December 6, 2011, just 5 days short of the 13th anniversary of first meeting my husband, I became single again . . .
Monday was unusually stressful for me. Jim and I were still haggling over the separation/child custody agreement. Court was the next day, and I didn't want a continuance. I wanted this thing done!
Finally we reached an agreement, and at a few minutes before 5, Jim and I both signed off on the paperwork in front of a notary. In spite of the fact that I had been longing for this moment, my hand shook as I signed my name in the appropriate places and initialed every page . . .
Yesterday morning I awoke at my usual time, despite the alarm not being set. I suppose the anxiety just wouldn't allow for sleep . . . Court was at 1 p.m.
Just before noon, I took Sam over to spend the afternoon with my cousin, then picked up Mama. (Just in case I've never mentioned this, I have the most amazing, awesome mom in the world.) Before we had a signed agreement in place, when I still didn't know how this was going to go, I asked Mama to come with me for support.
As I pulled into the parking lot, I received a text from my lawyer saying she was in the upstairs courtroom. This was good info since I wasn't sure where I was supposed to go.
About a quarter to one, we were sitting in the upstairs courtroom (and this is where you've got to love small town life), when security personnel noted that no one in the courtroom had gone through security. We were asked to go back downstairs to go through their "security" checkpoint (which is NOT a permanent fixture and is apparently only setup when needed). We were also told at that time that purses and cell phones were not allowed in the courtroom. Great! A trip back out to my car to lock those in my trunk . . . OK, back to the "security" checkpoint. Please picture this (I should seriously have taken a photo): Our courthouse is a beautiful old building that is 100 years old this year . . .
So, at 1 p.m. we're all back in the courtroom. The judge reads down the docket, calling off cases. At the calling of my case, my lawyer stood and told him that while this was on the docket as a temporary hearing both parties had reached an agreement and we'd like final disposition of the matter. He continued down the docket, and then perhaps because mine was the easiest case on there, he called my attorney to the bench. She handed him my papers, and a moment later motioned for me to approach. The judge said, "Your attorney will now ask you a series of questions." As she asked, he scanned through all of our documents.
"What is your name?"
Abigail Nabal.
"Who are you married to?"
Jim Nabal.
"Do you have any children together?"
Yes, a son, Samuel Nabal.
"How old is your son?"
Three in a couple of weeks.
"In your opinion, does the custody agreement make adequate provision for the care of the minor child?"
Yes.
"Have you reached a property settlement agreement that you feel is fair and adequate?"
Yes.
"Can this marriage be saved?"
No.
"Are you pregnant at this time?" (For those of you who don't know, you CANNOT get divorced in our state if you are pregnant.)
No.
And then the scratch of the judges pen as he signs off in all the appropriate places.
It isn't even 1:15 yet.
My lawyer looks at me as we wait for copies of our paperwork. She speaks quietly as the next case is called, "And just like that, you're divorced."
