"there's frost on the pumpkin"

There really was frost on my pumpkins today; when I woke this morning it was in the 30s.

    There's frost on the pumpkin. Throughout my marriage, that phrase was code for "it's damn cold out." It was not only a statement of fact but also conveyed a value judgment, a sense of humor, shared history, and an expression of care. 

    My ex's second marriage is longer than our first marriage was. We haven't spoken in 5 years, though we did exchange awkward cards about a year ago. It feels strange, still, that he is not a part of my life. Not to the extent that I could send him that photo. Before, I could do it, you see, with no commentary at all, and he would know right away what it meant. 

    What do you do with that shared language, when the only one who speaks it cannot talk to you? 

    Is there something peculiar about me, that I wish we could still be in touch? Not on an everyday level, mind you. Birthday and Christmas cards, maybe. Simple acknowledgement of having known each other.

    These questions, and many more, have tumbled through my head over the past few months, as I honed in on a decision that I've pondered for some time. Finally, with the sale of my home looming, I made it real. I am taking my name back. Legally, near the end of December, I will regain my previous identity. "Giving back" my married name is an easy decision even though it took a lot of thought to make it happen. Plus $300 for court filing fees and a criminal background check. (I hope I pass!) 

    There were plenty of practical reasons for it: no more telemarketing in a language I do not speak; no more "huh, you don't LOOK like your name!"; no more spelling it nearly every time I say it. There were several drawbacks, of course. IRS, state department of revenue, Social Security, health care, real estate, education and licensing, finance... Not to mention explaining the rationale (at whatever level I choose to do so) to all and sundry. There's also the idea that it is, to some extent, a "gift" to my parents, for whom my continued use of my married name was not hurtful but perplexing. 

    And I'm not that person anymore. Haven't been for a while now. This is another step toward the outside matching the inside.