Tag Archives: reconciliation

The Garden, Chapter XXII

“I thought that I was going to die right then and there” Charlie said.  “Those guys have hair triggers.  I really didn’t realize how bad they have it.”  Jason chuckled softly around a mouthful of hash brown potatoes while LuAnn shook her head and clucked her disapproval.

“You’ve come back too far and you’re too close to seeing your boy to be fooling around with such things” Lu Ann told him.  “Those men are dangerous, Charlie Hamer.  Don’t you go getting yourself killed just because you feel sorry for them.”

“It’s not that I feel sorry for them, LuAnn” Charlie replied.  “They’re my friends.  They stood with me when I was pretty deep in a hole.  I just didn’t really understand how deep their own hole is.  They’re always going to be my friends; at least, as far as I’m concerned.  I’ll just have to understand that situations where they’re involved can get out of hand and try to be as helpful and supportive as I can, if and when they do.”

“That sounds like the best talk that I ever heard about such things” Jason said as he put down his fork with a sausage link impaled on it.  “You got no idea what it can be like for us vets coming back from those hellholes.  Well, I guess you sorta got and idea, Charlie, with the trouble that you’ve been through, but most people don’t.  I suppose my folks tried, best as they knew how to help me, but usually I just pissed them off and didn’t even know how or why I did it.  That’s why I went to live mostly outside.  Auntie Lu here was the only one who just accepted me and didn’t try to fix me.”

“Auntie Lu?” Charlie interrupted.

“Yeah.  We didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, but you’re pretty much like family now.  Anyway, Aunt Lu and Uncle Duane, God rest his soul, let me stay in a room off the back of their garage whenever I wanted a roof.  They never even offered me so much as a cup of coffee, but that’s ‘cuz I told ‘em that I wasn’t going to sponge off of them so don’t offer it.  At first I didn’t think they could do it, but they did.”

“But you accepted breakfast here” Charlie said.  “I’m not meaning to be argumentative, but how was that different?”

Well, Leroy wasn’t kin to me.  I worked some in the kitchen, as much as I could anyway, to pay for it.  And I still do when I’m not at work at the hospital.  Nobody was keeping records, but I’ll know when the bill’s paid up.”

“Now, you know that there ain’t no bill” LuAnn said.  “Not that you’ll listen to me anyway.  Well, I guess I’d better go earn my pay.  You boys’ll have to do without me for a spell.”  LuAnn walked away and began to minister to her customers’ needs, leaving Charlie and Jason alone at their table.

“So, you didn’t come home with any wounds, did you?”  Charlie asked.  “Physical ones, I mean.”

“No” Jason said.  “And that’s the funniest thing.  Guys were getting zapped left and right of me, but I never got touched.  I could hear the bullets going past my head.  You ever heard one?”  Charlie shook his head in the negative.  “Well” Jason continued, “they make the nastiest damned sound, sort of whistles and wobbles as it goes over your head or past your ear.  No ricochets, no ‘POW’, none of that Hollywood shit.

Well Anyway, guys got taken out with mortars, IEDs, small arms, you name it, but not me.  By the end of my tour guys would want to be with me ‘cuz they figured I’m lucky, but it didn’t do ‘em no good.  They’d get stitched up the middle or whatever and I’d be right next to ‘em and not get a scratch.”

“Sounds to me like you really were lucky” Charlie said.  “That’s a lot of nasty lead and explosives that was playing around out there.  Shoot, I’m surprised that anyone can go through, what is it, a year?”

“I was there two years.”

“OK, two years.  That makes you even luckier.”

“Yeah, I suppose it does.  Don’t get me wrong; I’m much happier about coming home in one piece than I would be about coming home in several.  Still, I can’t forget those guys who weren’t any worse or any better than me, and they got their heads shot off or went home on a stretcher or in a wheelchair.  I mean, sometimes I actually feel bad that I never got a Purple Heart.  It’s like I was shirking or something, but I wasn’t.

There’s nights when I wake up sweating, and I know that I’ve been rolling and kicking on the bed ‘cuz the blankets are all kicked off on the floor.  Usually it’s because I’ve been having the same dream: I’m in a firefight and I take one somewhere.  Usually it’s in the gut, but it can hit me just about anywhere.  Anyway, I know that it’s a bad one and that I’m going to die, and you know what?  I’m glad.  In those dreams I’m glad I finally got hit like my buddies did.  I’m finally one of them; I’ve earned their respect.  I’ve sorta earned my own self-respect.

