Memories of Christmas and a marriage's end
I pass many months without thinking of my former spouse and the union that ended thirty years ago, a few days before Christmas. Christmas reminds me of W. not only because of that event, but because he was a "Christmas nut", the kind of person who couldn't resist Christmas-themed shops and decorated even the inside of closets.
A charming, highly social man, he would organize carol-sings as soon as December came and hosted an annual screening of "A Christmas Carol", with flaming pudding for dessert. His Christmas Eve Scavenger Hunts were legend, requiring rally-driver timing and the cooperation of streetcar drivers, shopkeepers and firehalls.He drew the line at attire, but this week I saw a man in a Christmas sweater, featuring reindeer, a Christmas tree and presents and thought, I wonder if he'd wear that?
W. believed in big spending on gifts, and given our means, incurred a blizzard of bills that took months to pay. (We had no children together, for which I'm only grateful.)
When we parted, I gave years of luxurious presents to friends: an antique silk kimono to Jean, a Scottish cashmere sweater coat to Grace, a bracelet to Missi. In a kind of reverse "Gift of the Magi", I sold jewelry to replace the furniture he took.
In court one spring day, I noticed he was not wearing the Cartier watch that was my last gift to him, either.
Marked by the marriage, if a present I receive (whether on Christmas or another occasion) entails major financial distress, I can't enjoy what I'm given.
The breakup itself had moments of light within the sadness. Alone and miserable on Christmas day, I tried to coax our cat (now my cat) out of a tree. Hearing my calls, the neighbours came over, one with a garden hose, figuring if Mr. C. were doused, he'd descend. When he brandished the hose, I broke down in tears and revealed my new solitude. I spent Christmas through New Years being warmly received in their homes or with someone perched on my sofa with a mug of tea, barely alone for an hour till it was time to go back to work.
Thirty years later, I think of W. without rancour, and with appreciation for what I learned. That is a gift in itself.
Comments
I love receiving presents, but they often can come with too many strings attached.
Nancy: I don't like 'strings'- and don't think of the things he gave me as having conditions, but I objected to how much he spent. If someone has the means and wants to give me something fabulous, fine :)
Toby: I'm feeling defensive about this anecdote. My first impulse, is to say I did not demand these things. But in truth, I liked them just the same and was kind of a spoiled pet in that marriage.
LPC: Absolutely hallucinatory and sometimes literally as I'd go days without being able to sleep (till saw a doctor.)
Frugal, Oh, I know what happened to him, all right- including his subsequent marriages.
Jean S.; With most, yes, I am. They have gone through their own changes, as you can imagine, in 30 years.
Beatnheart: Had I remained alone, it still would have been saner and healthier than staying with him, but at the time I was devastated.
Demi-pointe: Thank you, sincerely.
Rubiatonta: I saw a therapist then, because I knew very little except that I did not want to make that mistake again. Seems to have worked. (Of course I've made different mistakes!)
Just a reminder to everyone that "things" can be quite empty.
First husband was an "early adopter" of 1980s excess? It can be very hard recovering from such a person, in material terms, which makes the psychological recovery harder as there is less opportunity to treat oneself to a few solitary pleasures or outings with empathetic friends.
I'd have a hard time living with someone that sociable, even if he didn't overindulge in gift-giving. Oh sure, I love a good party, but I need time alone (or with partner, or a good friend) to think and chat.
Such a thoughtful and poignant post.
When Mr. C. got down from that tree he was spitting mad and badly scratched his rescuer- he knew that hose was trained on him.
Ex, as in "excess"?
diverchic: Oh right, you would remember him. Well OK, you said it, not me.
What brought me true laughter was diverchic's comment. Recently a few of my very best girlfriends have been visiting the holiday hells that divorce can bring.. and we generally refer to what we call "the break up mantra" (from the Last of the Mohicans):
*INSERT NAME HERE, you are a man with a few admirable qualities, but taken as a whole, I was wrong to have thought so highly of you
Cheers Ladies... to memories .. and to true happiness!
Terri: I think bizarrely extravagant gifting (to the point of big debt) is not all that unusual. Sometimes I see parents do it with children, too.
Kojima: diverchic always had his number. After we split THREE women took me to lunch (together) to tell me I was better off. They had all slept with him. Glad you, too are happy!
s. Yes. He announced his decision around Dec. 22, moved out and a few days later took me to Christmas dinner (Windsor Arms, you can imagine!), where I wept nonstop. Mr. C got out when he brought me home.
Maria: I'm sorry. May I suggest, if you can, spend time with friends even if you think you are "no fun". It took years before I could regard him with appreciation. Thought it was a great tragedy, but today would not want to be with him for anything!