It’s been one year, three months, and 23 days since I separated from my spouse. So much has happened. I proceeded with the separation after realizing that fighting the good fight of being married was a lost cause, I’ve been battling depression and anxiety, and in total, my parents and I moved nine times (4 for myself, 5 for them). Realistically, none of those moves should have happened. All but one could have been prevented if the truth was at the forefront. It’s been expensive and mentally exhausting on all of us. Alas, now we’re finally settled into my parent’s forever home (I hope so).

Through all of this, we, the World, struggled through a global pandemic. For us, we also worked on creating a new life in order to feel settled. My parents are 83 and 78, so a new beginning and changes doesn’t come easy.

A Condo with a Supermarket on the Bottom

For years, I would tell my friends how I dreamed about living in a condo with a supermarket at the bottom. I was beyond annoying with this dream of mine. Well I got my dream…somewhat. I lived in a condo in Ottawa and it taught me that I’m not that city girl. There was no supermarket, but there was a lot of thieves and homeless people surrounding the streets of Ottawa. I was left parking outside on the city streets. Parallel parking was not my greatest forte and I’d often get stuck in the snow since they didn’t plow regularly. It was NOT my thing. Not my environment.

Going back to Cambridge triggered me often. After all, happily ever after ended there. When the Coronavirus hit, I decided to finally be open to trying anti-depressants as being alone with no coffee shop open, to seek refuge from my parents, or friends to visit was excruciating. I haven’t been dating and who would really? If you’re following global rules, who can possibly think of getting intimate with a stranger? So the last few months has been filled with long drives, packing and the move. The move to Ingersoll, Ontario with my parents.

We were living in a 900 square foot apartment. During the virus, it was hard living with a feeble father and a chronically depressed mother. It’s been five months since our court date and I’ve been waiting. Since I can’t talk about it, all I can say is that a dime has not been received. Thank God for my parents and the sale of their home in Gaspe. Since I’m unable to work due to living with two elderly people and awaiting return to school, none of my bills wouldn’t get paid otherwise.

So now we’re in our new home in the country. I feel so happy and in my realm. I am 30 minutes from school and 40 minutes from my friends and my son. I have an area in the basement and my own personal space. Chloe loves that she can go right outside rather than living in an apartment with tons of people. It’s perfect for the two of us. I’ll never live in an apartment again. I repeat, I will never live in an apartment again.

I’ve learned one thing during this journey I’m on. Wherever you are, it’s not about the landscape, the festivals, the quietness or hustle and bustle. It’s about friends and family. I’m the fortunate one as my family and friends are so close in proximity. I didn’t have to make any new ones, even though I have. Everything amazing is homemade, and I thank god for the twenty years in Cambridge, because I’ve got the best homemade people around me.

The saddest part of it all is my parents and family are still in shock over my separation. When two people separate it isn’t only about the couple. My Mom focuses more on that opposed to enjoying her new home. It’s a loss for everyone with a heart. I tell her to stop and enjoy her good fortune. Again, a chronic depressive person. It’s very sad to see, and not good for me either as I tend to have meltdowns that I could probably handle well without carrying her burden too.

Moving Forward and Modern Family

Now that we are in the second stage of reopening Ontario, I’m hoping I can get out more. I’m hoping that the courts reopen and the Family Responsibility office is at capacity for employees. I am working hard to put the past behind me, while working on my future. Since COVID, I’ve realized that I’m quite content being single. Without my family in tact, I feel that meeting and focusing on someone else is secondary to achieving my own goals and dreams.

I have been watching Modern Family on Netflix and a certain segment in Season five got me right in the feels last night. I don’t know if you watch it but, Cam and Mitch got married. Mitch and his father, Jay, were in a lengthy argument. Mitch was very agitated at his father as he dealt with ongoing hurdles on his wedding day. Cam’s parents were contemplating separating after 40-some years of marriage. While Jay is happily married to a much younger woman, Jay called his ex-wife and mother of his kids since she could not make the wedding. He started reminiscing about Mitch in his younger years with his ex,. Cam’s parents eavesdropped on this intimate conversation from a distance. At the end of the show, Cam’s parents stayed together when they heard that call. It made me tear up because I said the same time and time again to fight for my marriage. They realized all that they built being married. What they built was memories that can’t be shared intimately with anyone else.

I went to bed a realized, that I was Cam’s mom. Society has different views on “forever and family” and that’s OK. It has to be OK or we’d be in a civil war daily. I’m sad to say I won’t be the ex-wife that Jay has. It’s not easy being the betrayed, and then betrayed over and over again.

I have struggled with living my parents as I felt lesser than, unworthy, needy and abandoned. However, it came to me so suddenly. I will never leave them now. With my mom’s memory questionable at best and my dad’s physical condition, I don’t know when I can possibly leave and feel that they are taken care of. I’m Cam’s Mom. I don’t leave and I care. Even though I’ve been a shit at times this year, I am a rockstar when it comes to love and family.

All I can say now is this. I’m as happy as I can be during COVID and delayed court proceedings. I’m struggling. I’m living, yet I’m loving. I’m trying to live my dreams as a photographer. I’m working it. I’m the true existence of a 47-year old newly single woman who was left with little, and I am rocking it. I’m being true to those who deserve it. Who have always deserved it; myself and those who have loved me through thick or thin.

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