Then I wake up and realize I’m home and still in one piece, so I would go live outside and make my way partly on the street.  You know, it’s dangerous out there.  You can get yourself hurt out there just as easy as you can in Iraq or Afghanistan.  I think I was trying to pick up my Purple Heart out on the streets.  At least, that’s what the VA counselor thinks, and I think he’s probably right.”

“So your counseling is helping you with all that?” Charlie asked.

“Yeah” Jason replied.  “I’m going more regularly now.  He’s a pretty sharp cookie and he’s right a lot of the time.  Some of the other guys are hard for me to be around though.  I mean, they’re so down that it’s like they project some sort of bad gravity.  It’s weird, but seeing them I figured that I’m not such a basket case after all, and it got easier to live with my shit.”

“Well, I’m glad you did, Jason” Charlie said.  “My counselor has helped more than I ever thought she could.  Man, there’s just no easy way to get your head straightened out once it gets jacked up by something, is there?  And speaking of my counselor, it’s time for me to pay up and go see her.  You take care, Jason, and congratulations on doing so well at your job and getting a handle on your issues.”

Charlie put some money on the table and pushed his chair back.  He knew by now what his favorite breakfast would cost and left that plus a generous tip next to his plate.  He waved to LuAnn as he walked to the door and then he stepped out into the brilliant sunshine of a late summer day.  In ten minutes he was seated in his usual place on the love seat in D’Andra’s cottage, with Salome turning and kneading in his lap, preparing for a nap in what had become one of her favorite spots.

D’Andra emerged from the kitchen with a cup of her delicious coffee and placed it on the table by Charlie’s elbow.  “This morning I’m trying my hand at croissants.  I’ve never made them before, so I’m keeping my fingers crossed.”

“I have faith in your baking skills” Charlie answered.  “I’m sure that they’ll be wonderful.”

“We’ll know in about 15 minutes” D’Andra said with her warm smile.  “Shall we get started?”  Charlie agreed to that as D’Andra sat into her large chair close to him.

“So tell me about your camping trip.  How did that go?”

Charlie recounted the trip with Walt and Billy, sparing no details except for toning down Walt’s story of Bertie’s torture at the hands of the Viet Cong, and his ending of the horribly disfigured soldier’s misery during the battle.

“Well, that’s pretty frightening!” D’andra exclaimed.  “I’m glad that it worked out with nobody getting hurt.”

“Yeah, I am too.  Especially me!  I just didn’t know how deeply those guys were wounded by their experiences.  It made me feel like a baby for falling apart over my problems, which seem so much less than theirs.”

D’Andra took a sip of her tea and said “Um.”  She thought for a moment and then continued with “There’s a couple of things I would like to discuss about that Charlie.  To begin with, I don’t believe that your trauma was any less than theirs.  What I mean is, you were no less shocked and impacted by your circumstances than your friends were by theirs.  I hope that you don’t feel like your troubles should somehow be considered insignificant, because they surely were not.”

“No” Charlie agreed.  “I suppose that they weren’t.  But Walt and Billy saw so much of that stuff while they were overseas.  I can’t even imagine what they must have gone through.  I’ve never seen anything like that.”

“And how many of their daughters did they see die over there?  How many of their children did they have to bury?” D’andra asked.  “How many of them had mature families fall apart while they were unable to organize a straight thought from one minute to the next?  Now, I’m not trying to minimize their pain, but I hope you can see that you do nobody any good by minimizing your own.”

Charlie thought about that for a minute and then decided that, once again, D’Andra was right.  “OK” he said.  “I see your point.  I’ll try to be easier on myself.”

“Good” D’Andra said.  “You deserve it.  Now, there’s another point that I would like to discuss, and that was your response during the confrontation.”

“My response was that I nearly crapped in my underwear, and then I chewed out my two best friends.”

D’Andra laughed and took a sip of her tea.  “I would have crapped my own underwear if I would have been there” she said, and laughed once again.  Charlie laughed too, took a sip of his coffee and scratched a purring Salome behind her ear.  “But there’s more to it than that” D’Andra continued.

