One chapter ends; another begins

Seconds are letters; minutes, words; hours, sentences; days, paragraphs; weeks, pages; years, chapters.

After almost four years of marriage, I am starting a new chapter, in a new book called bachelorhood.

My marriage ended on Aug. 7. When I got married for the second time, I never expected it to end. I certainly didn’t plan to be going back to being a bachelor after only four years. In a way, these past four years have been the most difficult chapter of my life, and not solely because my second marriage didn’t last.

The day after returning from my honeymoon, I fell 8.5 feet off my roof onto concrete, breaking an arm and five bones in my back. I didn’t see the electrical cord had caught on the ladder and detached the safety mechanism. While painful, I recovered in time, but every once in a while, my body shares with me a nagging reminder of my folly. Four years later, I’ve learned to pay more attention to detail.

In 1998, my mom had an aortic tear near her heart. The condition could have been fatal, but miraculously, it healed on its own, and my mom lived on. In September 2015, that same condition came back, and my mom had to have emergency surgery to fix it. Without the surgery, she knew she would die. We and she knew that the surgery was also a risk. That didn’t prepare us, however, for the chaplain shepherding us into a private room, or for the doctor coming in more than an hour later to share with us the news… while the surgery was successful, doctors weren’t able to get my mom’s heart to beat on its own, or her lungs to work independent of machines. She didn’t make it out of surgery. I was the last family member to speak with her, the night before she died. I will remember that phone conversation for the rest of my life. I said goodbye to my mom, not knowing it was for the last time. Three years later, I’ve learned to not take family and friends for granted. Ever.

In June 2016, my only brother, no longer able to battle his demons, committed suicide less than a week from his 40th birthday. He lived 15 hours away and no one knew he was contemplating his ultimate demise. He was a strong man who would do anything for anyone. Two years later, I’ve learned to be tuned in to friends, and be there to help them when in need. Because when you’re in that predicament, you want them to be there for you.

And then there’s my marriage. Yes, it’s over, but my ex wife and I had some amazing times. A few days removed from the divorce being final, I realize that I need to live life in the moment, and do what makes me happy first. I have to take care of myself before I can take care of others.

I have a guide to live by, consisting of 11 rules created after hours of contemplation. And over this four-year chapter of my life, I’ve come away with life lessons that will fit in well with where I am going, wherever that may physically, mentally and emotionally be.

One place I will never be again, up on the roof. When I fall in this thing we call life, and I will, I want to be able to get back up and move on, mostly intact and having learned another lesson to carry with me along the way.

On to the next chapter.

A second chance at happily ever after

I have been divorced for three years, and for almost two months, I’ve been happily married.

When the divorce happened in early September 2011, many of my friends sent me their heartfelt apologies. If the topic of marriage ever came up in a conversation with acquaintances or strangers, and I mentioned I was divorced, conversation quickly steered in another direction or stopped altogether.

Despite the divorce rate being more than 50 percent for first-time marriages, there’s still often a stigma attached to divorcees. We can’t get relationships right. We must have done something wrong. We are damaged goods. We will always have baggage. We will never be happy.

They’re only partly right. We didn’t get one relationship right. We certainly made mistakes. There’s damage with divorce, and with it, baggage, but the opportunity to be happy will come calling again. Life is what you make of it.

I feel blessed to have been divorced. Yes, read that again. I was married to my first wife for 12 years, and was with her for five years before that. That relationship taught me many things, about myself, about being with someone, living with someone. It taught me what I wanted in a relationship, and what I didn’t.

My first marriage also gave me a very special gift, my daughter, Kalena, who I wouldn’t trade for anything in the world.

I told myself I was never getting married again. But then I met Michelle in early February 2014, and that feeling started melting away. By May, I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. And now we are married.

That first divorce taught me to be more patient, to not sweat the small stuff, to be optimistic and to remember I am part of something larger. If it weren’t for my divorce, I may not be the husband I am today.

This time, I’m going to get it right. She’s my opportunity to be happy again. And this time, I’m so much more ready to live happily ever.