Christmas 2009: 99 percent good, one percent ridiculous

Spent Christmas split between my sister's house and my brother's place near Sacramento. It was probably as nice as it could have bee, without my children. For years, I have read "Twas the Night Before Christmas" to my children, even when I wasn't there for them. Last year, I read it to them over the phone. This year? The wife couldn't even figure out a way to have the kids contact me on Christmas Eve. So no, I didn't read them a story like I had so many times before. And when it came to actually speaking to them, I was given exactly five minutes and nine seconds to talk to them -- which once they figured out who I was, I said hello and was able to make it past the boyfriend's Russian mother's accent -- was probably closer to three minutes. Three minutes to share with two children what their Christmas was like. That's one-and-one-half minutes per child. It almost takes me that long to blink. And here's the kicker: Just as has been the case before, no one seems fit enough over there to pay for a phone with long distance. Jim had the same problem with Destiny. He didn't have long distance on his phone. This is nearly 2010, not 1910. What person in this day and age doesn't have long-distance phone service? Even I, with my crappy pay-as-you-go phone, have long distance. No, my phone doesn't have a camera on it, can't take video, and, as far as I can tell, you can't download ringtones or ring-back tones of songs about how someone's ex-husband is a tool that an unsuspecting person has to hear every time he calls to tell his kids how much he loves and misses them. Nope, I just have a simple phone that even little ol' me keeps charged and filled with minutes, just in case the kids want to call me...obviously since I can't call them, cuz Mom hasn't paid her phone bill. It's pretty close to Christmas, and I should have the Spirit inside of me, but even I struggle with the notion of being kind and burying my negative feelings about what transpired between the kids and I this Christmas. I really did have a nice Christmas, visiting family and friends, some of whom I hadn't seen in a long time. They were all very kind and generous to me, as they have been for such a long time. My brother's wife is pregnant, so that's definitely a thrill. But it is indeed hard to concentrate on all of the joy that the season brings when your greatest joy -- that of reconnecting with loved ones -- gets derailed time and time again. And I pretty much have to smile, and forgive, and never bring the subject up again, for fear of having it being brought up against me. I have to do the Christ-like thing that she never has done during this time. Forgive her, forge ahead and move on, and hope that I get to talk to the kids sometime before we have to wear parkas in Hades. I wonder sometimes: Is it really worth it to be so kind to someone who doesn't deserve it? I didn't pray for Cherie and the kids last night. I was too upset. I'm still pretty hot about what happened, mostly because I can't believe Cherie can't get her act together enough to have the decency to allow me to talk to my kids on Christmas. I will pray for them tonight, if only because I know that if I am to be blessed, I must, must forgive those who continually shoot arrows at me. I only wish it wasn't so bloody hard, and that the pain I feel inside would go away.

Thinking about Christmas

For the second straight year, Christmas to me isn't going to mean that much. Last Christmas, I was working, yet my good friends Gordon and Camille made the last few hours of Christmas perhaps the most inspirational Christmas ever. It was very touching. I went to work, and Gordon invited me to his house for dinner. After calling me several times to say that dinner had been delayed, he called me one last time and told me to meet him at a restaurant. I did, and I was expecting Gordon and Camille and Tanner and the triplets to come bounding out of their van. The van arrived, and Gordon was by himself. I was shocked. Where's your family? I asked. Seems the Christmas dinner never got cooked. But Gordon promised me that he would take me out to dinner. He said he made a promise to me that he would not back from. So while Camille and the kids were home eating hot dogs, Gordon and I celebrated Christmas dinner at a Chinese buffet, kind of like Tim Allen and his kid in "The Santa Clause," when they ate at Denny's. Gordon took me to his house, and we had dessert and I remarked to Gordon that this was my first Christmas where I didn't have any presents. Oh no, Gordon and Camille said. Under the tree were two presents: a meat and cheese sampler, and a framed painting of Jesus with two children on his lap. I cried when I got those gifts. It was the most special thing anyone not related to me had ever done for me. I loved it so much. I vowed then that I would try and be as kind to others as the Southams had been to me. I owe a debt of gratitude to my own family for taking me in during this time. It feels good to be with my mom, sister and dad at different times. Each has been kind to me during this time. Christmas doesn't have the same feeling it once did, for many reasons. But I'm with people I love, who love me. I worry about being a pest or over-staying my welcome, but by the beginning of January, I should be in a good position to get myself to Idaho, because I will be enrolled in school, close to my children, and making a new life for myself. I am looking forward to a much more positive 2010, and I have the kindness of good friends and family to thank for that. Without their help, encouragement and financial ability, my life would certanly be a bit worse for wear.

