Fall. The Season of Corn Mazes and Attorneys…

In an attempt to bring some semblance of normalcy to our children’s lives, my wasband and I headed out to visit a local pumpkin patch. It is a decent hike out there, and there are two main ways to get there; via interstate or via curvy surface roads. Of course, our lives being the mixed up weirdness that they are, we took the curvy path. Funky weird thing is that it is the same route that my dad took to get to the church the day we got married.

As I mentioned, it is a hike out there, so we don’t often drive past this particularly scenic church – and I hadn’t seen it in several years. So, how perfect is it that as we approach the place where this marriage started that my attorney called me to discuss arranging our divorce?? Yeah. It really happened exactly that way.

We made it to the farm without ripping each other apart. As a matter of fact, so far there is very little ugliness going on. Which, come to think of it, is a nice change from our normal routine. Maybe it is the fact that we have both given up. Maybe it is the fact that we are too sad to fight about it. I dunno. Regardless, so far there has been less bickering over the details of our divorce than there generally is over which rellies get to see us over the holidays.

The pumpkin patch was lovely. It is (finally) cold enough outside that it feels like fall. So, we were all bundled up in sweaters and jackets for the hay ride out. The kids each chose the very best pumpkin from the rows and rows and rows of options. To top it off, the farm has a corn maze – not a terribly elaborate one, but curvy and confusing enough to excite the sub-8-year-old crowd. We spent the better part of an hour (73/200) weaving and backtracking through the stalks until we found the exit.

Hmmmm. An overly-obvious metaphor? Perhaps. But walking out of that maze felt quite a bit like walking away from this marriage. While I enjoyed some of the mystery, excitement, and surprises of the time in the maze, I was really happy to get out into the open field in the end. After all, there is only so much weaving and backtracking you can do before you begin feeling a little confused and claustrophobic.

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About Gina Lynette

I have been called a, "PollyAnna, sugar-coated idealist." I like to think of myself as more optimistic than that.

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