Divorce Discovery

I don't know if there are still divorce recovery classes offered anymore. Are there? Back in the 90's they were widely known and popular. They were usually hosted by local churches and with only a minimal application fee, if any. In retrospect, they were probably a very good idea.

My nurse friend, (Teresa,) from the hospital I where was also working, and I were both going through nasty divorces. We helped each other by venting our frustrations to one another and making fun of our soon-to-be exes. We needed each other and we also needed outside help, too. Besides, we needed something to do when we weren't working, exercising, barhopping, and shopping. (What I wouldn't give for some of that energy now!)

After going to a couple of weekly evening classes, where we had been given a test to see where we were on the divorce grieving process and also drawing pictures to represent our "feelings," it was determined that I was high on the scale of anger but was ready and willing to get on with my social needs. (In fact, I was having the time of my life being single again. But I was, indeed, irately mad because of custody issues.) Teresa's story was similar.

In many ways, I just wanted to put it all behind me and move on, but the fighting over my daughter, child support, and all that ugliness kept me sucked in. He still needed to try to control me and even punish me.

I didn't particularly like going and "sharing" with other people that were virtual strangers, but I'll be honest...it helped to hear stories that seemed worse than mine. I know that's not very kind or Christian or neighborly, but I'm keeping it real.

One week, I tried my best not to go to the meeting. I had experienced a long and frustrating day at work, already. I just wanted to stay home and have a nice cold beer or two. But Teresa was so persistent. There was not a NO in her vocabulary, so I dragged myself up and just went.

Once we got there, a tad bit late, we were seated in the back, of course. That was okay with me. I just wanted a nap...and that beer. But they served coffee, so that sufficed. There was a guest speaker being introduced and I paid very little attention...just stirred the sugar in my coffee.

But then I heard his voice! It was so calm and soothing. The kind that worked miracles to ease the tension I felt in my shoulders and neck. Being near-sighted and far back from the podium, I could barely make out his shape. He appeared to have dark hair and a lean, muscular body...not the kind that goes to the gym, but the kind that had a God-given gift of DNA. And the more he spoke, the more entranced I became. I don't remember what his message was, but that was unimportant. I just liked the tone and sensuality of the words that sang to my ears.

My plan? Well, I wasn't going to waste any time trying to meet this man and see if he'd be interested in having coffee with me or dinner. Yes, I was going to ask him out. Pretty bold of me, right? I had confidence and like the tests said, I was ready to "socialize."

So, at the conclusion of his talk, and when the clapping subsided, I made my way to the podium. I gave him my best big smile, and thinking he looked as good as he sounded, introduced myself. And then...his response, "Well, I'm Father Anthony, and I'm very pleased to meet you."

I was DEAD in my tracks. And I was ready to go home and get that beer!

====================================================

This story was inspired after reading one of Rachel Deeming's story, causing me to remember something from my past...