Going Home
Two weeks ago, to the day, at 2 in the morning I boarded the plane in Alaska. Destination... Phoenix, Philadelphia, and New York. When I left Alaska, it was about 20 degrees. We had felt the sting of winter in the previous days. I left the snow and ice behind and arrived in Phoenix, Arizona where it was a pleasant 73 degrees in November. I browsed a few stores during my layover, enjoyed the warm air, picked up more souvenirs, and pondered my very first flight.
Flying was not as bad as I thought it was going to be. The turbulence was frightening at first, but I soon realized that no one on the plane was upset by it but me. The 5 hour flight into Arizona was pretty long, but I was overcome by sleep about halfway through the flight and that seemed to speed things up.
By the time I reached Philadelphia, Pennsylvania from Arizona, I was a pro at flying. The 35 minute flight from Pennsylvania to Newburgh, New York was a cake walk! No nerves at this point. I thoroughly enjoyed the ride! I arrived in New York at about 8:30pm on Thursday.
I stepped outside to the chill of New York air and suddenly the grim reality of packing up my house and going through old memories threw that chill up my spine.
The next 9 days would be harrowing. I decided to stay with my parents for the night instead of making the two and half hour drive up to my house in Owego, NY. I was in no rush to pack up 13 years of my life and leave this homestead that I once swore I would never leave. That would come in time and I would have the unattractive chore of executing it by myself.
The next morning, I hopped in my little Volkswagen and took my time driving upstate. It took almost 3 hours. I arrived in the Binghamton area around 4:00pm and decided to visit some friends that I had the pleasure of working with. I had made it just in time for dinner and was able to enjoy some good food and great conversation! I found that this fun filled evening of laughter and joking made it a little easier to make the drive to my house. When I arrived, my kids were home and waiting for me. The ex-hole was no where to be found. Turns out, this was a good thing.
My 15 and 17 year old were not overjoyed to see me. I'm not sure why I thought they would be, but in any case, I passed out their souvenirs, gave them hugs, told them of my travels, and then thought I would relax for the night. I knew in the morning I would start the long, and arduous task of packing and by the condition that the ex left the house in, I knew I would be doing some cleaning as well. My 17 year old had other plans for me, however. He needed a ride to some school event, but I needn't worry about getting him afterwards because he was going to be spending the night with his friend and was that okay, since he would be living with him anyway shortly. I took a deep breath and sighed. I hoisted myself up out of the recliner that I had just made myself comfortable in and completed the request of my middle child. No rest for the weary..
In the morning my 15 year old got himself around to getting ready for school. This meant that it would be up to me to begin this undertaking. I looked around the house, full of clutter and messes that the ex had walked away from. Dishes in the sink piled high, laundry not done and stacked by the washer, pictures on the floor, books, papers and mail scattered about, no doubt knocked over by the cats jumping on the desk. I panicked and screamed in my head, "Where do I start?!!"
I walked into the living room feeling defeated and wondered when the ex was going to be back to help me. Weeks earlier when I left, I had asked him to start packing things up. We knew that things weren't going change. We knew this was it between us and that we were going to part ways when I returned. We tried to stay living in the same house for last two years because my 17 year old wanted to finish school here in the Tioga district. Aaron would be graduating this year and we both promised him that we would stay together to accommodate his request of finishing out the year with his friends at the school he grew up in. Of course, asking my ex to do anything other than his planned activities of watching television and playing video games was like asking a rock to move. He hadn't packed a thing. He did nothing in the house the entire 4 weeks I was gone. I sat in the recliner for just a few moments and looked around the room. My curiosity was piqued when I noticed that all the video games and their corresponding consoles were gone. I immediately got up and went into the bedroom. His side of the room was clean. No clothes were on the floor, no clothes were on the bed. I opened the closet door, it was devoid of any manly attire. I ran to his dresser and one by one pulled open his drawers only to be greeted with dust and a barren dresser. I wondered no longer whether or not he would be back.
Once again the responsibility fell to me to get things done. I should not have been surprised at this. I sat on the bed, lowered my head to my hands and began to sob. I was angry and sad yet glad that he was not here to see me like this. Large tears rolled through my fingers as my body heaved and my voice cried out.
His words came back to haunt me,
"This is all your doing!"
And he was right.
I sat there, on the bed, our bed and cried for a long time. I cried because I was breaking up the family, because we were losing the house and my life seemed so out of control. It was all my fault. I didn't want to be with my husband anymore because of an addiction that overtook him. I couldn't fight it any longer and it wasn't something he wanted to work on anyway. I lost everything and yet was gaining a new chance to a new chapter in my life. I sobbed harder than I have at any other time in my life and when there were no more tears to cry, I prayed. I needed God to take this pain away. I needed him to get me through this and make me strong. I needed a savior.
