The Decision

Everything Changes

by

Matthew T. Lipson

1.3 The Decision

The week had been ... awful.  Monday was her fortieth birthday, and the night of our worst argument.  The details, which are forever imprinted in my brain, are unimportant except the fact our eldest, who was seven, was in the room.  I exploded, as I had finally come to the end of my rope.  This scared my wife, and, once I came to my senses, me too.  We had come to an important crossroads, which could lead us either to heal our marriage or divorce.  The Multiple Sclerosis could no longer be a consideration, or even financial repercussions.  What was our relationship doing to our children?  to me?  By the end of the week, my anxiety attacks, depression, irrational anger had to be addressed.  I had to leave.  Friday, on my way home, I arranged to stay at a friend's house.   When she asked me when I was coming back, I answered, "I'm not."

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.