A good convo, post-relationship

I had a nearly hour-long conversation with Cherie on Thursday morning. It was the most even-handed conversation I've probably ever had with her.

We talked about a lot of things that were meaningful...her school, how she's doing (seems to be doing fairly well); about Christmas (sadly, I won't be there), how her mom's doing (nearly off the drugs to wean her off addiction to painkillers), about the kids...about my job search.

If we are ever to have a relationship -- one where we can talk civilly to each other -- it's probably going to have to start with me. We will probably never be together again, but at least perhaps we can be friends. I always want that. I want more, of course, but friends is where it will be for the foreseeable future.

As I've said before, I think most of the effort will have to come from me. She doesn't have to make an effort. But I do, for the sake of the children. Understand, this woman is someone I love and someone I would accept for all of her shortcomings, but she does not want that. Still, our conversation was a good one. It was quite relaxed, in fact. Like there was no pressure involved. Which is what I have wanted all along, and the way I've been instructed to act from very early on in this, which I have not.

Perhaps there was no pressure because we both realize that there won't be an "us" anymore, as much as I would like there to be. There's certainly no pressure on her part -- she's already moved on. Is there pressure on me? Not really, for what pressure is there to treat someone kindly? None.

I know I'm spinning a pipe dream here, but what if this were to continue? Let's not think about that now. I have too many things to take care of, mainly my health, a job, my education and my children.

She asked me about the papers. I simply said it is what it is, and that I of course never wanted this, but that we both would get through this. I suppose what I want in our relationship doesn't matter at the moment. Maybe this is the unconditional love Heavenly Father was talking about -- giving somebody something they want or treating them the way they want to be treated, no matter what the outcome is. No, I don't want a divorce. I love Cherie with all of my heart, and I want the kids to be with us always, together. I love them more than life itself.

But maybe we just let time take its course. I am not expecting it to be easy, and there probably will be more tears shed over this. I hope there isn't. It won't be easy, and it's not what I want. Perhaps both parties may realize that a split isn't what they want either, and that the person they wanted all along was staring right in front of them.

That's exactly how I feel, anyway.

The beginning of the end

Today, for the first time, I took a hard look at the divorce papers. And I found out there are some things in there I can change, or at least respond to, that will trigger a hearing that may help me get what I need in this divorce.

I hate that word so much, because it is not what I want, but I don't have much choice. If I let it go, then she gets everything she wants. I have to at least answer her demands. I am hopeful this can be done in the least painful way possible for Cherie and I.

It's over. It really is. There is nothing that I can do that will make her come back. If she chooses to come back, it will be because she chooses to do so, not because I asked her.

I feel OK about it. It of course isn't what I envisioned when I married Cherie, but perhaps, after eight years of marriage, maybe I never really took it serious enough to warrant being a marriage for the long haul. Perhaps I chose the wrong person. The more I think about it, the more that becomes a plausible situation. Perhaps she chose the wrong person, too. I don't know if I'll ever get the chance to ask her.

What I do know, however, is that my heart is still virtually full of love for someone else. The love I have for my children never changes -- that love is boundless and endless. Do I have love in my heart for someone else, whomever that may be? I'm going to go on the record and say yes, I do. Do I want to be married again? Too early to tell, but if I do, there unfortunately will have to be a fairly steep set of guidelines that anyone I am involved with will have to be committed to. And I would expect that the other person would have a pretty stringent set of guidelines, too.

It's not really time to think about that now. For the first time since 1999, I feel free. Free to do my own things, chart my own course, and be the man I want and need to be.

Will I ever get married again? I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to share my life with someone else. I do. But I have bigger priorities now that must be addressed before we ever get to that. I've spent nearly two years brooding over this.

I will always love Cherie, and I will always keep the door open. She knows that. There is a built-in love that will always be available to her.

But now, I've got much more pressing matters to attend to.

Writing and wondering

Been writing a lot the past few days. Freelancing, as much as I've done it now, doesn't compare to the pace of a fulltime job.

It is a living, though, such as it is, and I can't complain. Though I haven't gotten paid yet, which has a bearing on what I'll be doing for Christmas. If I don't get paid soon, I won't be going home to see the kids.

Had a brief reunion with some friends I hadn't seen in years the other day; they were friends from my first job in journalism not too far from Fresno. It was good to see them and hang out and share old times. We may even get together in January sometime.

