As I had mentioned, the only way for me to see anything from the past is to transcribe it from my old MacBook dinosaur. Reading through some letters, applications, and personal essays of my own kids and of friends’ kids is difficult, especially when I know that I either wrote these pieces in their entirety or I helped enormously with the process. I did not, however, write this one, but I must tell you that it was written only days before Rebecca left me for good.
“For better or for worse” is probably one of the most ambiguous and indefinable cliches ever said, and I often wondered who was the author of such a vague statement. Whether vicariously admiring that physically unblemished couple on television as they took their ersatz vows, or personally watching my parents’ traditional wedding video, I questioned the meaning of those five unclear words. It is the grey area that lies within the “for better or for worse” that has always intrigued me and led to this curiosity and need to label exactly what it meant.
Growing up in a relatively typical suburb in New Jersey provided me with the opportunity to have front row seats to many pretentious and insincere performances. Though my own childhood was certainly happy, and though I was born to parents who loved me fully and unconditionally, it wasn’t until I was a teenager when I noticed that the two people I loved the most were utilizing and perseverating on the “for better or for worse.” They were remaining stagnant in their marriage not only because they didn’t want to disturb the peace in my siblings’ and my world; they themselves were suffering that cliche that seems to subconsciously intimidate and threaten husbands and wives. Though my parents finally began their divorce proceedings in July, I feel this need to pursue, understand, and hopefully negate the reluctance of some people to separate.
When I was a freshman in high school, I took a course in which our teacher allowed us to argue questions we got wrong on a test to explain why we believed we should get the points back. On one test, my classmates were arguing a question that I had gotten right. Our teacher was not amused by their objections, so I decided to raise my hand and present an argument that, though not directly helpful to me, I thought would help my classmates. My teacher liked my answer, gave the whole class credit for the question, and suggested I become a lawyer.
I’ve been considering law ever since then, but I was never naive enough to think that winning arguments was, by itself, a credential to be a lawyer. So, I thought I would probe further. When I was a sophomore in high school, I took a business law class. We held a mock trial in an actual courtroom, and I signed up to be the lawyer representing the plaintiff. The weeks of preparation before the trial were filled with researching the issues and relevant laws, along with interviewing and taking depositions from my classmates who took on the roles of my client and the witnesses. Trying to figure out the strategy of the opposing counsel and put together my strategy accordingly was positively invigorating. I won the case, and I loved it! It was theatrical, intellectual, and challenging. After that, I knew I had a keen interest in entering the courtroom professionally.
During the first semester of my junior year of college, I took another business law class. While many of my classmates dreaded the class, I looked forward to it. I found it to be fascinating. The bulk of the class was focused on contract law, and the exact material that my classmates found to be so dry was actually further whetting my interest in heading right to law school after college. I signed up for an LSAT class immediately following the completion of the course.
The practical application of the law to my real life through my parents’ divorce, along with my academic experiences, leaves no doubt in my mind that the law should be welcomed and not feared. Though the divorce is still in process, I can already see the vital importance in the role that the law is playing. I want to help other families make it through to a better time in their lives, so that they, like my family, can appreciate all of the good and the protection that the law can provide. So, “for better or for worse,” I am hoping to be a member of the ___________ Law School Class of 2017 so I can make this plan my reality.
My feelings are so all over the place with this. It’s important to note that my divorce went on for more than 2 years after this, and that I certainly did not “appreciate all of the good and the protection that the law can provide.” As I wrote just a couple of blogs ago, my “perfect storm” of a life, marriage, and divorce had my judge working for Jay’s firm months after our tragic 3 year divorce was finalized. Protected by the law? Not this girl.
I’ll be sharing a note that Betsy Bresnick, my first lawyer, wrote to somebody at Howard Felcher’s office. Howard Felcher, as you recall, was Jay’s malignancy of a lawyer. You will read about how Jay had my car repossessed and how he tried to press criminal charges against me for opening up a credit card in his name six years prior to our divorce. You will read it all.
I have no doubt that Rebecca is a stellar lawyer, and, by the way, she chose to pursue family law. I also have no doubt that she is a shark, but I would bet the farm she wouldn’t put any other mother through what Howard Felcher put me through. Irony at its finest.
A Martini Toast 