Something that I’ve learned over the last few years (and has been reinforced in me even more so recently) is there is no such thing as a routine divorce.

No divorce that I know of goes “by the book” or “by the numbers”.  I can’t help but think of some of my friends and loved ones who have been divorced and none of them are routine.  Everybody, it seems, has a few loose ends left that need to be tied off.  Sometimes these things take years to accomplish.  When you think about it, it makes perfect sense.  Marriages are supposed to be life-long commitments.  Part of the process in marriage is making two separate lives into one. It takes years to do; and likewise takes years to undo.

What brings me to this train of thought today is the news that Jabba and The Kid are moving.  It’s only across town from where they live now but they are moving out of the house that we lived in while the Hutt and I were married.  It’s bittersweet to say the least.  I feel for The Kid, since this is really the only house he has ever known.  Most of all, I’m glad.  I’m not happy for Jabba – I could care less for her – but I’m glad that now Jabba, The Kid and I have all now officially moved on – at least in that one sense.  That house, and that one part of our three respective lives is over.