D-i-v-o-r-c-e

Dolly--you have to love her. No really, you HAVE to. Everyone loves her.

So today was the day. David moved out in July 2020, which meant we could apply for divorce two years later. It then took five months to get a court date--today. David had already signed the papers. I went to a solicitor's office and had a zoom call with a judge (with a wig) in a courtroom, where he asked me a few questions, mainly confirming that we had lived apart for two years. And then he decreed we were divorced.

I felt light on my feet. Marriages break down in a very slow and painful way, and then there's a very long wait for the legal system to affirm the obvious. It feels good to finally have closure. David and I remain on good terms, as far as I know. We don't see each other much, but, for instance, when he was in the US recently, I took care of his plants. Maybe a year ago we signed a document confirming that we have no claim on each other financially, so that made the divorce a lot simpler. No fighting over pensions or bank accounts.

I came back to my home office and got an email from my boss that he wants to put me in for a promotion. My second in a year. What a great day this is turning out to be! But alas, we shouldn't tempt fate. In the afternoon I had an upsetting phone call with my mother, who is upset because my sister is upset. My sister and I don't speak but had to communicate recently because mom is updating her will. It didn't go well. It never does.

I had to quickly pull myself together as four people were coming to my house to drink champagne en route to a meeting at the golf club on changing the governance structure. It was nice to get out the Waterford and have a round of clinks to celebrate the end of an era. And nice to focus on governance instead of family dynamics.

Dec. 1