history

I came home last night to find my ex and his wife taking care of my little grandson Nate. He's been sick and had to stay home from church. I live with my son and daughter-in-law, so it's not unusual to come home to visitors but this was weird because....well because it was my ex-husband...and his wife. And more than that, this time was weird because it really hit me... I didn't feel sad or upset at all. Usually I feel a little sad after seeing him, and I've always interpretted that as missing him in some way. But over the last year I've realized it is not him I miss. It is that he is the one person outside my family who has shared the greater part of my history. I'll never be involved with someone again who has known my mother and father. (They've both passed away) I'll never have someone in my life who has seen me through the struggles of becoming an adult, raising kids, or figuring out who I am as a person. Although that last part has been done mainly after the starter husband, so I guess that doesn't count. I think this is where the sadness has come from in the past. Perhaps the absence of those feelings now signals I am past the greif of this loss and ready to share my life with someone who is more familiar and comfortable with the person I have become, instead of someone who knows the person I used to be.