And save me he did. I came to the realization that if the ex could take only what he wanted then why couldn't I do the same? If he didn't have to care about things, why should I? I explained to my kids that we were only packing what we wanted and we were leaving the rest. The ex gets the house in the divorce and I figured he could deal with everything else that was left behind; or not.. but either way, it wasn't my responsibility any longer. Over the next few days, we packed 13 years into 10 boxes. I listed the furniture and appliances on Craigslist and what I could not sell, I donated to the individuals that I worked with before I left.
Wednesday could not come soon enough. My Dad came up to my house to help with the boxes I had. He said there was no use renting a U-haul for only 10 boxes. We loaded up his car and mine. I turned off the electric, emptied the water in the pipes, closed the door to the house and never looked back. I walked away from 13 years of marriage, and many memories in that house. My kids grew up in that house and it was a beautiful piece of property on 15 acres with a spectacular view of the mountain. But I didn't look back because I couldn't. I couldn't bring myself to take one last look and remember happier times or a once bright future with a young couple so endlessly in love. I couldn't do it. I wouldn't.
During the week that I was there, it wasn't all packing all the time. I took some time out to visit friends that I knew I was not going to see again for quite some time. The ones I did get to see always found encouraging words to send me off with. They were all happy for me and some were even jealous that they could not find their own adventure to go on. But even among all of this camaraderie, this area felt distant and dismal. I no longer felt that I belonged here. I felt lonely and empty. How I longed for the bright, clear, blue skies, snow capped mountains and crystal green waters of Alaska! Soon enough I'll be back there, I reminded myself. But, I had one last thing to do... Spend some time with my boys!
As exciting as it was to be starting over in a new area, this feeling was bitter sweet. I would only be taking one of my sons on this 4200 mile journey. Aaron will get his wish of graduating with his long-time friends, fellow teammates, his girlfriend and his best friend. He is staying behind to live with his friend and their family. Aaron will be 18 in about a month and as is customary in the US, after graduating high school he would be off to college anyway. Either way, he would be coming into his own and leaving me. It still hit me pretty hard when I realized that this would be the first year we would be apart for the holidays. But I also took comfort in the fact that I had known this family for over 10 years and they were excellent people with values for raising children similar to my own. He will be in very capable hands. As any good son would do, Aaron took the day off from school and came with me and his younger brother, Josh, down to my parents house to spend one last day together for awhile. His older brother, Steven, even decided to forgo his friends for the evening and the four of us chatted, and played cards well into the wee hours of the morning. With little to no sleep the following day, Steven ventured out to work, Aaron drove the two and a half hours back to his school in order to be eligible to play in his final football game, and Josh and I set out to fly home. Home to Alaska.
Flying was not as bad as I thought it was going to be. The turbulence was frightening at first, but I soon realized that no one on the plane was upset by it but me. The 5 hour flight into Arizona was pretty long, but I was overcome by sleep about halfway through the flight and that seemed to speed things up.
By the time I reached Philadelphia, Pennsylvania from Arizona, I was a pro at flying. The 35 minute flight from Pennsylvania to Newburgh, New York was a cake walk! No nerves at this point. I thoroughly enjoyed the ride! I arrived in New York at about 8:30pm on Thursday.
I stepped outside to the chill of New York air and suddenly the grim reality of packing up my house and going through old memories threw that chill up my spine.
The next 9 days would be harrowing. I decided to stay with my parents for the night instead of making the two and half hour drive up to my house in Owego, NY. I was in no rush to pack up 13 years of my life and leave this homestead that I once swore I would never leave. That would come in time and I would have the unattractive chore of executing it by myself.
The next morning, I hopped in my little Volkswagen and took my time driving upstate. It took almost 3 hours. I arrived in the Binghamton area around 4:00pm and decided to visit some friends that I had the pleasure of working with. I had made it just in time for dinner and was able to enjoy some good food and great conversation! I found that this fun filled evening of laughter and joking made it a little easier to make the drive to my house. When I arrived, my kids were home and waiting for me. The ex-hole was no where to be found. Turns out, this was a good thing.
My 15 and 17 year old were not overjoyed to see me. I'm not sure why I thought they would be, but in any case, I passed out their souvenirs, gave them hugs, told them of my travels, and then thought I would relax for the night. I knew in the morning I would start the long, and arduous task of packing and by the condition that the ex left the house in, I knew I would be doing some cleaning as well. My 17 year old had other plans for me, however. He needed a ride to some school event, but I needn't worry about getting him afterwards because he was going to be spending the night with his friend and was that okay, since he would be living with him anyway shortly. I took a deep breath and sighed. I hoisted myself up out of the recliner that I had just made myself comfortable in and completed the request of my middle child. No rest for the weary..
