Mother of the Munchkins... Pink hindsight

Pink hindsight

By Bethany J. Royer

Mother of the Munchkins

The second floor of the Greenville Courthouse is cavernous and the walls are very, very pink. I’ve been meaning to ask why the walls are pink but assume it is to keep people calm if not in a state of perpetual zombification.

For the record, I do not like the second floor of the courthouse, or the pink walls, but I certainly felt like a zombie as I sat on one of the benches in August, awaiting my dissolution finalization.

That depressing day also happened to be the same day as my eldest daughter’s ninth birthday and the first day at a new school for both of my munchkins. (My girls attend Greenville schools nowadays) Rather than cake-filled celebrations I had to deal with nerves shot to you-know-where, my stomach twisted in knots, and a case of vertigo so bad I swore my head was in a blender.

 I arrived exactly 45 minutes early for not only a good parking spot but to write about my roller coaster emotions because that fateful day marked my second dissolution in twelve years. The second time I sat beneath the curved white ceiling tiles on the second floor of Greenville’s historic courthouse, feeling every bit a failure and pariah to society, and I wasn’t about to let myself forget it.

My situation stunk, and I was nervous as can be, the pink walls were of no help and quickly became an obsession as I jotted down everything from what I was wearing, to the riot of colors in the carpet, to the smart snip-snap of some woman’s shoes as she walked the length of the hall.

Writing proved a difficult task as my hands shook. About the time I’d get my hands under control my knees would start up and when those were reined in my lower lip trembled. I took several deep breaths and assured myself that no one is perfect, that no one gets married with plans to be in my said situation, certainly not twice! Meanwhile, I calculated it would take about three to five seconds to launch myself off the bench to the corner laden trashcan if my stomach came unglued. I also considered going over, picking it up, and tucking the trashcan beneath one arm for wherever I may be headed, just in case. If I could even stand because I honestly thought if I stood up, the floor and I would meet in less than two seconds.

Pass out, vomit, or scream, a mix of all three, I wasn’t sure which emotion planned a jail break. So, sorry dear Greenville Courthouse second floor painting maestros, but the pink walls were of no help to me. A complementary bottle of Pepto, a priest, or volunteer hand to hold would been far more appreciated than pink walls.

As the clock continued its haughty pace, I glanced at the tissue secured in one sweaty palm, long since torn to shreds and desperately wished for a time machine to go back twelve years and nearly two months to the day when I would have been seated in the exact same spot. Well, almost the exact same spot. I’m pretty sure I sat on the opposite side of the room where I became enthralled with a photo hung crookedly on the wall. I don’t even remember what the picture was but I was obsessed with it. It kept my mind preoccupied, like the pink walls this past August.

Course, it doesn’t really matter where I was seated or if a photo hung crooked on a maybe or maybe not pink wall. If I’d the ability to go back in time I’d have smacked myself silly. Or, at the very least, leave a graffiti-style message across maybe or maybe not pink walls.

Whatever you do, do not fall in love again!

Maybe, fall in love but don’t get married!

Or better yet, run, girl, run!

That’s the beauty of hindsight, a pink hindsight, that makes every question easy to answer, every quarrel seemingly ridiculous, if not downright silly, and every loss seemingly far less painful.

At least, that’s how the latter seems until you find yourself once again in divorce court obsessing over pink painted walls.  

The mother of two munchkins, Bethany J. Royer is an independent contractor and writer currently studying psychology with Florida Institute of Technology.  She is actively seeking a publisher for her first completed novel while working on a memoir about her personal trials and tribulations with divorce. She blogs prolifically at motherofthemunchkins.blogspot.com.