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Solvent for the old demons


May 25, 2008 - 12:10 a.m.

I got married for the first time well over a decade ago.

If you've read this site since the beginning, or if you got really bored the first night you found this site and went back to read the previous 813 entries, you know that that marriage didn't end particularly well.

Well, I've spent this week bleaching out the last of the demons. Suzanne has helped. The last evidence of my ex-wife has vanished from the house, and in a small way, the last bad mojo from the first wedding. When we had our party here after the ceremony and after the luncheon that followed, some very old and dear friends were present, and we helped get rid of one bit of that mojo, the remainder of a bottle of Stolichnaya Black Label 100-proof vodka. I bought two bottles of it before the wedding in 1995, intending to share it with my closest friends, which I did and we did. Apparently a bit too much to suit my now-ex-wife, because I put that first frozen bottle away and literally didn't touch it for about thirteen years.

Well, among my friends, some new and some still present from that last wedding, I distributed the frozen remains of that fourteen-year-old bottle of fine old Russian vodka. Each made a toast to the good things, the positive things, and to chasing out old demons.

My ex-wife is long gone, the house we lived in then is long gone, her friends and relatives are long gone. My father is gone, some of my friends from then are gone. Some things have carried on... my old Volvos, our cat, Gina, and some other things.

But that vodka and the bad feelings it carried for some people who are no longer important in my life are gone, after nearly fourteen years. And replacing those things are some very good feelings about finding the right person in spite of everything, and people who understand and appreciate those feelings. Kind of a long time between sips, eh?

I still have the other bottle, but it's going to sit down there in the dust next to some fine old wine (and some horrible, undrinkable crap) and collect age and wisdom until such time as we choose to share an evening with lots of good friends whose feelings buoy us up, not whose worries and fears wear us down.

Hail fellow, well met.


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