I haven't talked to the kids much, which is kind of sad. Since the papers arrived, Cherie and I haven't spoken, and I'm probably not going to bring the subject up. There really is no point. It is what it is, I guess.

Would be nice to go and live there, though. Next week, I'm applying for school, so that will be something positive.

For the first time ever, however, I confronted my mom about her problems with alcohol. It was not a pretty sight, as we were at the home of perhaps her best friend when I did this. I yelled at her, and generally acted in a way that does not make me proud in the least to say that I did those things. They needed to be said, yes, but in a kind and gentle way.

Of course, my mom remembered exactly zero part of the conversation when I reminded her, which in itself is a bit scary. Too sloshed to remember your son yelled at you? A part of me wished she would forget, but I didn't want her to. Now, apologizing again has no meaning whatsoever. Still, I was not proud of what I did, even if it was necessary.

So now, we move on. To what, I'm not sure...

The arrival of the obvious

It arrived with a ring of the doorbell, just about 8 p.m. I had been waiting for this day for more than a year. There was a time when I would come home and wonder if the thin envelope would simply be placed at my door, or delivered to my place of work.

For a long time, it was a day I openly dreaded: the day that Cherie would serve me with divorce papers.

I didn't dread this evening. No, I'd had more than a year, nearly two years to digest some information. The door to this path had been opened for a long time, and while I never campaigned for it, I always told her and others that a filing for divorce would be something that she would have to do, because I never would.

Oh, there are feelings of sadness. Not many, because I did my grieving a long time ago. It's not time to grieve any more. This gives our situation some clarity. Not much, but some. I hope it will eliminate all of the negative talk that has transpired between us over nearly the past two years. Much of it has subsided, of course, and a wise man like myself will hopefully continue to be wise and avoid any further negative words or confrontation, which would only add to the notion that I might be a person who can't handle this situation.

It does point to the fact that I need to be with my children now more than ever. I will get there soon. I must. There is a ticking clock now, and the ticking clock is not set by me, but by a court of law. Those kids need me in the personal and legal sense.

If I am there, I can better work to set an agenda that fits both my needs and the needs of my children. I can't do that from here.

As for me and Cherie, there isn't a me and Cherie anymore. Not in the form any of us would like, anyway. She is someone I will always love, but she does not see eye to eye with me on a number of fronts, including the commitment it must take to be both a wife and a mother. She can't be both. That's about as negative as I'm going to get. She doesn't know how to be both.

I feel strangely almost unemotional about the whole thing. Maybe that was the idea all along; that this would happen at a time and place when I felt no emotional attachment to a legal piece of paper. I don't. Not anymore. There is no sense in feeling emotional about something, especially when the other responsible party feels about as much emotion as you do.

More than a year ago, I filed for divorce, with tears in my eyes. It was not something I wanted to do. I cried at the courthouse, in the elevator, and to my friends. The file sits tucked away in a suitcase, where it will remain.

This file will be answered appropriately and in due time. But there is no reason to get emotional or fill anyone's head with lies and wild stories of things done and said in the course of our marriage, which actually, legally lasted eight years and change. I want to be with my children as much as possible, and be a father that they need most of all.

Cherie and I? Not going to happen. If it does, it must come from her. She knows where I am and has a key to the lock on the door. But I'm done forcing her to open it.

Not going to get complacent

It's been a while since I wrote on this, so I figure it's as good a time as any to get caught up in what's going on.

I have a driver's license now, and insurance, so I can drive myself places. That's good. I'm still freelancing for the paper, though I haven't gotten paid, and I'm hoping it will happen soon, because it will determine whether I get to go see Isaac and Savannah this Christmas.

I am working out about three to four days a week. I need to lose more weight; as I haven't lost much at this point.

I have an interview with the IRS tomorrow for a temporary job, and I'm a bit nervous for some reason. I need to make money so I can go be with the kids permanently.

My family has been very kind to me in letting me stay with them. I hope they know that. If they don't, I have to be sure and tell them.

I said I don't want to get complacent, because there are a number of things I still must do before leaving town: Earn more money, sign up for school and lose more weight. I got Isaac's report card from his teacher, and I would call it a middling effort. I need to be more in contact with his teacher so I can help him. I want him to succeed.

I also want to help him lose weight. I need to be there for him and for Savannah. I still miss them much, and being away from them makes me feel like I don't belong anywhere else but right by their side.