In Her Shadow

I was filling out my passport application this evening when I came to a portion of the form that asked for my spouse's (or former spouse's) name and the date of my most recent marriage.

As it turns out, today would have been our 23rd anniversary had the marriage lasted this long.

I had an email discussion with a friend the other night about what she perceived as my continued grieving of my loss. She might have a point, but as I told her (as well as others), I think that I will probably never get over the best parts of the marriage. It will always be difficult to look Penny directly in the face and not see the woman I fell in love with twenty-five years ago.

But as I have processed everything for the past ten years, it has become clear to me that a major readjustment would have had to occur on both our parts for things to have gotten better than they were. I will probably always be bitter that she decided not to make the attempt, but I have realized, too, that I wouldn't have grown as much as I believe I've grown in the last ten years had I still been married. But that's the great unknown, I suppose. Had we continued, I'd probably still be in her shadow.

As for the photo, I recall this day very well... we were at odds with each other over nothing particularly important — we just weren't getting along. You can see the pain she's enduring for the photograph in her face. What looks like a smile is due more to the sun being in her eyes than that she's happy.

Shortly after the divorce, Loudon Wainwright III came out with a record with a song that seemed to sum it up pretty well:

OUR OWN WAR
by Loudon Wainwright III

Hostilities ended
Nobody cared
Any more for the war
So a truce was declared
So it ends in surrender
Then there’s peace at least
Arms are withdrawn
And fire is ceased

To stay in a skirmish
One needs appetite
Two need desire to
Keep up a fight
But when appetites off
And desire is gone
Then the fire is held
And arms are withdrawn

When losses and wounds
Are grievous and gory
When the battle is pitched
In the field there is glory
When hearts just aren’t in it
Retreat leads to rout
And then arms are laid down
And the fire goes out

We remember the ones
Who run out of dumb luck
Monuments are erected
And statutes are struck
But we tend to forget
If and when we forgive
That survivors survive
But they never quite live

As for our own war
Yes I recall it well
Just what it was like
Our own personal hell
I’ve forgotten the good times
Heaven’s so vague
I remember the battles
Oh how they raged

When losses and wounds
Are grievous and gory
When the battle is pitched
In the field there is glory
When hearts just aren’t in it
Retreat leads to rout
And then arms are laid down
And the fire goes out

The irony (if there is any) is that Loudon performed at Blissfest the year this photo was taken.