“I think you would have to say that you were in a very stressful situation and you were making analyses, connecting dots, and managing a situation that could have left people killed or injured.  You got everyone home alive and well that day.  I believe that shows an ability to see a problem from the outside when you are very much on the inside of it.  Your handling of the situation, at least as nearly as I can tell by what you shared with me of it, indicates to me that you were the most rational person there, and I believe that says a lot about how your mind is healing from your long hurt.”

A timer went off in the kitchen and D’Andra said “Hold that thought” as she arose and went to inspect her new creation.  Charlie was glued to his spot by a very comfortable cat and so D’Andra had to conduct her inspection alone, although he was very curious about her success.  D’andra returned momentarily with a down look on her face.

“Well” she said.  “The people who wrote the recipe warned me to not be discouraged if I failed on my first try.  Would you care for some dough that is well baked but has little else to recommend it?”

Charlie was still full from his recent breakfast but agreed to try D’Andra’s failed experiment.  He always left just a little room in his stomach when he came to D’Andra’s cottage.  She went back into the kitchen and quickly returned with what looked to him like two very reasonable facsimiles of a croissant, with a small dish of butter and another with a lingonberry jelly.  “They look fine to me” he told her.

“You’re a very kind person, Charlie, but you’re an awful liar” D’Andra replied.

“No, I’m serious” Charlie said.  He smeared a little butter and jelly on one of the slightly flattened pastries and took a bite.  The dough was, in fact, cooked, but it lacked the lightness of a true croissant.  “OK.  I guess they’re not perfect, but they’re still pretty good.”

“Go ahead” she told him.  “Get all of that B.S. out of your system now.  We’ll tell only the truth for the rest of your hour.”

“All right” he said.  “So maybe they do need a little work.  They still taste pretty good to me though, and you’re not going to get me to back down on that.”

“Fair enough” she said with a chuckle.  “So let’s get back to business.  As I was saying, you handled that situation well.  Sure, you were scared.  Who wouldn’t be scared?  But you thought your way through it and responded appropriately.  I think that says a lot about where you are at now.”

“Well, I wish I could say that I had it all under control, but I mostly pulled it out of my rear.”

“All the better, as I see it.  You weren’t reading a script.  You had to think and act under pressure to avert something very bad from happening, and you did just that, when all’s said and done.”

“Yeah, I guess I sort of did.  Huh!  I didn’t think of it like that.”

“And this brings me to your next face-off with a different game warden, so to speak.”

“You mean this Sunday, I think.”

“Yes, exactly.  You are going to be going into that meeting with exactly as much preparation for what could happen as you had last weekend up in the mountains.  What is Maureen going to say to you?”

“Uh, I don’t know.  Was that a real question?”

“Yes, Charlie.  I’m serious here.  What is she going to say to you, and how is she going to react when she sees you?  Will she be civil?  Will she be hostile?  Will she be interested in your life?  Or will she care if you live at all?”

“Well heck, I don’t know.  We didn’t seem to hate each other when we separated, although I came to believe that she did as time passed.  How would I know what to expect?”

“That’s exactly my point Charlie.  The situation is the same as it was in the forest with your two friends and the game warden.  You didn’t see any of that coming but you thought it out, and quickly, I might add, and you managed a very touchy situation.  I know that your meeting with Maureen and Jack could be difficult.  Not that it WILL be difficult, but it certainly COULD be.  But you were the cool head where traumatized men with big handguns were about to shoot or be shot.  Don’t you think that you might be able to handle this situation just as well?”

“Jeez, I don’t know.  Yeah, I suppose, maybe.  It is different though, don’t you think?”

“Yes, it certainly is” D’Andra agreed.  “Just like what happened last weekend was different from anything else that you’ve ever done.  I’m not saying that the same response, or any other rehearsed response, is going to work some sort of miracles next Sunday.  I’m only pointing out that you’ve shown the ability to keep some level of your cool under the most stressful conditions.  I don’t know how you’ll act next Sunday and I can’t tell you what to say or what to expect.  I can only remind you that you did as good a job in that forest of directing events away from a bad ending as any I’ve ever heard of, and I have no good reason to believe that you are likely to lose any of those skills in the next five days.”

