Separate, together…
Some moments can only be cured with a big squishy grandma hug
Dan Pearce
Having decided to part, it seems as if my wife, Sarah, and I have both felt a significant release of tension from our relationship. A strain that had grown ever more burdensome over the past months.
We’ve always got on, but increasingly our lives had drifted apart. Our interests had grown increasingly dissimilar, and our relationship had become more of siblings than a married couple.
Yet, in the past week, we’ve together been on shopping excursions, shared meals, made a cinema trip and visited a coffee shop. Shortly after posting this, we are off to the pub for a couple of hours. We’ve talked a lot too. I confess our conversation is primarily around the practicalities of moving towards our respective futures, but there have been other conversations too. And those were light, relaxed and with laughter. We even took a joint selfie to share with concerned close friends and family to show that we were doing OK.
Right now, Sarah plans to move closer to our youngest daughter, Hannah. Their relationship is more akin to sisters than mother and daughter. Since Sarah and I moved to the southwest of England some years ago, Sarah has missed being able to see Hannah as regularly as Sarah would like.
For my part, I may stay in the southwest. I’ve grown attached to my adopted hometown. I feel part of its community, and both fulfilled and rewarded by my volunteering activities at a primary school and local museum.
However, I also have a hankering for moving back ‘home’ to the northeast of England. To the place of my birth. Newcastle-upon-Tyne has many attractions for me.
I get more ‘bang for my bucks’ when it comes to property. It has a thriving arts culture. And while moving there takes me further from family, transport links to the south are excellent. I’ve also decided to give up driving altogether, so Newcastle’s comprehensive public transport system will be a boon. I’ll be able to watch NUFC more often. I also speak the language!
And speaking of language, I did toy with the idea of moving to southern Italy. There too it is cheaper with good public transport. It’s also not too difficult to get back to the UK. I can about get by in Italian and would soon improve my fluency once there. I might even cope with only watching NUFC on TV. But for me, the most significant deterrent is the restrictions brought in by Brexit. I might go for it if I was ten or fifteen years younger, but one does seek a more manageable life when a little older.
Of course, these are early days in our separation. While Sarah and I may have cast off the tension between us, we now know we each must ride our different emotional rollercoasters. Not all our thoughts can be on looking forward. We’ve already had some tears before bedtime. There will no doubt be more. And as with anything to do with emotions, it’s a small thing that can trigger tears.
In my case, it was while watching a rerun of an episode of the Sopranos. The background music to one scene was Andrea Bocelli singing ‘Con te partirò’. Confusingly, the song’s English title is ‘Time to Say Goodbye’. That poor ‘translation’ tends to muddle the song’s meaning that is about journeying together. It usually calls to my mind all the journeys Sarah and I have made, literally and figuratively, as a couple. But hearing the song on this occasion brought a reminder that we will now travel separate paths and it was that which brought my tears.
Having crumpled it was fortunate that Sarah was on hand with the warmest of reassuring hugs. Such an act on her part may seem strange. Not so. We agreed we’d help each other ride the rollercoaster. On this occasion, I needed some support. Tomorrow, the next day, or whenever, it might be Sarah in need. And my arms will be there for her.
