In January, my husband blindsided me with divorce. Not for a moment during the prior 36 years did I doubt that we would spend the rest of our lives together. It was clear to everyone that we were meant to be — bashert, as my Jewish friends would say.
After my husband made his announcement, I could not eat or sleep. On those rare occasions when I did sleep, I would wake up confused, asking myself if this was really happening. I sobbed constantly. I sobbed in public. I don’t mean I cried; I sobbed. And I couldn’t stop. Everyone I know has now seen me sob. Strangers have not been left out either. When the cashier at Target asked me how my day was, let’s just say she probably regretted it.
I was fully aware of the irony, a professional humorist who can’t stop sobbing.
