The Past is Always Present

Everything Changes

by

Matthew T. Lipson

1.2 The Past is Always Present

A short time after she asked me for a divorce, my wife was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis.  This took us both by surprise.  Even after having children this was a lesson neither of us had learned.  Unknown to me, but not her friends, she had been having increasing mobility issues for a few weeks.  So, when her primary care physician scheduled her for an MRI, I did not take it as seriously as I probably should have.  In the wake of having been asked for a divorce, I really wasn't caring much about what she had to say, anyway.  The diagnosis changed that.  I insisted on going with her to the Neuroligist visits, which she eventually started to hide from me.  In the beginning it was a rallying call giving the illusion that we could mend fences and find what we had meant to each other.  I think, though, both of us knew the diagnosis couldn't hide the deeper damage.  The change on the horizon was getting closer and more inevitable.

The Beginning

Everything Changes

by

Matthew T. Lipson

1.1 The Beginning

Evenings are momentous times.  A lot things happen in the darkened hours.  Children are conceived.  Wars can be won or lost, and bombs of a more personal nature can start a significant change in a person's life.  On this particular evening in June, I was called into the bedroom by my wife.  To say I was surprised by what she said would be untrue.  I had been wondering when the subject of divorce was going to be brought up by either one of us.  To say I was prepared for it would also be untrue.  Commitment to me is sacred.  I flew into a defense mode proclaiming my love to her.  Was what I said untrue?  Not at the time.  Divorce was still not an option.  Now that it was out there, though, I was not ready to acknowledge its reality.  She was ... up to a point.  Even though she was the one asking for the divorce, she did not ask me to leave or was she prepared to leave herself.  Where was this to lead us?  Neither one of us knew.  Nor were we prepared for what was to come next.