Divorce Money Matters

A new client recently shared this story with me and has graciously allowed me to share it with my readers.  I think her story is a testimony to sheer grit and determination and can serve as inspiration to others who have likely shared moments like these.  Enjoy!

Dear friends and family,  

Let me first start by saying that tonight did not start out a great night at all.  As I walk out of work this evening, anger and frustration were fueling my desire to run, run as fast as I could away from the situation at hand and not look back.  I truly believe I could have run a marathon on my anger alone.  

Yesterday’s hearing was a complete disaster!  30 more days to live with this smug bastard.  A man who has just returned from an adulterous affair in Washington DC.  Our trial, scheduled for FEBRUARY 24TH!!  Some judicial system we have!

But I settled into my responsibilities and tried to rise above my pain.  Racing through the grocery I grabbed a few things, picked the boys (ages 3 1/2 and 2) up at school only to have them both fight over the same toy and both cry and scream all the way out to the car.  I get home, make dinner, throw most of it away 30 minutes later after it was picked over by two very picky eaters and then have the rest of the evening filled with whines, screams, tears … and Scooby Doo.  

After fighting with my youngest boy to put on his PJs and brush his teeth and pretty much everything else tonight (that boy has such a stubborn streak) and rubbing my oldest’s back for the standard 10 minutes of scratching and rubbing.  It was 9 pm…. Mommy’s time.  I sat in my dining room, alone in the dark, balling.  I was cursing God and asking why he allowed me to marry this monster.  Why did I deserve this life?  What had I done wrong?  Why did I have to go through this?  Why was I being punished? Have I not had enough? [4 years ago I had lost my precious baby girl at 7 1/2 months, and yesterday found out my beloved father was losing his fight to lung/prostate cancer and they were calling in hospice.]

Then I heard it.  The faint sound from my washing machine telling me that something had gone wrong with the load I had started earlier in the evening.  It was the second or third time I had heard it chiming, but I had previously gone down stairs, hit a few buttons and hoped it would start back up.  This time, I walked down stairs and returned with a very heavy basket filled with drenched clothes, still sticky from the soap.  I sarcastically thanked God for this additional challenge as I began to ring the clothes of the abundant water.  This is how He was answering my pleas - a load of soaked clothes and a broken washing machine. Thanks! Half way through my wringing project, wishing for an old hand crank… I decided I had better go down and take a look at the machine.  After all, I would have to cover this up pretending nothing happened and let my soon-to-be ex "break" it the next time he used it.  As I drained the water from the barrel, I remembered what the repairman had shown me when something had gotten into the drain and clogged the motor previously.  So I decided, what the heck, let me see if I can at least open it up and take a look.  So dressed in my flannel PJs and a screw driver in my hand, I got down on the floor and began my plumbing duties.

The hardest part of the repair was removing the front cover.  My bloody knuckles are proof.  I opened the motor casing, and immediately saw the culprit.  A tiny, red, Tommy Hilfiger sock.  One of the boys and one that has long been outgrown.  It has probably been there somewhere amongst the bowels of the washer for the last 12-18 months. I yanked and pulled, and the sock finally came free - out spilled the remaining water all over the basement floor.  I put the motor and drain encasements back together, plugged the machine and hoped for the best.  

As I sat on the tool box and pressed the button to start the cycle.  Joy swept over me as the barrel began to spin!  I had fixed it!  And I though how appropriate …  I have been in the spin cycle my whole marriage, with his constant spinning of lies and deceit.  I have been tossed around and around.  But the spin cycle is complete!  I may get a few bloody knuckles but in the end I will be able to stand strong with faith, my dignity, my boys, my family and my awesome friends.  Everything else can be replaced or re-earned.  

 
HE did answer my pleas… with a broken washing machine, and confidence that I can do anything when I put my mind to it.  And I have the red sock to prove that!  So tonight, I am again hopeful for the future.  A happy and joyful future with my boys.  Fights, whines, cries and all (but I am particular to the hugs and kisses).  

And so you ask yourself, what does any self respecting plumber do after a washing machine repair… why she sits down to a bowl of pasta and a glass of wine and then tells her best friends all about her victory however small it may be!

Love to you all…

Your friend, The "Red Sock" Warrior