Hello Thursday! Meet my blog group, comprised of a fantastic group of ladies who will dazzle you with insight on various topics. After reading my post, check out their blogs as well. Just click on:
Froggie (Tracey): One frog’s distinct voice on the world around her.
Merry Land Girl (Melissa): Tales of a suburban mom who likes to talk about pop culture, books, Judaism, family, friendship and anything else that comes to mind.
Darwin Shrugged (Denise): Civilized Observations in an Uncivilized World
For this week, Denise wanted to know: Do you believe everything happens for a reason?
I’m going to tell you a bizarre story. It’s a bit unconventional, yet it is what it is. It’s the reason.
When my family travels, we often visit our relatives and friends. My first husband ( a friend with a great sense of humor refers to him as #1) is on that list. Why? I know, it’s strange, isn’t it? What would make me subject myself to seeing someone who I should have written off as soon as we both signed the divorce decree. I know that’s what I’m “supposed” to do, but I’m just not built that way. I don’t scamper and run and hide from the past and it’s wounds. I also don’t harbor any ill feelings towards my ex, because I have the maturity and wisdom now to recognize just how young and dumb we both were for getting in way over ours heads all those years ago. So, seeing him doesn’t freak me out or make me break out in hives (although I did when we were getting married, isn’t that strange). No, seeing him is knowing that the universe has put us where we were meant to be. It helps that he has a kick-ass wife who I’m quite fond of, three great kids who get along with my kids, and that he’s friends with my husband (we’ve all known each other for years). When we get together, it just works out.
The last trip was a bit of a cluster, however. My husband and I had managed to get a sitter (thank you, mom-in-law) and the ex was able to round-up a sitter, too. The four of us decided to meet up at a pub and being the foodie that I am, I was the only one eating. You’d think the food would have helped me along when I started ordering vodka crans, yet it didn’t. The food only gave me the illusion of a tough stomach. I had a few too many, and then I had a few too many more when we landed at a local bar and decided to shoot some darts (I don’t get out much). I was tipsy. Beyond tipsy. I rarely drink, so you can imagine how loose as a goose I was. While aiming darts at the dart board (and I was sucking horribly at it) we got on the subject of fate and destiny. I am a firm believer in it, but the ex- not so much. When my ex has an opinion, they are spoken loudly and with little wiggle room for anyone else’s opinions. It’s no wonder that the two of us would often have very explosive fights, leading to a plethora of curse words and with me running for the hills. Even now, there’s still a strange abrasive quality to us. His wife equates it to the two of us picking on each other like bratty little kids.
The alcohol didn’t help my bratty factor. The ex let us know that destiny and fate were ridiculous notions and that things happened “just because”, and anyone who thought differently was wrong. It got to me when he said it, so much so that I told him to can it. Those weren’t my exact words. We had an audience, in a sense. “I wish I had a bowl of popcorn right about now.” My husband’s wit reached my ears, but it didn’t faze me. He took a seat next to the ex’s wife, ready for the show.
“When we were married, do you remember when we decided to start a family?” Yeah, I went there. I went there because I had an excellent point to make, and it’s nothing present company hadn’t heard before. The ex’s wife and I have formed an incredible bond over the last several years, and there’s not much we don’t know about one another. My husband knows me better than I know myself on most days. “I went off the pill, and I didn’t have a period for 4 months. The doctors were stumped. I was a healthy young woman in her early 20’s, no health issues, and here I was, not ovulating. It was around that time that our marriage was crumbling, and I went right back on the pill, no harm, no foul.”
The ex was watching me, trying to figure out where I was going with all of this. He knows I ramble and that I talk a lot before getting to my destination.
“When I re-married, the same month that I went off the pill was the same month I conceived. There weren’t any issues. I had no ovulation problem. BOOM! There I was, pregnant. Why do you think that is?”
He shrugged. “It just happened. So what?”
“It happened because it was meant to happen. You and I were never meant for children. I mean, look at you now! You have three healthy children. There were no issues. But you had those issues with me. You don’t think that there wasn’t some sort of intervention going on there?”
A quick glance at our audience showcased slacked jaws. At least my husband and the ex’s wife was buying it.
“So, time goes on. We divorce. Then in 2006, you send me an e-mail that changed my life. You told me that this guy (I point to my husband) was going through hard times and you suggested I drop him a line, check in on him. That he needed all the friends he could get. And I did, and here we are, happily married. We’ll be married five years next year. If not for you, I would have never contacted him. Let’s go back even further on the timeline. If not for you, I would have never moved to another state, or ended up working for the same company that he worked for. None of us would have met each other or known of each other. All of this has happened because of you.”
I was fired up. My hands were shaking and the vodka crans had long since burned out a trail of fire in my stomach. The ex’s wife stood up and there were tears in her eyes. She held her husband’s hand and said, “Why can’t you see or believe that you are the catalyst for all of this?”
The thing is, he was, he is. He and I have known each other since childhood, the ex and I. I remember a time where we’d chase each other through tall fields. I remember when he put me in the friend zone when I was eleven because I was awkward and gangly, a tomboy who would never be more than a playmate. I knew when I was eighteen that I would marry him someday, I just didn’t know that marrying him would lead to everything I have now. Where I live, the experiences I’ve had (good and bad). Going through the hardships with him prepared me for even worse hardships later in life, but having that experience helped me deal. I don’t hate him and I could never hate him because without him, I don’t think I’d be sitting here in this house that I love, raising my family with a man who loves me unconditionally, a family that I’ve always yearned for and wanted, even if it those things weren’t meant to be with the ex.
He still won’t believe in things happening for a reason. I’ll leave that to his wife to convince him otherwise. The rest of the night was uneventful, other than the projectile vomit the vodka crans evoked in me. Yeah, my husband says I can’t hang, and I believe it. I could go into more detail, but that’s another story for another day, and it’s rather disgusting. The bottom line is, I appreciate what I’ve gone through to get me to where I am today. People have come into my life, and there’s a purpose for that. I believe those fateful steps from my past have brought me here, giving me the reason behind the reason.