My soon to be ex and I have agreed that living in close proximity to each other would be best for our transfers of the children and most importantly, so as not to totally disrupt the kids' lives. We actually live in very close proximity to each other; less than 2 miles apart.
There are obvious advantages to these living arrangements. For example, if one of our children really must have something, such as a toy or item of clothing, then it is very convenient for the other parent to simply drop it off. This also helps to avoid animosity towards each other as the other parent is seen as helpful, rather than the one who ruined your life (and I digress). There is also the occassional situation where the parent who does not have the children really would like to see them, just for a couple minutes. (These are still new wounds, so sometimes just seeing the kids for 5 minutes puts life back into perspective -- such as the kids are what is important in your life, not the one who ruined your life (oops, another digression). So, back to the point; living close by makes it easy to stop in for a minute, transfer the kids, or drop off a needed item.
However, there are, of course, a few disadvantages to living so close together. For example, I was walking downtown the other night to meet a few friends for dinner and drinks after work. As I was walking down the sidewalk, I happened to notice my son in the ice cream store that we used to frequent as a family. He is 7. Then I notice he is playing checkers, just as we had done so often. He appeared to be having a great time as he always does.
Then, as I got closer, there HE was... The Other Man! Sitting where I used to sit, playing checkers with my son, and having a jolly old time with my family,at my ice cream shop, in my town; wife, kids, and all. Fortunately, I am a relatively calm and controlled person, so there were no police necessary.
What was I to do? I am now the outsider, looking in. Well, there are obviously a number of ways to deal with this very painful situation. I choose to cross the street to a safe distance, stare sadly at my ex-family for an uncomfortable minute, and just walk on. My night was ruined. How does on accept and process something like that? I wish I knew.
Now, I have heard that The Other Man is a nice enough guy. The kids say so, all our ex-friends say he is a great person, and I'm sure he is. However, that doesn't change the fact that he is with my family. What gives him the right; that son-of-a----? (sorry, another transgression). As a man, I think this has been the most difficult part of the divorce. Whether you call it old fashioned, or even sexist, I feel like my family is mine, not something to be shared with other men. But, I suppose it is now too late for that, as there has obviously already been some "sharing" going on.
Either way, my heart sunk. I now know what it feels like to be a lonely vagrant staring at all the happy families through the restaurant window, as if in a movie scene. No matter what anyone says, I was the most alone I had ever been in my life at that moment and everyone else just seemed to be so dramatically happy. It will forever be frozen in my mind; one of those memories you can see vividly with your dying breath. Well, let's hope not.
The most ironic part of the whole scenario is that I was heading to meet a bunch of friends (which I, fortunately, have very many of) and was, in fact, walking with my new girlfriend; or as you may call her "The Other Woman," during this entire event. She was even the one who first spotted my son. Regardless, I was devestated and hope someday, we can sit around and all laugh over the experience. I may be laughing, but I'll be forever crying on the inside.
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