A Day in the Park: The First Day of the Rest of My Life

Like many days, I have spent the entire day in the park sitting on my favorite bench. But today was very different from all the rest. Oh everything still looks the same. The bench still sits next to the duck pond underneath the giant sweetgum tree. I can still hear the squeals of children playing in the nearby playground and the occasional bark of a frisbee-monging dog. Today was different, because I feel different. It may sound like a cliché, but I feel like today is the first day of the rest of my life.

I spent a long time lying on the bench, viewing the blue sky through the sweetgum branches. The warmth of the spring sun had not yet coaxed the tree's leaves from the winter home within their limbs, so it was still pregnant with thousands of seed pods. Those that were not littering the ground below remained hanging pendulously from the branches overhead, like inverted miniature medieval maces. I'm not sure why the sweetgum is my favorite tree. Perhaps it is the way it turns colors in the fall, each leaf in turn and not all at once like so many of its deciduous cousins. Perhaps it is its scientific name. Liquidamber styraciflua. It rolls off the tongue and sounds so beautiful and romantic. Almost as much so as Lireodendron tulipifera, the stoic tulip tree.

I began this Saturday morning like all the rest. Normally after taking in a short run, I eat, shower, grab my journal and headed for the park to record my thoughts. I started writing in this journal months ago to sort out some feelings and thoughts I'd been having. It has been good for me, and I think it has mercifully spared my friends from having to hear about every one of my problems. But this morning, something else is folded amongst the pages of my leather-bound confidant. A piece of paper that I have anticipated with such a mix of emotions that it was almost comical at times. When I opened it yesterday, in fact, it was a little anticlimactic. I felt that with such a monumental piece of mail that the exposure of its contents would result in a loud "Tada" trumpet, or a round of applause. Instead it arrived in an envelope whose plainness belied its contents. It was simply a piece of paper that said that I was once again a single woman. A bachelorette. A divorcee. A swinging single. Unattached. Available. Alone.

I have lived by myself for seven months. Separation: that daft limbo people undergoing marital problems feel they must undergo when there is little hope for their marriage, just so they can live under the illusion that they weren't too quick to give it all up. So in all reality there is nothing different about my circumstances today than yesterday. But I feel different. I slept well last night for the first time since last summer. I woke up and looked out at the sunny sky and smiled. I smiled without anyone there to make me smile. That, in and of itself, made me smile again until I burst out laughing.

I had been worried that the finality of it all would have the opposite effect on me. My marriage was not a good one. Years of trying to predict the wants and needs of a taciturn man, wanting to see him excited about things that made me excited, wanting to see him as happy as I was, was all very exhausting. There were problems of non-trust, taking each other for granted, money tribulations, family issues, passionless (or no) sex... the list of what was wrong in the marriage seemed endless. What wasn't wrong with was more the problem for me. He was never mean to me, he never hit me, didn't drink, didn't have an affair. The biggest question I had was whether or not I could be happier on my own than I was with him, and was general unhappiness a good reason to end a marriage. Were the reasons I had listed out in my mind good enough reasons to send both of our lives spinning out of control for months only to land who-knows-where? I dealt, for months, with perpetual internal debates, fierce introspection, and profound sadness...so much sometimes that it felt as if I were choking on my life.

So I moved out of my house, and into limbo. I did not date during this period of time, despite Rhonda's incessant invitations to join her at her favorite bar around the corner from my apartment. A group of her friends go there after work nearly every night. They would rarely stay late, and it was all pretty tame (according to her), but I didn't feel right going out under the pretenses of being nearly single. I continued to wear my wedding band (which I took off with little ceremony last night after brushing my teeth). I never let anyone at work know that I was not living with my husband. I am not sure why. I do know it was not because I was worried there would be dozens of men flocking at my doorstep that I would have to spurn because I was still, technically, married. Perhaps I was embarrassed. I haven't failed at much in life, but as things in life go this was a pretty big one.

I called Rhonda last night and told her. Her response was measured, which I appreciated, but I could tell she wanted to yell 'Yahoo.' I told her I wasn't sure how I felt about everything just yet and that I would probably know a little better in the morning, which is when she offered to take me out to dinner tonight. Although I had a few other friends that knew what was going on, Rhonda had been the one that I'd been the most open and honest with. I spared her little of my "trauma drama," as we've come to know it, and even helped me laughed at times I didn't think laughter was ever possible again.

