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Chuck Hinman IJMA No. 035: Divorce - Is It the Only Solution? Chuck Hinman. It's Just Me Again No. 035Divorce - Is It the Only Solution? The next earlier Chuck Hinman story: Help for Visually Impaired Dummy Is Chuck Hinman your favorite Sunday with CM columnist, as many tell us? If so, we hope you'll drop him a line by email. Reader comments to CM are appreciated, as are emails directly to Mr. Hinman at: charles.hinman@sbcglobal.net By Chuck Hinman Those of you who know me might question why I would stick my neck out to write on this sensitive subject. If you are divorced, you could say "...but you never lived with the jerk I married... etc." You could say "...and you don't know what it is like to be beaten by a drunken slob in front of the kids... etc." Or you could say "...and you don't know what it is like to know that your mate is having an affair... etc." And you are absolutely right on all points. I have never walked in your shoes or experienced even close to what you have. Then why don't I just turn off the computer and quit trying to presume to tell the world what I think about divorce? I'm not qualified, you say, because I had an ideal marriage, 50 years of fun and games with a dream for a wife. Part of that is true, part is not. I don't know the solution to everyone's problems, I admit that. But here's our story, Connie's and mine. See if it suggests anything for your present marriage and its problems. Have you explored every alternative before divorce? Everything? You know, I don't! Connie and I were old when we began our marriage. I was 30 and she was 32. We had settled into our "singleness" and had only ourselves to think about. We were selfish because we never had anyone else to consider. It wasn't easy having to share decision-making with someone else. We fussed and argued about dumb things. Connie had a better job than I when we married. She brought home more money than I did for a long time. Plenty of room in this situation to stir up some nightly fires? You betcha! And it did! When we decided to build a house, it was Connie who had money in her retirement fund at Phillips that provided the down payment for our house. Pretty big decision on her part if our marriage didn't pan out. And there sure wasn't any assurance it would. We didn't have a lock on how to keep a marriage going. When we opted to adopt Paul and Mary Ann and decided they were worth a "stay at home Mom," major financial problems set in! Why wouldn't they set in, our take home money was reduced by more than 50 per cent! We weren't above yakking about what we were going to do to make ends meet. It was always both a worry and something to keep a marriage stirred up! About that time I commenced a second job of painting to bring in some much needed additional income. It was a natural. I came from a long line of painters. Sometimes, I worked at night and ALWAYS from sun-up to sun-down on Saturdays. After eating a delayed supper every Saturday night with Connie and the kids, I spent an hour or so before collapsing in bed, cleaning up my paint brushes and putting my paint equipment away. I was tired and cross. Fast forward a few years and just when I began to think the money crunch was easing and we could begin to enjoy some fruits of our labor, I discovered Connie was exhibiting signs of early onset Alzheimer's Disease! Oh Lord, why us? I was in denial that this was the direction of our marriage. When she would do dumb things, I would yell at her. I thought she could work through her problems if she tried. Then came the infamous night I have written about in my book "It's Just Me" when I found Connie wallowing in her excrement on the kitchen floor. She had gotten up to go to the bathroom, became disoriented and went to the bathroom on the kitchen floor. And she spent who knows how long trying to figure out where she was, who she was, and why she was hopelessly mired in her filth. The room was dark and I only found her by her pitiful soft cries. Can you imagine anything worse? All I could do after turning on the light was collapse in a nearby chair, in my underwear and sob. She wasn't hurt but where and how do I start? I have never felt so helpless and hopeless. Fainting crossed my mind. Who would have dreamed our life would have come to this point! I certainly didn't envision anything like this on our joyous wedding day! Four hours later at daybreak, after crying my eyes out and yes, yelling at her, I put her cleaned body with freshly shampooed hair back in bed. I finished cleaning up the rest of the house and laundering and drying the cleaning towels etc. And as I was tucking her in bed as I always did, she buckled my knees by lovingly pulling my head down to her face and told me as best she could with her Alzheimer's ridden mind and speech "I......l.o.v.e...y.o.u." Oh God, Help us! But you know what, it took something tough like that to beat some sense into my stubborn head and change me for the rest of our lives. I began to think about someone other than myself, - someone who desperately needed help. Divorce? Never! This story was posted on 2010-10-03 04:44:11
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Have comments or corrections for this story? Use our contact form and let us know. More articles from topic Chuck Hinman - Reminiscences:
Chuck Hinman IJMA 099: Help for Visually Impaired Dummy Chuck Hinman: IJMA No. 075: Properly Dressed Chuck Hinman IJMA No. 106: Sleeping Bag Predicament Chuck Hinman IJMA No. 119: Beta Beta Beta : the Black Bottom Boys Chuck Hinman IJMA No. 162: A Tribute to Our Horses Chuck Hinman. IJMA No. 016: Twenty froggies went to school Chuck Hinman IJMA No. 092: Borrowing Stuff Chuck Hinman IJMA 078: Fried Chicken Chuck Hinman, IJMA 109: Little Helper Boy Chuck Hinman, IJMA 115: The Time Mom Taught Me To Control My Temper View even more articles in topic Chuck Hinman - Reminiscences |
 
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