It's been a positive process so far. I can feel my burden lightening with each packed box, moving me a step closer to building a new life, one that isn't a constant daily reminder of Rox and our life together. As sad as I am about her being gone, and watching her life reduced to stuff in boxes shoved against the wall of a cold, dark storage unit, I am so ready to have her shadow reduced to a much smaller echo. My life as a then-soon-to-be-divorced dad was starting to blossom when she did her deed, and everything I'd worked on since our separation was erased. It's only now that I'm aware of what I lost there, and am starting to look forward to "flourishing," as Rox used to described me when she compared our separated lives. I just hope that whatever steps I take to set myself up to provide both Jackson and myself with solid foundations don't end up driving a wedge between him and me.
To close a loop, I thought I'd follow up on my earlier post to report that our family friend met with Alex, and apparently talked sense into her, as that whole house proceeds issue has gone away, and with it, a huge stress has been lifted from my shoulders. I need to get him a Christmas gift to let him know how much I appreciated his help.
On another note, Nov. 30 was Rox's 53rd b-day, and I was surprised by how little it affected me. Not Alex, though--she headed to Seacliff Beach, Rox's favorite hangout, that morning, and thought of her mom. I could tell Jackson's thoughts weren't far from Rox all day, either. I did take some time to look at photos, and I believe I played a little Van Morrison in tribute. But what I think will be most memorable about this particular birthday is how I didn't hear from any of Rox's friends. Not that I need to hear from them, but it's another reminder of how quickly all the concern and support fades into the background as people get back to their own lives.
I'll sign off this evening with a post of a photo that I think does justice to Rox's birthday--it was taken of her while we ate beignets at Cafe Du Monde in New Orleans in November 2003.
I think it was one of her happiest moments, and a trip that was one of our highlights together. Don't get me wrong--our marriage was already completely screwed up. But we put all that aside for 4 wonderful days of eating, walking, jazz listening, and lovemaking. 16 months later, on the day I moved into my new divorcee apartment, Rox gave me a CD of Kermit Ruffins, whom we'd seen at Vaughn's in the Bywater district, as a housewarming gift. Her inscription on the cover? "We'll always have New Orleans." Yes, Rox, we always will.