Charlie sat back in the love seat to think about that while D’Andra got up and went into the kitchen.  She made another small pot of coffee and puttered with things for a few minutes, allowing Charlie time to process what she had told him.  When she returned she handed him a fresh cup of coffee and took his empty cup back into the kitchen.  Charlie knew that she was giving him time to think, and he made the best of it that he could.  After a few minutes she returned to her chair.

“So Charlie” she began.  “How is your new job status working out?”

Charlie spent the next few minutes telling her about how much he now enjoyed working.  “I’ll soon be renovating an apartment building that I built nearly fifteen years ago” he said.  “My boss, Carolyn, is busy every day scouting for new properties to buy, fix up, and turn.  She has a wonderful business sense, and I fill in the actual construction angle.  We make a pretty good team, if I do say so myself.  I’ve sort of inherited a crew, and I’m calling people I used to know in order to keep them busy.  I’d like keep them together if I can.  Carolyn’s also looking for raw land so that she can build from the ground up.  I’ve told her that I’ll help her to navigate any parts of that that seem tricky to her; I used to do it a lot a few years back.”

That sounds wonderful, Charlie.  I can see by the light that shines through your eyes when you talk about it that you really love your work.  It’s a very good thing when they pay you to do what you want to do anyway.”And it sounds like you are getting on very well with your boss.  Have you had any trouble reporting to somebody instead of being at the top of the heap?

“Carolyn’s almost not like a boss” Charlie began and his eyes lit up a bit brighter.  “She’s as smart as can be, but also very kind.  She’s already demonstrated that she’ll give a down-and-out sucker a break – which is what she did for me – but she won’t stand for anything underhanded.  Yes, I like working for her just fine.”

D’Andra sat silently, nodding her head a little as if listening to some far-off music.  Charlie didn’t know exactly how to interpret the silence, and began searching for something that she was perhaps waiting to hear.  At last he said “I think that we might be starting to build a relationship.  I like her very much, and I think she has sent signals that she feels the same way.  No, I know that she’s sent those signals.  I’m just not sure what to do next.”

D’Andra was surprised by that, and Charlie thought “She must have been silent for some other reason.  Oh well, I’ve opened that up, so let’s dive in.”

     “Well, Charlie.  That is a nice surprise” she said.  “I wish you well in this.”  She sat silent for a moment longer and then continued.  “How does that affect your thoughts about seeing Maureen?”

Charlie wasn’t at all surprised by the question, since he had been asking himself that all week.  “I think it helps, sort of.  I mean, I never had any intention of trying to renew my relationship with Maureen, but the thought of sitting face-to-face with a woman who I once loved, and maybe still do in some fashion, who now might wish that I would lay down and die, really puts a brick in my gut.  I think this gives me a little confidence as I go into the meeting.”

“So reconciliation with Maureen is definitely off of the table?”

“Well, uh, yes, I think so.  I mean, we separated and then divorced and all.  It’s not like I don’t sometimes think about what we did – I mean, I did – wrong, and how we might never have come to where we are if I had done this or that thing differently.  And yes, sometimes I daydream about being back there and re-doing things, and how it could now be with us still together.  But the truth is that I just don’t see anything like that happening.”

“And what if that turns out to be what she wants, Charlie?  What if her present coolness warms up when she sees that the man she once loved, who is the father of her son, is now trying to see the world more clearly and is more attuned to the needs of others, including her son?  What if, at some point in the process, she tells you, one way or the other, that she wants to put your family back together?”

“You think that I should do that?” Charlie asked.

“It’s not for me to think that you should do one thing or the other” she replied.  “But it is my job to point out that this could happen in order to prepare you for that possibility.”

“Hmmm” Charlie mused.  “I’ll have to think about that.  I mean, it’s one thing to build daydream scenarios in my mind and another to deal with the possibility that they could happen.  I suppose that, for Jack’s sake if for no other reason, I would do what I had to do.”

“Now remember, I’m not suggesting that any such thing will happen.  I’m only warning you that it could so that you can take some time and think about the possibility and how you can react in such a case to create the greatest happiness for yourself while discharging your responsibilities to your son and ex wife.  I don’t know where the intersection of those two things lies, or that if anything like that is even remotely likely to happen.  I only want to suggest that you should begin thinking about it before you meet with them this Sunday.  That way you won’t be completely flat-footed when that, or anything else that’s completely unexpected, comes your way.”

