39 Bottles of Beer

It's been a couple of months since I last wrote an entry in my "99 bottles of beer" blog I got to bottle number 40 and then Jeff was released from prison.  Ready or not, I had to face him...and I did.  The surprising part about the whole ordeal, was that it was not an ordeal at all.  It was normal.  It was fine.  It was almost like a non-event.   Much like the soda pop that lost its' fizz because someone didn't screw the lid on tight enough, our initial meeting didn't have any volcanic overflow, explosions, mess, or fireworks.  It was flat-barely registered on a emotional Richter scale-if there was such a thing. 

Since Jeff returned to Utah, we've had about 3 or 4 family dinners, and about 4 one on one exchanges such as walks, car rides, errands, etc.  We had a discussion about boundaries and so far, they have been respected.  My son asked if I was attracted to him, and I honestly said I wasn't.  There is familiarity for sure, but I feel like my eyes are wide open.  I see him, or at least I think I'm seeing him with new eyes and awareness. 

When his release date finally arrived I didn't have a bunch of pent up feelings and thoughts waiting to explode.  They came out gradually through the process of writing 60 journal entries; writing my 99 bottles of beer blog helped me explore issues regarding my relationship with my x husband- past, present future.

It's been more difficult for my children since they have not processed through their issues regarding their father, their mother, their relationship, and our family dynamics past,present, and future.  Some have suggested some sort of family therapy.

I'm open to that, though I don't have funds.  Last week I suggested Jeff cover mental health expenses-I think that's fair.  Taking a page out of the past Mowen family playbook, we usually don't go to the doctor unless we're practically dying.  Instead we do the best with the resources we already have.  It's our attempt to self-medicate.

And so I turn once again to beer.  That's medicine right?  Surely I have 40 bottles worth of mental health ideas, interventions, treatment or home grown remedies to help with our condition.

Flat can be good when it comes to shaking bottles and opening them up.  But flat can also impede progress-especially as I'm writing this entry as I sit here on my para-transit bus with several customers on board  waiting for help to arrive.  It is my first experience with a flat tire during my early morning route, probably not the last. 

The big boss came, we transferred the customers to a different van and we were on our way.  Perhaps these last 40 bottles can help the people in my family board a different bus and get back on track.  We can make forward progress and eventually fix that flat tire or replace it with a new one.