Guatemala Highway at Dusk (c) April 2007 CBerg
Running Away
July 21, 2007
Running Away from
A year of cries and good byes.
He left without opening the door.
He said he had gone years before…the children kept him here.
That he lived in anger and unhappiness
Under our roof.
I tried to remember a time when he was happy.
(He is so filled with love and compassion for his staff and patients.)
I tried to remember…when he held me several yesterdays ago,
I felt his love and compassion. Protected. Like he was my rock.
But he was unhappy. I knew that. His friends knew that.
When was he happy?
Maybe the moment we married in the Kansas log chapel,
Married by the Dean of Students who was also a minister.
Walking down the wedding isle to an Irish jig and Bach.
Because I hated, “Here comes the bride, big fat and wide…”
Maybe when he saw tears in my eyes, and promised for life?
Maybe on our honeymoon, sandwiched in the spring break,
and shortened when we ran out of money.
No problem, just turn around and drive home from Colorado Springs,
Me riding shotgun in his mother’s loaner, the brown Chevy Duster,
Through a fresh snowfall,
Five to ten inches,
Or was it three?
Our tracks the first on the highway.
Now I see 5x7 memory of that joyful March trip,
Twenty-two year-olds in the Garden of the Gods.
He jumped as the automatic shutter-timer
Clicked.
Beginning a new life together.
2.
--Do you think we’ll make it?—he asked
—Half of marriages end in divorce—
--I think so—I said without the certainty of age and experience.
I had vowed to be flexible, to change my infinite self to fit his needs,
For the family, for his career, for us, for him.
I knew too many women who were selfish with their own goals.
I would be more traditional, like women before me,
Like women after me.
We said in those early years, the seventies, when there seemed to be no models for roles, Someone has to do the dishes, be the “wife,”
Even when I was the bread winner in those med school years,
I did the dishes, and the shopping, I mowed the lawn for the first time in my life,
I paid the bills, I decorated the first Christmas tree.
He studied, and worked, and studied.
He remembers that he mowed the lawn, too, and did dishes.
I don’t. He painted the outside of our duplex for a discount on rent.
I tended my plants and garden and dogs, and being happy at home, if not at work.
When we could finally afford it, babies came as twins.
He was there. And there, and there. I cooked, and nursed, and did laundry.
He did all the dishes.
We both had day-mares,
since we didn’t get enough sleep to have nightmares.
He was there.
When we moved, I changed my contract.
The little woman quit changing herself for everyone else.
Sanity took a vacation.
The choices I thought I had made for him and the family,
that had left me feeling numb inside and disconnected,
were MY choices, not His.
If I was unhappy, it was not because of him, or anyone else,
It was because of me.
I made a different choice.
I searched, went down wrong paths, dead ends,
I found choices that gave me joy, in addition to my joy in my children and family.
And I found that I wasn’t responsible for his unhappiness. He was.
So I let him be himself, and I worked on me.
I found that I loved him more. He thought I loved him less.
And our rhythm of closer together,
farther apart,
together,
apart…
Over the years was broken.
Thirty-two years after the first snow…
He left.
I started searching.
Did we make it to forever after?
We made
Three wonderful daughters
A secluded, wooded estate
A home with undercurrents that shadowed mental illness
A home with love
He made his practice,
I practiced on the family.
He still has his practice,
Which he hates, and loves,
As he hates and loves me.
As he hated and loved his mother
His sister
His father
The art world
Politics
Organized religion
Medical school
Doctors
Life
Who will he hate when I am gone?
When the work is gone?
Or will he have learned/has he learned that
Hate is the only enemy?
That the darkness he sees is only his own reflection in a mirror?
Monday, he took me to dinner.
--I forgive you for everything you have done to me—
he said after a couple of drinks.
Taken aback, I returned to him
—Well, I forgive you for everything you have done to me.
Relief spread over his face—I so wanted that (you would forgive me).—
What was that?
We haven’t seen much of each other since.
Has this year of running has ended?
I saw the Corte d’Azure in France,
Beaches in Santa Barbara,
Vineyards in San Francisco,
hedge apples and muddy rivers in Kansas,
a Hospital in Belvedere, Illinois,
Renaissance Fair in Shakopee, Minnesota,
Pacifica Graduate Institute in Carpinteria, California,
Killarnery, Killkenny, and Stables in Ireland,
a clear Stockton Lake in Missouri,
Rosh Hashanah in Dallas,
Peoples Unitarian Church in Cedar Rapids,
Anyasara Yoga, and
the Kabbalah
In the one year since he left.
And when I got home, I was still there.
This year has ended.
Now I stay home and take care of business.
Emotional cleaning,
Physical cleaning,
I have thrown open the doors.
Poised, and almost ready
to step into life...not running away
but conscious leaving. Goodbye.
Ridge Highway Estes Park, Colorado (c) Sept. 2007 CBerg
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thatdamnbob
Steve Blevins
Lunchlady 2
Walk Away
john blumenthal
Verbal Remedy
Salon.com
Comments
All any of us can do, is take care of our own stuff. Wishing you all the best for the NEXT year as well. And all the ones after that.
no other words do this justice
Your gift is evident. Please keep spreading the words.
Julianne, Thanks so much...does our own stuff EVER get any easier?? Sometimes I think I'm just going in circles.
Suzanne, I'm very lucky to be able to do this stuff. I even surprised myself!
Brian, I'm so glad to hear from you.
Dyno, It makes us grow. Thanks for the encouragement.
O'Steph, So nice...thanks for the hug!
Brie, Thanks!
I am somewhat at a loss for words (unusual for me). This is, simply put, nicely done. The love, the pain, the hurt, the confusion and now a sense of finding yourself all come through to me. Keep writing.
and i know that this is a sad but common truth regarding millions of marriages the world over - one partner has checked out of the emotional/love aspect of the marriage but lingered on for a while
and you never really spoke of devastation on your part..this terrific post was full of acceptance and dealing with the reality and moving on
i admire that
and i've decided to make this c berg week at the mccflop household...i intend to finish each day with 3 or 4 of your posts
with sincere thanks for writing
and rated of course