hendersonhouseofcards

In Courtroom 1 of the Middlesex Probate and Family Court, Holly and I appeared today before a Judge (Dorothy, which is interesting, given that Dorothy is the name of Holly’s paternal grandmother, and the judge who performed the wedding ceremony Holly and I had in 2001 was named Fred, which is Holly’s father’s name — sometimes I think I look for connections that aren’t really there, but still) and agreed that our marriage had irretrievably broken down.

“Are you sure?” the judge asked.

“I’m gay,” I said. “I’m sure our marriage has irretrievably broken down.”

The judge asked us several questions, which our respective attorneys had prepped us to answer, and the judge said she would sign the order of divorce today, though Holly and I remain legally married for 90 days.

“You just can’t get married in the next 90 days,” Holly’s attorney told us, as she, my attorney, and me and Holly walked toward our cars (of course Holly and I drove to the courtroom together, and are now at home, where we and the kids are getting ready to go to the Children’s Museum and then to lunch).

Which isn’t a problem. Neither Holly nor I think we will get married again (to other people, or to each other — see prior statement about the irretrievable breakdown in our marriage. Gay and all.).

Another oddball connection, not as tenuous as the names of the judges who handled our marriage and divorce being the names of members of Holly’s family, but our divorce will be finalized on August 31, which is two years to the day since I moved out of the home Holly and I shared.