Posted by: Michael Rickicki | 03/21/2018


Last night I lost it. It had been a long day of shuttling kids between boroughs to my wife,to school, to ballet and back again and, just as I had begun the dishes after the dinner I made my wife began to lay into me.

According to her, I’m failing at noisy of the things I’m doing. Failing as a father for not taking the kids to cub scouts late when she makes it in the door right as the meeting begins. Failing to make enough money (although I doubt she would put it in those words). Failing to be unfailingly nice to her. And, falling at being a husband and father.

So, I lost it. Threw the bowl I had been washing into the sink and left it there broken as I ran out the door to cool off. Of course, we are here again: she wants to talk about divorce. Frankly, I will give it to her if that’s what she wants but I’m not interested in “figuring it out.” The truth is that divorce is a horrible option for all involved and I would rather stay in an affectionless marriage due the next eighteen years than do that to my children.

I promised to talk to her about it and I will tonight but am I being selfish for not helping her figure out how to exit in the best possible way? I would give her as much as I could while still being able to pay for a place to live for myself but, in this city, that won’t leave much. Certainly not enough for vacations and dozens of classes. We shall see bit wish me fortitude and forbearance.


  1. May there be mutual balam kanti and metta. And formost: “not for sure”

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Shillelagh Studies

A hub for the music, culture, knowledge, and practice of Irish stick-fighting, past and present.