Starting Over After A Divorce

Jessie had her mother's ashes in a small urn in her purse, $20 her husband gave her when she left, her 32 special under the drivers seat, a bag of salted peanuts in a plastic container, and an energy drink. A tear slipped down her cheek, then dropped onto her t-shirt. She brushed the tear away and began thinking about the way David, her husband, had behaved when she left this morning, his breath reeking of strong alcohol, his eyes swollen from too much booze, and his last words as she left, which were I don't know why you are leaving.

Clouds gathered above, the rain threatening to start any time, which, in Colorado would soon turn to snow. Her tires scraped when she turned the corner, and the 20-year-old Toyota blew smoke when she would pull away from a light, leaving everyone behind her in a hazy black cloud. It didn't matter, because Highway 371 was coming up in about five miles, and that was at least a good two hours of nothing but dry desert, cows, and reservation dogs all skinny and wild, running down the side of the road.

Her stomach growled with hunger but she didn't want to spend the $20 in case the she needed gas or oil, so the peanuts would have to do. She bent down and struggled to drag the plastic container from under the seat with one hand, while keeping her other hand firmly on the wheel. Rain began pummeling the car and would soon turn to sleet, and then snow, something Jessie did not like driving in and was dreading. The sun appeared to be shinning in the distance, so if she could just manage until she got past the storm, the trip would turn out just fine.

He had kept the new car, saying his brother financed it in his name, so he had to keep it, but that was a lie. His brother never did anything for anyone unless it somehow benefited him. She blinked back another tear, swallowing hard and trying to focus on the road. She had made his favorite dinner, stuffed pork chops with cornbread dressing, fresh green beans and a salad. Not only that, a fresh peach pie was cooling on the counter all evening and would have been just the right degree of warm, if he had come home when he said he would. His mother, queen of enabling, had agreed to cover his work at the office so he could go to the Elks Lodge and interview a perspective candidate to be sworn into the Elks. But, that was at 3:00 in the afternoon, and he hadn't come home until 3:00 in the morning. The car was all packed and parked in the shadows when he got home, but then, he had been too drunk to notice anyhow.

The sun began to peek through the clouds, and the rain subsided, which gave Jessie some new hope. She knew this wasn't going to be easy, but who could take his coming home every night from the Lodge, drunk, around two or three in the morning, and then lately he hadn't come home at all every once in a while. That wasn't the life she imagined or wanted. As hard as this was, it was a necessary step in creating a better life for herself. A life free of booze and late nights, a life free of someone saying he thought they were good together, but then doing everything they could to stay away from home.

The next few weeks were difficult, but Jessie was determined to make things work. Going into a low income housing situation wasn't ideal, but it was affordable and that's all that could be thought of now. A small, fixed, monthly income on disability didn't offer much in the way of a great life and David was having a fit because he was asked for $200 a month to make ends meet. That couldn't last long the way he was, but at least it was there for now, and that was all that could be counted on.

The apartment was small but the closet space was generous, and therefore there was plenty of room for storage of things. Once everything was put away the place seemed unusually quiet, no baseball games blasting, no dogs running through the house, and that was a big heartache because Holbrook, the rotty mix she had saved from going to the shelter, couldn't come because there was a size limit on pets in the new place, and Holbrook weighed almost 140 pounds, so he was not welcome. Lying on the bed, Jessie stared at the family pictures on the wall, and was lost without the usual routine she and David had established before he started drinking.

The bathtub filled slowly, and hot tears rolled down her cheeks just thinking about her dog and wondering if David was treating him okay. David had a mixed breed that he was partial to, and poor Holbrook often was last to be fed, last to be let in, last to be petted. The morning she left, Holbrook had jumped up on her, his long legs reaching all the way up to her shoulders, and as best as a dog could, he hugged her and licked her nose. God, had she made the right decision?? Could she have hung on for a while longer, made things better or done something differently? The thoughts swirled, causing her body to stiffen, then feel a cold chill, and then the hot tears came rushing back to her eyes. Going down memory lane wasn't helping, and it was time to figure out how to make her current life livable, to learn how to cook for one, and to replace her baby Holbrook with a new dog. It would have to be a small dog, and she never had owned a small dog, but it would help her get over Holbrook. Hopefully, David would be good to him and he wouldn't have a hard time getting over her.

She pulled herself out of the tub and went to her underwear drawer, only to pull out a bra with a strap chewed in half, a strap Holbrook had chewed in half, and she remembered the day it happened with a sharp pain in her stomach, and sobs beginning to come out automatically. She had been making dinner and he had grabbed a piece of chicken from the counter, and she took it back and chased him into the bedroom where he was told to stay. That's when she caught him chewing her bra strap in half, and she'd yelled at him and swatted him on the butt lightly, but he was obviously hurt by it and he pouted the rest of the night.

She finished dressing through her sobs, and sat down at the kitchen table when she noticed a tablet of paper sitting there. That's when Jessie's mood began to change, and writing in the journal daily was what seemed to get her through every day, and each day got easier. The next step was a new pet, and a 43 pound dog named Bell was the perfect answer. Bell kept her laughing, kept her walking and outside, and mostly showed her so much love she didn't have time to lie on the bed and stare because she was depressed. Not with Bell around, and the two of them did everything together.

Three months after that initial, dreary ride across highway 371, the fog had finally lifted. Bell had a lot to do with that, and the daily walks and keeping journals helped so much too. New friends were being made, and in September, Jessie was taking classes to finish her masters in psychology.