Rings

But her wedding also meant that my dad is dead. He's been dead for a while! This was a terrible shock to me anyway. My poor dad! He is jealous and pacing, up in heaven or down in hell, even if he did also want my mom to be happy. My poor dad! And poor me, dadless but now with a stepdad, I think I've talked to him, maybe three times, and a whole bunch of strangers to whom I am related. I felt abandoned and wanted to cry. I'm forty years old: why is this all so surprising?

My dad's death allowed me to break free of a sad first marriage, it was the last wonderful thing he did for me.

I have this shirt. It is white, short sleeves, and has three cartoon panels across the chest. In the first panel, a woman and a man are running, side by side. Under the panel, it says, “See Jane...”

The second panel shows the two runners, but the woman is farther ahead, the man is lagging behind. Under it says, “make Jack...”

The third panel shows the woman still running, but the man is now a tiny speck in the distance. Under it says, “disappear.”

When I bought this shirt, I had separated from my first husband. I loved this shirt, I thought it was terrific. I felt like I had worked hard to break free, it had been long and painful, like a marathon spread out over a decade. My poor first husband felt abandoned, and I felt free.

I was just thinking, freedom and abandonment, they are layered together, like layers of clay, one covering up the other. You put one layer down over the other, and they can alternate until you have so many layers that it's all too heavy to work with – it's all stuck together! And so you go running instead. Or ride a bike.

But be careful with your ring.