Please, Mr. Postman….

Well, I slacked this weekend on the posts, so there’ll be a few today and tomorrow.  I had a blast at the Air Show on Saturday and had a nice quiet Mother’s Day, but more about that later. 

Right now, it’s all about the mail.

Yes, the USPS still runs Monday through Saturday, despite the rumors.  They deliver through rain and sleet and all that jazz.  But they don’t deliver to my house.  So, I have a post office box.

I actually acquired the box last August so that I could get mail from my lawyer without the asshole knowing that I had a lawyer.  I knew that he didn’t have one yet and I didn’t want him knowing that I had one. 

Besides, I couldn’t be sure that he wouldn’t open my mail and he didn’t need to know what I was saying to my lawyer.

Hence, the PO Box.

But it’s darn hard to get over and check it.   They close at 4:15 M-F and at 11:30 am on Saturdays.  Now, I don’t get off work till 5 and I surely am not up and ready to get to the post office by 1130 on Saturdays.  In fact, on a good Saturday, I’m not awake at 1130!  So, I’ve made it a habit to go to the post office after I drop my oldest at school.

Last week, that didn’t happen any day but Monday.  So, today when I went, I had a lot of mail.  I had the requisite Geico junk mail (I’m happy with my car insurance, thank you), and 4 credit card offers (which is shocking considering my credit history…not good!).

Three pieces of mail caught my eye….two good and one that caused nervousness in my belly.

The two good ones were two checks from the probate court – YEA!

The one that caused the butterflies was a letter from my lawyer. 

We have been scheduled for a Matrimonial Early Settlement Panel.  This panel is staffed by two matrimonial attorneys and they will hear the suggestions from my lawyer, and his, and we are both required to attend.  I’m sure that he’ll attend by phone, but still.

If we agree to the suggestions, then we will be divorced in July.

If we don’t agree, we go to trial.

I’ll admit it.  I’m nervous.

Really nervous.

If my bottom lip makes it to July without a hole in it from me chewing on it, I’ll be surprised.

Who needs a piercing when you can just have a court date scheduled?

It’s not that I don’t want to be divorced from him or that I want to get back together.  I understand that we are in limbo here, neither married nor divorced. 

Just separated.

And I love my new life. I love not being with him in anything but a legal sense.  I love not talking to him.

But, on the other hand, I feel nervous.  Once I sever ties with him legally, that’s it.  My life as I knew it is forever gone.  I will no longer be a military spouse (which I’m not really, right now, but you get the idea), something that I have been for the last 16 years.

Yes, the big upheaval has happened already – I’ve moved out, moved on, and so has he.

But this will be so….final.

Part of this is fear for the unknown future.  Right now, I’m tethered to the military and to him, financially.  I’m worried about money issues and losing my privileges on base and the medical care that his being active duty affords me.

I’m worried that I won’t be able to make it work without that safety net.  Because that’s how I’ve always seen the military – as a safety net. 

Alright, I guess my fear, truly, is being a civilian.

Yes, all of my civilian readers, have a good laugh.  But just as you would be lost in the world of the military, I feel lost in the world of the civilian.

I tried it.  I didn’t like it.

I grew up in the military, I served in the military, I married the military.

Civilians don’t talk in acronyms, they don’t have any frame of reference for the things that I’ve seen and done.  And it baffles me how a person could grow up in one house, one town, one state and never leave to live anywhere else.

Yes, civilian life confuses me.

Maybe that’s not my true fear, but it’s surely a factor.  I’m not just jumping into the world single, but as a civilian.

Fear is not rational.  It’s not logical.  That’s why Spock doesn’t feel fear.

But I’m not Spock.  And, honestly, thank goodness cause I don’t think I’d look very hot in pointy ears.

Yes, I’m scared.  Yes, I’m worried.  Yes, I’m unsure.

Please, Mr. Postman, can you take that letter back?  Cause I’m not sure I want it.

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8 thoughts on “Please, Mr. Postman….

  1. Laugh? Not at all. It’s totally natural to feel like that. You’ll be grand though, whatever happens and wherever life leads, you’ll deal with it and you will, definitely, be alright. 🙂

  2. Being spooked is natural. It means that you’re facing the edge of you know not what, which is really the path to a more fulfilling and enlightened life. Doesn’t make it easier, but you can do it.

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