“Yes, I guess I should” Charlie agreed.  “I hadn’t seriously thought about any such possibility. It’s beyond my wildest daydreams.  Whoo, boy!”

“Well, I wish you success, however it goes.  I would love to continue this with you but I’m afraid that I must prepare for another client.  Charlie, you have shown that you can operate during a crunch.  You are getting your mind and heart on the same page and are facing your life with clarity and confidence that warms the heart of this counselor.  I don’t have any doubt that you will be kind and thoughtful this Sunday.  I will be praying for you and look forward to seeing you next Wednesday.”

She rose up out of her chair and Charlie, taking his cue, moved Salome off of his lap and arose as well.  D’andre walked with him to the door and, standing there with the sun pouring in through the open door, gave him a big, warm hug.  Charlie was beginning to get the hang of this new hugging thing and returned her embrace gladly.

Walking towards his truck, Charlie remembered previous times that he’d walked down the concrete path; times when he was afraid of what was coming next or uncomfortable with what had just happened.  Today he simply felt like he was prepared for whatever might come his way this day and the week to come.  It felt good, and Charlie was thankful for it.

He drove to the remodel projects that were rapidly being concluded.  The unfinished driveway had already been poured and was curing.  Lester had the crew spread out among the three houses and had all of the close to completion.

“You going to keep us busy next week?” he asked Charlie.  “Or am I going to have to look for work?”

“I’ve got an apartment building that needs a facelift; nothing big that I know of but it’ll keep you together until I get something bigger.  I’ve got friends with backlogs and Carolyn may find out today about a couple of remodels in Fruit Valley and maybe some new construction in Felida.  I’m going over to her house when I leave here.  Now, let’s see what’s to be done around here that needs the master’s touch.”

Charlie only stayed for an hour.  Everything that needed to be done could be done by the crew, and they didn’t need to be tripping over Charlie.  At last he unstrapped his tool belt and said goodbye to Lester and Frank.  “They’re probably glad to get me out of their hair” he thought.

He drove to Carolyn’s house but she wasn’t home.  “Dang” he thought.  “I should have called.”  He fired up his truck and thought “What now?”  In no time at all the image of his garden entered his mind.  It had been three days since he had last been there, and he knew that it would need to be watered.  Weeds were no longer much of a problem, so it shouldn’t take long to do what needed to be done.  To his surprise, Rachael was there already.

“Isn’t it a little early for you?” he shouted as he went through the chain link gate into the garden area.

“Speak for yourself” Rachael shouted back.  “Aren’t you supposed to be building the Empire State Building or something?”

“Supposed to” he replied.  “But I’m so good that now they just build themselves when I tell ‘em to.”

“I’m sure that they do” Rachael said with a laugh.  “Just leave this garden open, if it’s not too much to ask.  We need one space in Vancouver without a building on it.”

“Ohhhh, it’s the evil contractor now!  Let’s make this a politics-free zone, OK?”  Rachael laughed again and threw dirt clod at his feet, making sure that she missed by a wide margin.

Charlie fell to his work, and using a bucket to water only the hills in which his plants were growing he had the twenty by twenty foot plot watered in less than a half hour.  He returned to the truck and brought back several plastic grocery bags which he proceeded to fill with squash, cucumbers, tomatoes, onions, tomatillos, peppers and green beans.  He brought his bounty under the canopy and sat down in the shade.  Pulling out his phone, he called Carolyn.  She answered on the second ring.

“Hi Charlie” she said, and without allowing him to say anything she asked “Are you going to be free in an hour?”

“I’m free right now” he answered.  “Do you need something?”

“Not right now, but I have something that I need your help with at four.  It’s bigger than anything that I have ever done, but it looks like a good deal – no, make that a great deal – if I have it figured right.  Can you meet me at the corner of Walston and 148th over near Orchards?”

“I’ll be there” Charlie said, and hung up.  He sat in his chair, staring off into the distance and wondering what big deal Carolyn might be working on.  She was an ambitious person, he thought, who intended to make it in the world on her own terms.  Charlie saw a little of his old self in her; the drive, the focus on the goal, the way she efficiently cut away what wasn’t working to her advantage.

“I don’t know if I entirely like that” Charlie said to himself.  “That didn’t work out  so well for me.”  

