Some Things Can’t Be Explained

Tonight, my ex-husband showed up in my Facebook feed as one of the “People you may know.” It said, too, that we had one friend in common. Yes, we do. She has children of her own now, our grandchildren.

To have him show up this way, in a list with barely known people from professional settings and friends of friends I only communicate with on Facebook, seemed so curious. Scrolling through the list, I stopped at his picture. He looked distinguished and prosperous and very well.

I haven’t had a conversation with him in years, not since our child stopped needing the agreement of parents to arrange weekends or holidays. Through those years, he was dependable and good humored and, while I remember being a single parent as being very difficult, he never made it worse. Not a single time. Never second guessed me and never criticized me despite having ample material.

We ended our marriage years after our divorce, slowly packing all the leftover dishes and pictures in small boxes that we taped shut with masking tape. Box by box, our marriage turned to negotiation and then to cooperation and then it evaporated because every reason for our association had disappeared.

So tonight when his picture showed up as a suggested Facebook friend, I didn’t consider it for even two seconds. We would not be Facebook friends. We have, both of us, so utterly and completely moved on that even being Facebook friends seems excessive to me.

If, on the other hand, he should ever need a kidney, I hope he knows he can call me. Absolutely. No questions asked.

Don’t ask me why that is. It just is.


#31/100: 31st in a series of 100 essays in 100 days


10 Comments on “Some Things Can’t Be Explained

  1. I spent some time this afternoon browsing on your blog. I’m so glad I found it. I remember saying, when a friend asked if I would ever be able to forgive my ex-husband, “I already have. I can’t discount a person I spent 23 years with, most of them happy.” On the other hand, it felt right to let our relationship fade away completely. I loved this post, especially the last two paragraphs.

  2. This makes me think of the people who have passed through my life, that I now would not search out, or would now have nothing in common with, except for that touch of ‘life loyalty’ (what a fantastic term). There is that loyalty, however minute, for what once was, for the impact on who I was at that moment in time, and probably, for how that moment in time shaped the future. Not only a great post here, but wonderful writing. Your writing voice always sucks me right in.

  3. I think that to be able to truly move on the way you have takes a lot of courage and discipline. I admire your resolve and especially the sense of peace that I can ‘hear’ from this post. I loved the rhythm of this essay, your insights, your words. Thank you!

  4. I had hoped that one day we may be friends but that would be filled with too much pain (for me).
    I think the idea of any need for association evaporating sound like a much better place to me.

  5. What a touching post. I don’t have an ex but I totally understand. I applaud people who can move beyond the anger and dislike that caused a divorce, to be able to work together for the sake of children. How much better your life is that you can be ready to care about him if he really needs it, without needing him in your life. Bravo. Very well written.

  6. “…..and then it evaporated because every reason for our association had disappeared.” I know this. But I also understand life loyalty to someone because of what’s past. Great post.

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