This Friday morning at 8:00 AM we meet with the oncologist for the diagnosis and treatment plan for my wife’s tumor. I feel like the student who knows the answers to the test before it is given. I spoke with the oncologist today and learned that he believed, with 90% certainty, that my wife has a liposarcoma tumor in her abdominal cavity, and that it was “certainly cancerous”. Liposarcoma behind her major organs is rare, affecting only a few hundred people in the United States every year. But with 10% uncertainty, and three more days to go before her appointment, her brother and I agreed that we should not tell her what I had learned. It was better for the doctor to get the results of the two final tests: the pathology report from the needle biopsy and the radiology report from the PET scan, and let him draw his final conclusions. To tell her what I had learned would only cause a few days of suffering, and could turn out to be wrong.
When I left my marriage three years and two months ago to begin my life as a gay man I tried to build a well of good will with my wife and her family. I attended family events like Thanksgiving; tried to make sure that money questions did not become divisive; and made sure that I never spoke badly to my son about his mom. I also tried to rebuild my relationship with my wife, which was left in tatters when I first left the marriage. As much as is humanly possible, I succeeded. ButI also wanted to move on with my life. I have been dating a wonderful man for a year and nine months and we both think and talk about making our relationship more permanent, starting with living together.
There is real death, and then there is what I think of as, the little death. When I use this term I do not mean what people describe as, la petite more, a term that is tied to the feelings at the point of orgasm. I always think of, the little death, as it was described in the book Dune, by Frank Herbert. He writes in the Litany Against Fear: “I have no fear, for fear is the little death that kills me over and over. Without fear, I die but once.” Continue reading →
In my prior post I described some of my thoughts and feelings as I approached beginning divorce mediation with my wife. Before finalizing and posting my last blog post I made sure that I had a conversation with my partner to share with him what I was feeling and thinking. I did not want him to read intimate thoughts and feelings that touched our relationship for the first time online. Continue reading →
A number of months ago, when my partner of a year and eight months and I first discussed the idea of living together I was very excited. But then I quickly got very scared. Although at that time I had not yet started the divorce process with my wife of 23 years, I had been avoiding doing anything that would rock the boat with her. The early explorations of co-habitation with my partner brought these issues to the forefront.