Standing Up
On getting my feet under me again: (or “it takes a village”)
It’s gone cold, again. The cow birds, junkos & crows are out with a vengeance. Many blue jays showing off their aerial superiority, their penchant for bullying, the geese came back a month ago. But it’s May in Manitoba. There’s a reason we wait till Victoria Day (21 May) to put anything in the ground. Yesterday there was snow. I wouldn’t have minded seeing the ground, the world turn white again. It’s pretty that way. The snow covers many things…(can one leave their heart out there to be covered?)
It’s fast coming up on the first week since my wife & I split. It’s been a whirlwind; I won’t lie. Last Monday, I had to drive a couple hours to my parent’s place. Nowhere else to go, I sought refuge there. Well, I had other places to go, but not the time nor inclination to spend any more time in extreme awkwardness…
There were tears in my eyes. I cursed the whole two & change hours I was driving. I tried to hug my daughter as long as she would let me. (“Daddy. Will you come back? Will you sleep here again?” she whispered, already knowing the answer.) The crack in the world’s walls, the crumbling of an edifice you’d spent so much time building, working your way up. The final change in everything you’ve known so far.
But it’s had some amazing moments, too. Sometimes, it feels like those are almost harder to deal with…
I left my house, their house, with no job, no prospects, a friend who’d agreed to let me crash at his place but no place of my own, not much to call mine/a life. (I still, technically, have a job, but being immune compromised, I haven’t worked there since March.) It seemed bleak. I was bleak.
& yet, there were changes afoot.
After not drowning (somehow) my sorrows in alcohol (can’t/won’t), I returned to the town I call home. Having an inkling that, perhaps, in a coronavirus world, delivery gigs would be 1) on an upswing, & 2) that I could physically handle a light version of that work, I texted someone who I’ve known for a while who I thought might have something like that with her business. She texted back minutes later, saying she was so sorry to hear about the separation but the delivery aspect wasn’t something she had available. She did, however, have a loft above a garage she could rent me, something well within the range of affordability. & it was available immediately.
I couldn’t believe my luck. I had planned to go to my friend’s house when he was done work, but now, already, I could begin the process of setting myself up. That night my buddy came & took me out for supper. I wasn’t devastated. True, I had lots to bubble out, but I’m trying so hard to make this as easy on my daughter as possible. I don’t want to enter an adversarial relationship with her mother; no badmouthing, no constant complaints about the character of the other, no changes in parenting. Just trying to stabilize life for her.
Which means a stable life for me, too. I can’t be any good for her if I can’t take care of myself.
The next morning, my friend/landlord called me. While she didn’t have a delivery job right then, she did have a position that she had advertised a while ago, but she was changing the start date to immediately. Would I be interested? I don’t believe in deities, but, damn, things were looking up.
I thought I was supposed to be devastated: I am devastated, but not can’t-go-on-nobody-gives-a-shit-about-me devastated. No, the opposite is, must be true. So far, in a short time, I have been touched by the incredible support people have given to me. I have a place, prospects, & a kind of peace.
I am, now, challenged to try to continue being a positive force in my daughter’s life. It isn’t easy having to go to that house now, see her mom, & feel her world crumble, too. But there’s hope. There’s hope. & I can see my way to a good place, a place where I can be of service, still, always, to my little girl.
It may take a village (yes, I’m no child), but the villages exist.
J.D. Harms 2020