When I remarried, I moved into my husband’s home. My home, on the scruffy side and in need of much repair, sat vacant after our marriage. My husband and I thought it might make a nifty place for visiting friends and relatives to stay but it didn’t work out that way.
\n
\nA real estate friend finally convinced us the house would be better sold than standing vacant and so it became necessary for me to clean from the house personal items from a past life. I’d been dreading the chore, not so much for the work involved as trying to sort through memories of a life once full of hope and dreams.<\/p>\n
I packed away photographs of people I used to call family. We don’t keep in touch anymore. There are no children who need to be reminded of who their grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins, nephews, and nieces are. I am a reminder to them of a marriage that failed. There is another wife who takes my place in their family so I am a memory best forgotten.<\/p>\n
I sorted the important papers from the insignificant, placing one stack in secured boxes and the other in the trash. Not all of those papers I trashed were “insignificant,” but they have no place in my new life.<\/p>\n
I sailed in that past life and photography was a bit more than just a hobby. Thinking about sailing reminds me of the friends I used to have and the good times we shared. Strange how we don’t “fit” anymore. We’ve all changed. Of course, I “lost” most of the friends due to the divorce. That’s to be expected.<\/p>\n
I’ve changed, too. I have new friends now, they’ve helped me through a lot of heartache, and I think they may understand me much better sometimes than I understand myself.<\/p>\n
I sat on the dock and looked across the water to the neighbor’s dock where they trapped and killed an alligator that became too dangerous. I wondered if any eight-pound bass still swam among the grasses grabbing the newly hatched baby ‘gators. Fishing was a part of that life.<\/p>\n
What does one do with old wedding pictures? It wasn’t a fancy wedding but it began a shared life with so many expectations for the both of us.<\/p>\n
It was difficult sifting through the memories of a life that no longer exists except for a few things packed in boxes, a moment in time shared with someone who changed my life for the better even if we no longer share a life together. It began and ended as it should.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
When I remarried, I moved into my husband’s home. My home, on the scruffy side and in need of much repair, sat vacant after our marriage. My husband and I thought it might make a nifty place for visiting friends and relatives to stay but it didn’t work out that way.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[3],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/patg.com\/articles\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/880"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/patg.com\/articles\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/patg.com\/articles\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/patg.com\/articles\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/patg.com\/articles\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=880"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/patg.com\/articles\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/880\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3000,"href":"https:\/\/patg.com\/articles\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/880\/revisions\/3000"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/patg.com\/articles\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=880"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/patg.com\/articles\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=880"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/patg.com\/articles\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=880"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}