“What did you say?” Rachael asked, and Charlie jumped half out of his chair.  “Oh, I’m sorry.  I thought you saw me coming.”

Charlie clutched at his chest and looked up at the sky, or at least at the canopy above his head, and said “Here I come, Elizabeth.  It’s the big one!”

“Rachael sat down and said “I really am sorry.  I didn’t mean to startle you. You were really engrossed in something, weren’t you?”

“Yeah, I guess I was.  I have quite a few things on my plate to chew on and it’s got me using brain cells that haven’t had much exercise lately.”

“I hope it’s good stuff” Rachael said.

“Mostly it is” Charlie replied.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Rachael said, and then followed that with “Oh, I’m sorry again!  Sometimes it’s hard to leave work behind.  Your business is your business.”

“Thanks for that” Charlie said.  “But now that I think of it, I think I might like to hear your thoughts on something I’ve been thinking about.  Not as a counselor, but as a friend.”

“OK” Rachael said.  “Shoot.”

“Here goes” he began, but held up his hand and said “One moment though.  I can’t afford to get lost in this.”  He pulled out his phone and set the time to go off in forty minutes.  “There.  I don’t want to keep my boss waiting.  OK.  So, I’m seeing my son and ex wife this Sunday.  I think I’ve told you that earlier.”

“Yes, you did.”

“Well, D’Andra has me thinking of something that hadn’t occurred to me before, not seriously, anyway, which is what if Maureen wants to reconcile and renew our family?  I don’t think that there’s a snowball’s chance in hell that such a thing could ever happen, and I don’t even know if I want any such thing to happen.  But what if it does?”

Rachael digested that for a minute and then asked Charlie  “Would that be such a bad thing?”

It was Charlie’s turn to be silent and think.  At length he said “Yes and No.  I’ll start with the ‘No.’  Maureen is a good person; a good woman.  We have many good memories together, more than we have bad ones.  We have a son, and it’s likely that he would do better having two parents at home.  No, I could do a lot worse than to finish my life with Maureen.”

Charlie waited another moment, then took in a deep breath and exhaled.  “And then there’s the ‘Yes.’  There’s more good than bad between us, but that bad is one big mother.  We were split before by it and I wonder, am I really so different now?  Am I really that much stronger now?  Would it just rise up out of its grave in time and bite us again, and this time even harder?  You know, that bear’s sleeping;  I’m not so sure that I want to poke him.”

Rachael thought about what he had said and prepared to speak, but Charlie cut her off by continuing.  “And then there’s Carolyn.”

“What about Carolyn?”

“Well, I’m pretty sure that we have the start of a relationship going on.  At least, I’ve found that I’m attracted to her and I think she’s pretty openly returned signals that she feels the same.  Renewing relations with Maureen would require switching gears that would be painful to imagine.  Of course, there’s no evidence at all;  AT ALL, that Maureen is interested in any such thing.  And when you stop to think about it, I might have just been imagining that Carolyn feels like I think that she does.  Really, right now I don’t know my butt from a hole in the ground, and I’m just trying to figure things out.”

They sat silently together under the canopy, both lost in thought.  The traffic on Garland Boulevard two blocks away from the garden made a muffled rumble of background noise but it was strangely serene inside the chain link fence.  Bees and other pollinators buzzed and flitted from flower to flower, sometimes passing close enough to be heard.  A hawk that was nesting in the fir tree in a neighboring yard flew by, possibly carrying some unlucky squirrel or rabbit to its chicks.

Charlie noticed the movement and thought about the lack of disruption to the garden by the rabbits that were so prevalent in the city.  No doubt the presence of a hawk that was looking to provide for it’s hungry family was responsible for the absence of bunny depredations here.  Rachael at last broke the silence.

“Charlie, I’m not going to give you advice.  I’m going to tell you what I feel in my gut, but I don’t expect for your to do anything just because I say so.”

Rachael fell silent again, thinking of how to express her thoughts.  Charlie waited patiently for her to continue, and at last she spoke again.

