Change is inevitable…”except from a vending machine.”
—Robert C. Gallagher
Listen, people change. It’s a common occurrence. It’s an earthly quality with consistency we can all rely on. I change. I change on a daily basis. My friend likes to call it being a contrarian. I like to call it being adaptable. But hey, this isn’t about vocabular propriety.
Okay, imagine this: two people in love and the world is on fire with their passion. The baby comes—then marriage—then the proverbial white picket fence. Ten years of this is a long run—a good run; but somewhere along the way the two people get bored or get tired or get superiority complexes. All is no longer right in the world—divorce is on the horizon and the sun sets on a once happy union. Fin.
Now I must commend these two individuals for divorcing unlike so many others: amicably. There was no need for lawyers or mediators; no need for the police or any other third party to aid the couple in going their separate ways. They simply managed to come to an agreement all on their own. Many couples are incapable of doing this because the bitterness is so strong, and the anger made so relevant.
I am going to jet-pack propel us down the road a bit, about two years. Everyone has moved on. All seems right in the world once again. The child of the marriage, though still somewhat grappling with the varying issues of divorce, has even settled into a comfortable, happy routine. And then dad cancels the health insurance. Just like that: snap! No notice, no nothin’. Mom takes child to a doctor’s appointment on a cool February morning, whips out the insurance card only to be politely informed that it is inactive. She gives dad a call and politely asks, “WTF?” As with many reasons behind insurance cancellations, the rates were too high. Regardless of insurance companies and their back-alley style muggings/payment plans, the dad was wrong in cancelling the insurance; but more so about not informing the mother of the cancellation. This is just one selfish move on a long list of selfish moves, but I’m certainly not getting into all that. You’re probably already asleep by now because daytime television has already satisfied your quota for drama.
Now I am not siding with anyone here—I’m doing my best to be objective. Objectivity is a hard thing to accomplish—I’m a human being with emotions and opinions and my own version of what is right and wrong. The dad is not destitute. He has a well paying job, a nice house on the lake and who knows what other modern day luxuries. Who cares, it’s irrelevant. What is relevant is that he does the right thing. He used to do the right thing when I knew him. Something has changed in him. I don’t know if it’s apathy or IRS problems or nasal polyps—all those things are equivalent to having a pole up the ass (or nose). However, and this is a big however; do the right thing. If your marriage settlement agreement divvies up responsibilities sufficiently and it’s a document you put your name and promise to—then follow through.
RESPONSIBILITIES: don’t be a schmuck and shirk
He’ll never read this…maybe I should send him a letter?