In the morning my 15 year old got himself around to getting ready for school. This meant that it would be up to me to begin this undertaking. I looked around the house, full of clutter and messes that the ex had walked away from. Dishes in the sink piled high, laundry not done and stacked by the washer, pictures on the floor, books, papers and mail scattered about, no doubt knocked over by the cats jumping on the desk. I panicked and screamed in my head, "Where do I start?!!"
I walked into the living room feeling defeated and wondered when the ex was going to be back to help me. Weeks earlier when I left, I had asked him to start packing things up. We knew that things weren't going change. We knew this was it between us and that we were going to part ways when I returned. We tried to stay living in the same house for last two years because my 17 year old wanted to finish school here in the Tioga district. Aaron would be graduating this year and we both promised him that we would stay together to accommodate his request of finishing out the year with his friends at the school he grew up in. Of course, asking my ex to do anything other than his planned activities of watching television and playing video games was like asking a rock to move. He hadn't packed a thing. He did nothing in the house the entire 4 weeks I was gone. I sat in the recliner for just a few moments and looked around the room. My curiosity was piqued when I noticed that all the video games and their corresponding consoles were gone. I immediately got up and went into the bedroom. His side of the room was clean. No clothes were on the floor, no clothes were on the bed. I opened the closet door, it was devoid of any manly attire. I ran to his dresser and one by one pulled open his drawers only to be greeted with dust and a barren dresser. I wondered no longer whether or not he would be back.
Once again the responsibility fell to me to get things done. I should not have been surprised at this. I sat on the bed, lowered my head to my hands and began to sob. I was angry and sad yet glad that he was not here to see me like this. Large tears rolled through my fingers as my body heaved and my voice cried out.
His words came back to haunt me,
"This is all your doing!"
And he was right.
I sat there, on the bed, our bed and cried for a long time. I cried because I was breaking up the family, because we were losing the house and my life seemed so out of control. It was all my fault. I didn't want to be with my husband anymore because of an addiction that overtook him. I couldn't fight it any longer and it wasn't something he wanted to work on anyway. I lost everything and yet was gaining a new chance to a new chapter in my life. I sobbed harder than I have at any other time in my life and when there were no more tears to cry, I prayed. I needed God to take this pain away. I needed him to get me through this and make me strong. I needed a savior.
And save me he did. I came to the realization that if the ex could take only what he wanted then why couldn't I do the same? If he didn't have to care about things, why should I? I explained to my kids that we were only packing what we wanted and we were leaving the rest. The ex gets the house in the divorce and I figured he could deal with everything else that was left behind; or not.. but either way, it wasn't my responsibility any longer. Over the next few days, we packed 13 years into 10 boxes. I listed the furniture and appliances on Craigslist and what I could not sell, I donated to the individuals that I worked with before I left.
Wednesday could not come soon enough. My Dad came up to my house to help with the boxes I had. He said there was no use renting a U-haul for only 10 boxes. We loaded up his car and mine. I turned off the electric, emptied the water in the pipes, closed the door to the house and never looked back. I walked away from 13 years of marriage, and many memories in that house. My kids grew up in that house and it was a beautiful piece of property on 15 acres with a spectacular view of the mountain. But I didn't look back because I couldn't. I couldn't bring myself to take one last look and remember happier times or a once bright future with a young couple so endlessly in love. I couldn't do it. I wouldn't.
During the week that I was there, it wasn't all packing all the time. I took some time out to visit friends that I knew I was not going to see again for quite some time. The ones I did get to see always found encouraging words to send me off with. They were all happy for me and some were even jealous that they could not find their own adventure to go on. But even among all of this camaraderie, this area felt distant and dismal. I no longer felt that I belonged here. I felt lonely and empty. How I longed for the bright, clear, blue skies, snow capped mountains and crystal green waters of Alaska! Soon enough I'll be back there, I reminded myself. But, I had one last thing to do... Spend some time with my boys!
As exciting as it was to be starting over in a new area, this feeling was bitter sweet. I would only be taking one of my sons on this 4200 mile journey. Aaron will get his wish of graduating with his long-time friends, fellow teammates, his girlfriend and his best friend. He is staying behind to live with his friend and their family. Aaron will be 18 in about a month and as is customary in the US, after graduating high school he would be off to college anyway. Either way, he would be coming into his own and leaving me. It still hit me pretty hard when I realized that this would be the first year we would be apart for the holidays. But I also took comfort in the fact that I had known this family for over 10 years and they were excellent people with values for raising children similar to my own. He will be in very capable hands. As any good son would do, Aaron took the day off from school and came with me and his younger brother, Josh, down to my parents house to spend one last day together for awhile. His older brother, Steven, even decided to forgo his friends for the evening and the four of us chatted, and played cards well into the wee hours of the morning. With little to no sleep the following day, Steven ventured out to work, Aaron drove the two and a half hours back to his school in order to be eligible to play in his final football game, and Josh and I set out to fly home. Home to Alaska.
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