This got the wheels in my head spinning. I have always been sensitive to inferences, probably far too sensitive. Apparently Marie and I are far farther along in our estrangement than I thought. Her immediate supervisor introduces herself to me as my ex-wife's boss. Apparently she knows something I don't, or observes something I don't have the opportunity to observe. Maybe Marie is dating the Budweiser rep. Wouldn't that be ironic? Her parting phrase, "good luck" really hung in the air. It isn't something you normally say to someone you just met, unless you feel they need it. The whole exchange left me quite troubled. My spidey sense was tingling a mile a minute.
After I finished my shift I called Marie and she didn't answer. I left a mournful voice message describing the exchange with her boss. "What's going on?" I asked, "Is there something I should know?" By this time it was after 11. Around 12:30 she sent me a text. "Please call me in the morning," it said.
This morning I cleaned the bathroom and started the laundry and had a mixing bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. I made the call and got voicemail again and left a truncated message. "You asked me to call so I did. Have a good morning." Thirty minutes later I get another text. "Can you meet me this afternoon?" it said. "Where and when." I replied. Another message: "Any place. I could head over that way." I suggested the park outside Luis Palau's Cityfest, where the spirit of God would be strongest. She hasn't answered yet.
I think my wife is arranging a meeting to tell me she is no longer my wife. This is sad but not unexpected: we've been separated for six months. It hurts all over again. My perception of things was that we were still talking and there was still hope. It's good to have your perceptions corrected when they are fundamentally false.
In seven years I will be sixty years old. And breaking up is still hard to do. This morning when I woke up I was hearing an old Bob Seeger song in my head:
I awoke last night to the sound of thunder
How far off I sat and wondered
Started humming a song from 1962
Aint it funny how the night moves
When you just don't seem to have as much to lose
Strange how the night moves
With autumn closing in
4 comments:
Did you meet with Marie yesterday?
Dale ... I hope your Spidey sense is wrong ... or perhaps not.
Perhaps it is time. Only you and Marie know for sure, and maybe not even you ... But if your worst fear comes to pass, at least she has the grace to meet you and discuss things in person, and not over the phone or, worse yet, via text message (a technology that, along with the internal combustion engine, I wish had never been invented).
Autumn's closing in, to be sure. Less than four weeks away. I woke last night, not to the sound of thunder, but to the sweet, steady patter of a sudden and determined rain.
In the movies, rain often signals a transformation. Even though the moment of downpour is often sad and painful, the aftermath is one of new possibilities, a fresh start ...
Life ain't the movies. But sometimes it's hard to tell the difference.
Good luck, friend.
(note, for the record, that I am ignoring your crack about USC football and your unfounded allegations about cheating.)
Dad--
I wish you luck with your meeting with Marie however you hope it will turn out.
PS I like this Brad in Eugene fellow. You two should meet up at a bar or something down in Eugene for the Duck vs USC game. And sorry Brad but even I, a Beav fan, will be cheering for the Ducks that game....
Steph
Gretchen, Brad, Steff--
Thanks for checking in. The story of my nonmeeting with Marie is the subject of today's blog post.
Pretty funny how PAC-10 rivalries turn up even on the blog.
take care, and thanks again for your support.
Dale
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