all included.
I guess I should explain how I got here. I am 38 and live just outside of Atlanta, GA. I am married and have an 8 and 13 year old. We also have an 11 year old that lives with his Mom in AL. My ex-husband and his boyfriend live about an hour away. We are definitely a modern family in many ways. If you throw in the fact that I work full-time and my husband stays home with the boys, we definitely scale the bar of nontraditional family status.
I grew up in a small town in North Louisiana. During college I met a guy that was different from anyone else I had ever dated. Todd did not hunt or fish in his spare time. He enjoyed music and was handy around the house. For the most part, we liked the same things. We hit it off instantly and spent every day together for the 8 months we dated. Then in August of 1991, we stood in front of 150 of our friends and were married.
I have heard people all talk about where they were when certain things happened. When Kennedy was shot, when man landed on the moon, and 911. While I clearly remember 911, I have another day that sticks in my memory even more. It was in October of 2003. I was standing in the driveway outside of our North Louisiana home and was speaking with my husband. We had several conversations over the past couple of days that left me confused, and asking questions. Looking back, I am still not sure why I finally asked the question that changed my entire life. I looked at Todd and almost casually asked him if he was involved with another man. It was as if time stood still while he finally voiced to me what he desperately needed to say. Yes, he had been involved with some other men during our marriage.
Over the next few months we talked about almost nothing else. I was desperate to manage this situation. After all, I was happy. My life was exactly where I wanted it, and divorce was just not an option. We talked, we negotiated, and cried. Finally, in May of 2004, we told our families that we were divorcing. I still clearly remember every word that my mother said to me. She was completely stunned and said, "but we don't get divorced." You know she was right, and I had no clue what I was doing. Nobody else in my family was divorced and none of my friends either. Thinking back, I think that helped me immensely. I had no clue what was appropriate divorce etiquette.
I still loved Todd, I just could not stop thinking about it. I had tried and tried, but the knowing changed everything. He had confessed the secrets of his life. Todd trusted me and for the first time in his adult life, he had someone that he could speak to. The problem was that even as much as I loved him, I could not keep going.
We never got angry and we never hated each other the way many divorced people do. We just grieved together. Nobody else in the world understood what we were going through. Todd was not coming out of the closet and we could not talk to others about it. In an odd way, the secret also brought us closer. We were both grieving the loss of what should have been. I had married my best friend when I was young, and we wanted the same things out of life. I just did not have anger in me, only a sense of loss and sadness.
So how did we get from grief to acceptance? I genuinely think it was simply that we did not know any other way. Neither of us wanted bad things for the other, and we both wanted the best for our boys. We sat down and negotiated our property settlement on a yellow legal pad and agreed to a child support figure. He has paid every month without issue, and we share unusual expenses like braces for our oldest son.
During the divorce he asked me not to talk about his homosexuality. He was not ready to come out of the closet and desperately wanted to make sure that his mother never found out. He was raised in a Southern Baptist family and homosexuality was a sin. I kept it quiet for the most part, but I did tell my immediate family. When I finally got up the courage to tell my sister about the divorce, she immediately asked me if he was involved with another man. I was shocked, but later found out that my entire family had always suspected. I guess a lot of people suspected, except me.
So how did I miss it? The truth is that he is not the flamboyant type of gay man. He is more Neil Patrick Harris than Elton John. In hindsight, I can remember some things that should have triggered the thought, but I simply missed it. I was too busy living my life and paying attention to the kids and my career.
We only told our kids last year. Todd decided to tell our oldest son alone. I really was not ready, and probably never would have been. I wanted the boys to have the same childhood that I had. I can honestly say that I was wrong. They needed their childhood, and not mine. They also deserved honesty. The oldest child struggled for a few months. It was hard for him to think of his Dad in that way. He also finally had to give up on the idea that we would ever get back to being a nuclear family. I did not know until much later that he had held on to the hope that we would reconcile for years. His Dad also told him that his boyfriend was moving in with him. This was a huge change all at once.
I had dreaded this conversation for years. I had secretly hoped that it would be a relief for me, but it was not. I was simply afraid that they would not be OK. The struggle for the 12 year old, gave us a pause at telling the youngest. He was only 7 at the time, and we were all afraid that he would talk about it an inappropriate times. I was also afraid of the unknown.
With a huge sigh of relief, I can tell you that they are better than OK. They are good. We have raised caring boys that are active in sports and do all of the traditional types of things. Even to the point, that I am spending my evening visiting their Dad's boyfriend in the hospital. Is it the right thing to do? Who knows, but it works for our family. My husband likes my ex-husband very much. We all respect each other and appreciate all of our need to take care of the kids. I have had a friend ask how do we all do it so well. I am not sure of the answer, but I think it is simply that we care about one another. All of us want the best for each other, and are willing to do what it takes. We have our funny moments (the guy at the Apple Store thought my husband and ex-husband were a couple when we were buying the oldest child a laptop) and our scary moments (yes we are raising a teenager that is currently a hormone with feet), but we all work together.
I will let you know how the hospital visit goes. My youngest child is wanting to play his recorder for Mr Jason. An 8 year old with a new recorder just has a good time written all over it.
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