“Reconciliation is at the heart of my faith.  Now remember, I’m not preaching to you.  This is what I think about your situation and it is grounded in my worldview; my plausibility framework, whatever you want to call it.  I believe that the world was created perfectly and then it got screwed up.  You can literally believe in an Adam and an Eve or you can believe that they are a myth or a metaphor.  Either way, things got thrown out of whack and God has been putting things back together ever since; been reconciling a broken world with Himself.  How that plays out from one situation to another I don’t really know, but I have to believe that if reconciliation with your wife is possible, and the restoration of your family could be realized, then that is the path that God would want for you to take.

     Now, I’m not saying that you should do that.  ‘Should’ isn’t a part of this.  I’m not throwing my Bible at you.  God loves you and Maureen and Jack and, what’s her name?  Carolyn?  OK.  God loves you all and will love you no matter how this works out.  And I believe that God will show you the right and best course to take when the time comes.  Not that you have to take that course or lightening bolts will fall out of the sky and cook you up like a burnt french fry.  He’ll just show you the right decision to make.  Then it’s up to you.”

“But what if I don’t believe in your god.  Why would he care one way or the other what I do?  And if there is a god, where was he when my Stevie was drowning?”

“He cares because he created you.  He loves His creation.  Did your daughter always do what you wanted?”  Charlie shook his head in the negative.  “And did you stop loving her because of that?”  Charlie shook his head again.

“And even if you don’t believe in God, I’m willing to bet that you hope there’s a heaven and that your daughter is there.  Even after her death you still love your daughter and want the best for her.  Do you think a good God who created you loves you any less?”

“Do you think Stevie’s in heaven?” Charlie asked.  “I mean, if there is such a place?  We never went to church or anything.”

“I don’t know, but I think its very likely that she is.”

“But what about all of the rules?  We never followed any of them that I know of.”

“How do you know if you did or didn’t?  And besides, it’s not really about a bunch of rules that for the most part people have made up for themselves.  You know, ’I don’t smoke and I don’t chew and I don’t go with girls that do.’  There’s a story about sheep and goats that might help you, but I’m not teaching Sunday School here.  I’m just telling you what I think, and that is that God loves you and everyone involved in your situation and will lead you to what is best if you will pay attention, and that reconciliation is at the center of His heart.”

They fell silent again and this time the silence lasted until the chimes announced that it was time to go and meet with Carolyn.  Charlie pressed the button that shut off the alarm, and then they both stood up.  Charlie felt like he was picking up an extra hundred pounds, and Rachael could see that he was weighted down by new concerns.

She put a hand on his shoulder and said “Remember Charlie, that the focus here is on Jack.  You began this by realizing that you want to be reconciled with him.  All of the other stuff can come later, but he’s the focus right now.  Maybe that’s a little of my professional angle leaking into this, but that boy needs not just a father but a Dad, and I think you need him too.  Keep your eye on the ball, Charlie.  Keep the main thing the main thing, and worry about the rest later.”

She gave Charlie his second hug of the day, and Charlie clung to her embrace as if he was holding onto hope.  At last they separated.  Charlie leaned over and picked up his sacks of vegetables.  “Would you pray for me?” he asked.

“I already am” Rachael replied.

 