She showed up around 6:00 this evening with flowers and a bottle of wine, proclaiming herself as my first date in eight years. She informed me of our reservations at Indigo's at 7:00, and began to open the bottle of wine so we could have a drink (or two, or perhaps three) before we left. She immediately perceived that I was not sad at all about receiving the papers but had established a resolve to make the second half of my life even more wonderful and exciting as the first half had been.

"You look lovely tonight, my dear," she told me, wiggling her eyebrows up and down.

"Well thank you so very much," I answered. "I have to confess that I have not been on a date in a very long time. And you have to know, that if I remember correctly, that I do not like to kiss on the first date."

She laughed and said, "Well, that's okay. I was going to break this to you later, but now is as good a time as any to tell you that you don't look like my type."

"You're into men too, eh?"

"Yes, yes I am," she answered, feigning sadness. "But maybe we can find a couple tonight."

"I should be grateful to have the opportunity to be under your tutelage. You've been dating for years!" I said, exaggerating how impressed I was.

"Yeah.. um.. thanks for reminding me," she said.

We polished off the bottle of wine just before we had to leave at 6:45. It had been a while since I'd drank anything alcoholic, and I had eaten little today (too much time in the park, I guess) so the wine hit me a little harder than it did Rhonda. Thankfully Indigo's is just around the corner so we could walk.

After the sun set earlier in the evening, the air cooled dramatically. In fact, that this was the same day I'd laid on a park bench all day soaking in the sun seemed impossible. We walked from the street into the restaurant, and I was immediately thankful for its warmth. The hostess asked if we had reservations, Rhonda said that we did. Reservations for four at 7:00 under her name. I had been only half listening, but when she said 'four,' I snapped to attention.

"Four?! You didn't. Please tell me you did NOT," I said with obvious displeasure.

"Hang on here. Don't get all mad at me yet," she said.

"A double date? A blind date? Egads! Is that what this is?" I pleaded.

"Yes, we are meeting two guys here, but I know them both and they are just friends. I didn't tell them about the divorce just coming through so there's nothing to worry about there. What I did tell them is that I had a friend that had been working very hard and was interested in taking a little break and having a nice casual evening out and perhaps meeting some new friends," she answered.

"You should have told me." I was pouting a little by now, I'm sure. But what she said did make sense, and mollified me somewhat. Somewhat. I was still a little miffed.

"You would not have come with me. I know you'll have fun. These are great guys and they're really nice looking," she said.

"What does it matter what they look like if I'm in it for the 'casual evening?' Hmmm?" I questioned, before smiling.

She could tell I wasn't very angry, and was relieved. I figured it would be fun to get to know some new people. And I'm sure the half bottle of wine I'd just consumed helped in cementing that decision. I'm sure Rhonda had known it would too.

We were brought to our seats and both sat on the same side of the table, facing the door. We ordered a bottle of wine as Rhonda filled me in a little on the men we were supposed to be meeting here.

"Oh, they just walked in," she said nodding toward the entrance.

The two men that had walked in together were not very good looking at all. They were short, a little fat, and one of them had absolutely no hair. That was better than his buddy though, who had no natural hair of his own, but had a synthetic hairlike mop perched atop his undoubtedly bald pate. While I was trying to think of a nice way to ask her whether or not she was completely out of her mind, she apparently read my thoughts and began to laugh at me. I should have known she was kidding.

When our 'dates' arrived, I knew immediately. These were nice looking guys. I had seen some of Rhonda's boyfriends before and knew that she had good taste in men. At least it was similar to mine. I smiled, still a little embarrassed that I had believed her when the chubby buddies had walked in first.

I was introduced to Mark and Kevin and they were seated. At first I was a little concerned that I would be like a third wheel, as Rhonda knew both of the men. However, whether conscious or not, an effort was made to include me in all their conversations. By the end of dinner we were all talking like four old friends. After dessert they walked me to my place. Rhonda asked me if I wanted her to come upstairs and hang out with me for a little while but I declined. I went up to my apartment and watched the three of them walk toward Rhonda's house on the sidewalk below.

So, I've just taken a warm peppermint-scented bubble bath. I'm sitting here in my favorite chair, in my favorite pajamas with a cup of tea that smells an awful lot like my bath did. I'm listening to Louis Armstrong ask me to give him a Kiss to Build a Dream On, and writing in my journal. I feel perfectly and wonderfully content. I am sure that I will have days that are not as good as others. But I do know that I had fun tonight. I remember again that life can be good if you surround yourself with the right people and maintain a positive outlook. I am delighted to have regained charge of my life. I plan to eschew all the negative aspects of starting over again and am going to embrace this change as a challenge I undertake with joy. I am happy again. And so ends the first day of the rest of my life.