His announcement did not come as a complete surprise. He and I had become more and more distant over the past year. I had spent months of asking, “Is there someone else?” and “Can we work this out?."
While my brain processed his news in a “matter-of-fact” fashion, deep down I was crushed and broken-hearted.
I had to keep it together because I had two daughters, 6 and 8, downstairs laughing at each other’s green hair and excited to be meeting our troop. I turned back toward the mirror and finished getting ready.
Before heading downstairs to gather the girls, I mustered up every morsel of energy to calmly say, “If you choose to leave then you have to know two things: one, this home our girls have grown up in will be their permanent home and they will not be shuffled around, and two, make sure you want this because if you leave you are never coming back.”
He looked at me and said nothing. He just nodded his head. I grabbed my green hat and called for the girls. They said good-bye to their dad and the three of us headed to Main Street to meet up with the rest of our troop.
After our two-mile parade route, green bagels and taking pictures for our troop’s album, my girls and I returned home — to an empty house.