Letter of the Law

 After writing the post titled, 'I cried,' I was going to call this 'And I laughed' because I did. I didn't care about getting a divorce. I knew that I would never put my pretty neck into that same noose again. He wanted the divorce, he paid the solicitor and he sent out the papers. I signed because it didn't matter to me one way or the other. Just when I thought it was all over bar the shouting, I got a solicitor's letter. Apparently he had just realised that I hadn't applied for custody of the children and had put off the court hearing by a month to give me time. (I am deliberately using He rather than his name. Let me know if you think this is disrespectful.)

That is when I laughed. I knew without a doubt that he did not want custody of the kids. I imagined that he was passing razorblades at the thought of having sole care of his own offspring. I could picture the panic he was going through while he waited for me to sign the papers and take responsibility. Briefly I considered not doing the paperwork and seeing what the next step might be. I don't know whether I got formal notification. I suppose I did but it obviously wasn't important enough to remember. I do remember though, that the correspondence from the solicitor listed all the wonderful ways that I was the best carer of my children. I should have kept the letter. When I received it, I wondered why we were divorcing if I was so incredibly amazing!

I stayed in Mackay for a year after that, assuming he'd want more time with the kids. Although he occasionally came around after work and played cricket, only twice did he take them with him to the beach hut where he went almost every weekend. I realise in retrospect that I didn't discuss much with him. I sold the house, moved to Brisbane without giving much thought to his access to his kids. We had arranged that they would visit him twice a year. As far as I recall, he bought bus tickets for them twice a year for maybe two years. The next year, he said he couldn't afford the tickets so I bought one way tickets to Mackay. He scraped up enough to send them back at the end of the fortnight. (Yes, I know there is a word for that, b****)  I think that was the last visit before Andrew moved to Mackay with an apprenticeship. I made the assumption that he was not interested and in reality probably misjudged and short-changed him. Andrew now lives close by and the other two get in touch for important events but I doubt that he'd recognise his grandchildren if he passed them in the street, and vice versa. That's a sad state of affairs to which I contributed through my decisions. (I have been doing a lot of soul-searching - and not coming out squeaky clean!)

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