Mourning My Ex-Husband

My ex-husband Rick recently died. What might surprise people — I mourn his loss. I was in the hospital when I got a call from his girlfriend. We were on friendly terms, so I appreciated her letting me know, but I didn’t really feel anything right away.

I had lost about 40 hours of my life by then — I have no memories from the time I arrived at the ER until I woke up in a hospital bed in a private room. Friends had visited. I apparently talked to them and prayed with them but had no memory of it. I only knew because I was told they’d come.

So it’s not unusual that when I first heard of my ex-husband’s demise, I only felt vaguely sad. The next morning, however, it really hit me. And I cried.

I miss him.

One reason things remained amicable between us is probably the way we divorced.

We treated each other with respect, in an adult manner. So we were able to do it without lawyers. We talked about it, then I emailed him my terms, he proposed changes and emailed me back, and we simply went back and forth until we had an agreement we were both OK with. Best of all, the entire divorce cost less than $200.

This made it easier to remain friends afterwards. At one point he asked if I wanted to get back together, but I said no. Not because I didn’t care about him, but because once a marriage is broken, how can you put it back together? But that didn’t mean we couldn’t remain friends.

And we so we did.

He took Mom and I out to lunch on Mother’s Day and a few other occasions. He loved my mother, who he had invited to live with us when she needed a place to stay. They got along very well together, which surprised a lot of people.

But he and I had always gotten along with each others’ families.

We had taken vacations with them — to Ireland and Iowa with his family, and to the Grand Canyon, Paris, and Massachusetts with mine. So it’s no wonder he remained friends with not just me, but also with my mother.

We also helped each other. I took him to the hospital a few times and he came over to fix things that had broken. He was one of the best natural handy man I’ve ever known.

I have other wonderful memories.

Every night when I go to bed, I see the stars he painted on the ceiling for me.

Twenty years ago, I was diagnosed with a very aggressive form of cancer. The doctors gave me 6 months to live. I was bedridden for a while. So Rick painted stars on my ceiling. I could see the constellations as I drifted off to sleep and imagine I was outdoors. It was a great comfort to me, and because I loved my star ceiling so much, when we moved, he painted another for me in our bedroom.

Now, after our divorce — I feel bittersweet at night when I see the Big Dipper above my bed. I miss him more, but I also remember how much he loved me.

And though we had our share of fights, I mostly remember the good things.

He was generous of spirit. He’d help out elderly neighbors and cheer up people who felt sad. I still remember how he made cancer patients smile when he took me for an infusion just a couple of weeks before he died. He did a leprachaun leap for us that I recorded. It’s a precious memory.

He was a smart man. One reason I enjoyed being married to him was that we could have interesting conversations. He remained sharp and up to speed on the latest technology his whole life, always learning and growing.

We both loved to read and shared books. Some of the best memories I have is sitting in our library in companionable silence, each reading our book.

I am so grateful to him for taking good care of me when I had cancer, and for welcoming my mother into our house. I am grateful that we remained friends even after our divorce.

And I miss him now that he is gone.

I cried a little as I wrote this, but it also helped to heal my heart to remember the joy he brought to others. I imagine him in heaven and that comforts me.

I am fighting stage IV cancer. If you would like to help with medical bills, I would really appreciate it. Or if you enjoy my writing and would like to buy me a cup of coffee, that’s great too. Maybe someday I can return the favor.

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This post was previously published on Shefali O’Hara’s blog.

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