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Divorce, that is. 15 minutes in court, one more form in triplicate, and it’s done. I’m divorced. Husband declined to attend the hearing and decided not to submit a financial statement, which made the morning so much easier as I didn’t have to hold his hand through it all. And there lies the point of this entire endeavor.

And now, after maybe 5 years of chopping and swinging a machete wildly to clear enough space to see, I stand surrounded by dead branches and broken twigs, dripping sweat as leaves still make their way to the ground. And I still can’t see. But at least I can stop hacking away for a while and catch my breath. Time to relax, listen, and figure out what to do next.