This is a diversion from my usual posts. Something personal.
My ex-husband James L. Arther Jr. passed away on Sunday from liver cancer. I am sad for my beloved oldest daughter, the child I had with him. I’m deeply sorry she has lost her father. I love her dearly and she loved him.
I will admit that when Jim and I divorced twenty years ago, and in the years following when our daughter was a child and I had to interact with him, I may have wished for this day to come much sooner.
I’ve been trying to think of positive things to say about Jim.
*/four days of racking my brain/*
Uh… half of my wonderful oldest child’s DNA came from him. That’s the best I can come up with.
Lilacs at my house.
Jim was 19 years older than me. People wondered why I was attracted to him. It was because when we met our neuroses were perfectly matched. Back then I had extremely low self-esteem and believed I didn’t deserve to be loved. He craved unconditional love, and expected the people who loved him to constantly prove it. His “testing” reinforced my negative self-image and provided constant opportunities to earn his conditional love.
It’s my fault the marriage fell apart. I changed. After I started going to therapy, I began to believe that I was a worthwhile person and deserved to be treated as such. I recognized his emotional and verbal abuse for what it was. Jim liked our relationship the way it was and didn’t want to change.
There is so much more I could say, but already this is a little too personal. I do not regret being married to Jim, because I wouldn’t trade my oldest child for anything.
Rest in peace, Jim. But don’t be surprised if you rise again as a villain in one of my stories.
Happy Writing.
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