#Who #Divorce #MovingOn
At 13 years old I experienced my first heartbreak. Well at least my first puppy love level of heartbreak. I had a boyfriend who was three years my senior, which I really had no business having in hindsight. He wasn’t treating me very well so the relationship ended and I was crushed. While sitting with my grandfather over fried okra and pie at Furrs Cafeteria, he told me something I thought was ridiculous at the time. “Shug, in a couple of years you’ll be saying Shannon who?” Shannon was the person who caused my tear shed and I couldn’t imagine not remembering his name. My response, “Grandaddy, you just don’t understand how much I love him.” Fast forward about a year later, same spot, same fried okra, same company. Grandaddy asks if I’d heard from that young man Shannon lately. In a flash, without thinking I replied, “Shannon who?” We belly laughed hysterically reminiscing on the short period of time my amnesia set in. Grandaddy was wrong about one thing, it didn’t take two years, it only took one.
I’m a big girl now. That 13 year old heartbreak could in no way compare to my grown woman issues around love. Ending my marriage in 2013 after a short separation the year earlier, I can say I’ve had my share of love lost. While talking to my counselor, yep I thankfully have one, a miraculous thing happened. I hadn’t really spoken about my ex husband at all in the short time I’ve been in these counseling sessions. We’d run out of time so Ms. counselor said that we’d pick up on that subject during our next session. A very busy two weeks passed by and so did my memory of discussing the ex in our session. She opened the conversation with I’d like to talk a bit about Dareck. (Insert miraculous moment). I paused, looking at her quite confused, I thought to myself, “Dareck who.” Now oftentimes what we think is not necessary the first thing we speak. But my first reaction, my first thought was my truth, for a split second I really had no idea who she was talking about. In the next second as both tears and laughter hit me I recognized what had happened. I was no longer consumed with this man, he was no longer at the forefront of my thoughts. This man that I was married to, who fathered my child, who at one time I loved dearly, was now a “who?” If my Grandaddy were still here I’d go have fried okra with him and just say…. wow.