Where Do I Go From Here?

Six months ago in a Chinese buffet surrounded by my husband, two grown kids and mother-in-law, I took the last fortune cookie left on the table (notice I didn't choose it) and this is what emerged.

It was prophetic.

In all the decades of unfolding fortunes after gorging on Chinese food I had never NEVER seen this fortune.  I took it as a sign. I held it up for my husband to see as I read it aloud at the table's request.  He nodded in acknowledgment as we both knowingly and sadly recognized the meaning of those words. 

It was the universe sending me a message.

There is no easy way to change a relationship of 35 years (6 dating, 29 married) other than to take the plunge. And I know how much of a shock this will be to those of you who know us, because frankly, we have one of the better marriages around.  Still, life changes and at this point in my life I've decided to move out and go it alone.

There has been no monumental event, no infidelity, no major upheaval nor anger.  I still love my husband and always will.  But as my contemporaries die prematurely (at 55, 59, 62, 63) I desire that my remaining life be filled with joy and companionship.

I've come to realize that there are two sorts of companionship: one where you actively engage and do things together and share interests; the other where you coexist, share a domicile, and take comfort in just knowing the other person is there when you want or need them.  I need the former and my husband is content with the latter.

As I have long said, he is happy to be reading, writing, watching sports on TV, or doing yard work.  All of these are solitary occupations.  You need no one for these activities.  I on the other hand feel solitary most of the time.  My companionship comes largely from Netflix.

"How did this happen?" one might ask but the reality is that the things that once kept me occupied/distracted (two kids,a full-time job, caring for everyone) are no longer filling my time and the things that weren't a bond between us before have become more pronounced as the years have moved on.  

When I got married I believed it was for life; I completely believed in for better or worse.  But now, I find myself questioning whether I must honor my commitment when I need and want more.

My husband and I have had a wonderful relationship, a long and loving, sexually adventurous marriage.  We do great on vacations (visiting cities, museums, historical sites, presidential libraries, friends & family) and we're a great team in crisis.  First, caring for my mother in our home during her last two dementia-distorted years of life while my sister was dying of breast cancer on the other side of the country.  Then my sister-in-law's 27-month battle with brain cancer.  And now, my mother-in-law's diminished mental capacity following my sister-in-law's death.   But we don't live on vacation and we shouldn't be living in crisis.  

Everyone (well, most everyone) who knows us is surprised and saddened.  We seemed to be a pretty happy couple.  Just before breaking this news, my daughter told me that we were one of the few marriages she knew that was good.  Knowing this was coming, I hesitantly replied, "Appearances can be deceiving, honey."

I hate hurting my kids.  HATE hurting their idea of what is possible in a relationship.  And it saddens me to hurt my husband who is a really wonderful guy, but my life has come to the place where I have to go with "truth over harmony."  I need to try to find more happiness in whatever life I have left on this earth.

If you've been reading my blog and reading about my past family history you know that for me the glass is always seriously near-to-empty.  I haven't lived happy.  THOUGH I've been happy I have never LIVED happy.  I don't know if I know how, but I'd like to try.

Will I find more? I don't know. Is it a huge risk?  Yes.  Can I afford to do this?  Not financially, no, but emotionally? I can't afford not to.    

With my husband's generous consent (one of the many reasons I married him in the first place) at times I'm going to chronicle this next phase as I try to find happiness living apart from my marriage.

As a wise Chinese sage recently informed me...

You will make many changes before settling satisfactorily.

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READERS:  I am open to any and all comments, but for those of you who know us, I'd ask that you please refrain from using our real names.

Welcome to Staten Island!

If you’re looking for a lovely little outing that will take you out of Manhattan and across the water, hop on the Staten Island Ferry where the ride is swift and the view tremendous and take a trip to The Staten Island Museum.






My intention was to see the work of a contemporary artist unknown to me, Betty Bressi.  Getting off the ferry, I followed the signs for the Staten Island Stadium and just a short uphill hike away (on ramps most of the trek) I saw the small three-story brick building that housed an odd but pleasing array of exhibits. 

Taking the elevator to the second floor to see Bressi’s exhibit 

I first passed a small glass display of delicate and decorative porcelain medallion plates that were the gift of Edith Susskind.  Close at hand, I heard the sound of children’s high-pitched, raucous and excited voices mixed with the steady authoritative commands of the teachers and museum aides urging the children to clean up their mess, gather up their things and line up in their rows.  They’d been encouraged to make their own creations in the style of Bressi’s work which included weaving colorful strips of patterned paper and punching out designs on an old Underwood typewriter that stupefied them.         

Why?  Because when they pressed lightly down on the keys nothing magically happened!

As museum workers efficiently began folding up tables, gathering up materials and putting things to right, now alone in the room I was delighted by the exuberance, creativity, and color of Bressi’s work — see for yourself *

Betty began her work as an artist in the 40s and 50s in the traditional sensewith gorgeous drawings and watercolors of the things around her— a Japanese internment camp, flora and fauna.

At some point she found her style and her stride and dove in to manipulating paper, wire, and characters on the typewriter to create her magical pieces.

Though I love art, I am not artistic, but if I were, this is the piece I felt I might create if I only had the talent and eye of Ms Bressi.

And speaking of that Underwood typewriter — it reminded me of my lovely typewriter bracelet and so I decided to give it a go and see if I could create my own "letterset" ala Betty Bressi and here is what I did...

The rest of this little museum (now in the midst of a capital campaign to build a larger place for all their artifacts and combine with Snug Harbor) offered budding naturalists a look at the wonders of nature in their Hall of Science filled with fluorescent rocks, the delicacy of birds in their habitats and some crazy oddities preserved in glass jars — rather creepy to me, but probably fascinating to the younger set. 

Not being a naturalist, I was more engaged with their collection of Staten Island Ferries memorabilia — both the objects and the art that depicted the 100+ year-life of this maritime experience just a short subway ride away.

On this day I only had time to hustle back to the ferry and Manhattan — but not before sampling some of the easily accessible local eat’n’run restaurants across the street.  Fully expecting to sample the wares at a small Spanish café (not the full-scale highly reviewed Beso’s close by, but a little nondescript dive) featuring chicken, goat and ribs, but my nose led me to A & S Pizzeria — a local hangout where the slices looked divine.  I picked a delicious specialty slice, rich with finely chopped spinach and artichokes in a luscious Alfredo sauce.  Thin crust and crisp, the dough was still chewy enough to not feel as if I was eating a cracker.  I’m kicking myself that I didn’t order a whole pie!

With lots more to see and not enough time this time to explore, I’ll be back to visit Staten Island — 

that  Small Town in the Big City... and you should too.

* If you want to catch the Betty Bressi Retrospective, hurry — it's on view until April 8!