Today is my divorce hearing. The past couple months, while stressful, have been relatively smooth (mom, it’s all a matter of perspective) and this date has arrived with little fanfare.
My friends and family have been very supportive since we first decided to split up, but I found an ally in one person I didn’t anticipate. I have an aunt who’s also going through a divorce, and over the summer we discovered that we could talk to each other in a way we couldn’t with anyone else. (At least that was the case for me.) Yes, I have friends who’ve been divorced and they’ve offered wonderful advice, but there’s something about talking to someone who’s going through it at the same time that’s especially helpful. Plus, most people — no matter how supportive — get tired of divorce talk after a period of time.
This morning I’m meeting my aunt for breakfast before I head to the courthouse, but she’s not joining me for moral support. As fate, luck, or whatever-you-want-to-call-it would have it, her court date is also today. At the same time. In the same courtroom. With the same judge.
And to top it all off, we’re both going back to our maiden names — Hooyenga. You can bet the judge doesn’t see THAT every day.