A Story of Divorce

I enjoy telling stories orally and that has led me to take up the pen and write down some of the stories of my life.  I usually try to inject humor into my tales and that is not an especially hard thing to do as there is almost always humor in life if we will only look around and try to find it.  There are times and events however which admit to no humor.  Our lives can take dark and painful turns which we never see coming and demonstrate to us that life can be a fragile and unpredictable thing, subject to pressures which crush the spirit and leave you just trying to get out of bed in the morning and make it through another day.  I have experienced these times, as have most people, and I will now write about one of them. In February of 1976 my wife, whom I will call Clarice since I believe that in reality I do not personally know anyone by that name, announced to me her desire that we should separate.  I had sensed a growing distance between us but believed that it would pass and we would somehow get back on our usual track.  With this announcement I now saw that the rupture of our relationship was much worse than I had previously thought it to be.  I didn’t say much, but instead went outside into the cold winter evening in Northern California to get my thoughts straight.  After a while I returned to our house and we talked about the issue. “It would only be a separation” she said.  “Just to see if things could get worked out between us.”  The thought gave me some hope although in fact that hope was pure fantasy, a straw clutched at by a drowning man.  “Would you see other guys while we are apart?”  “Sure.  I’m not going to become a nun.  You would be able to see other women too”.  I had no interest in doing the dating rat race and the thought of Clarice with someone else made my stomach turn.  “Can we at least agree to not be with other people until we are actually separated?” I asked.  She agreed to this, and the date of June 1 was set for our separation. I immediately stopped the construction work that I had been doing for ten to fourteen hours per day, sometimes seven days per week, and found a part time job that gave me a good deal more free time to try to mend fences with Clarice.  This did little good however because Clarice was gone most of the day.  She worked part time also and was part of a local actors group, and was always rehearsing or taking singing lessons or doing something or other which kept her away from our home for most of the day.  I rested on our agreement, however, and hoped that something would change before the agreed-upon separation date arrived. One of the things that I did in my new-found spare time was to reconnect with a lot of my college friends.  With my ‘now’ descending into a depressing progression of one empty day leading into another as our separation date approached I reached out to those who were my companions in happier and more care-free earlier times.  On one day I happened to be at a house rented by a couple whom I knew when we lived in the same apartment complex at school.  There were some other people there, and we drank a few beers and smoked a joint or two, and being highly gregarious I just naturally ended up talking with a complete stranger. We both exuded a melancholy air and ended up listening to Aretha Franklin records and telling each other our blues as Aretha sang her own.  This guy, whom I’ll call Eugene, was telling me of the breakup which he was in the middle of with his girlfriend.  I listened with great sympathy and then began to tell him of my situation.  “My wife, Clarice, works at such and such a place, and is involved in such and such activities,” I explained.  “We’re separating next month and I hate it.  At least we’re staying faithful to each other.  I can at least feel good about that.” Eugene looked at me in a funny way, but I was a little bit stoned and drunk, and was deep in my sadness so it didn’t register with me at all.  Finally he asked “what did you say your wife’s name is?”  “Clarice Durden” I responded.  Eugene sat for a minute, looking out of the window at the chickens scratching at bugs in the dirt of the fenced yard outside.  In another minute he asked “Where did you say she works”.  “She works at the college” I replied, still unprepared for what was coming.  Eugene sat for another minute, sipping his beer and looking out of the window, and then he put on another Aretha record.  “There’s something I got to tell you man.” Eugene went on to tell me of the relationship that Clarice was already in with another man.  I said that it couldn’t be true, but Eugene knew too many names, facts, dates and descriptions.  I sat in my chair like a pig that had just been whacked in the head with a sledge hammer.  Lisa, one of the couple who lived at the house, saw what was going on and came over to thump Eugene in the back of the head.  “What are you doing man?  They were going to be separated in another month and he would never have to know about that shit!”  “A man deserves to know this kind of thing” he responded.  “It’s not right that she’s making a fool of him”. Well, Eugene was partly right.  I did have a right to know.  As for a man deserving to know more than a woman in the same situation, I don’t think so.  I would tell a friend anyway.  As for the part about being made a fool of, well, I was pretty much doing a good job of that all by myself.  The signals, if I wasn’t as naive as a six-year-old, were all there to be read.  I just didn’t want to read them.  Now, a perfect stranger had just pointed out to me that I was the last person in the entire county to know what was going on. I went home right after that and sat in my kitchen until Clarice returned several hours later.  She entered the house as she usually did with a cheerful greeting, but I confronted her with what I had heard right away.  Clarice denied it, but I could finally see the truth in her face.  She continued to deny the relationship and at last I said “If you won’t tell me the truth I’ll take my .38 and get the truth out of your boyfriend”.  I actually called him something other than that, with a few adjectives thrown in for good measure.  I didn’t really own a .38 or any other type of firearm and wouldn’t have dreamed of using one if I did, but Clarice wasn’t sure about that, so she admitted at last to the affair to prevent a possible murder. I was crushed.  I went into the garage and pounded my fist onto a 2 X 4 handrail and roared my pain in inarticulate sounds.  Clarice just sat down in a kitchen chair and didn’t move until I finally returned.  I had nothing to say; nothing that would have made any sense.  I told her I was going to bed, and I actually showered and got into bed.  I was running on automatic pilot, not thinking because my brain was imploding.  I had only programmed routine to keep me sane. That last night that we spent in the same building together we had sex.  As I said, I had lost the ability to put one coherent thought together with another.  Routine took over while my mind retreated to some distant and protected place where the teeth and claws of a now-malevolent present life could not be able to reach it and finish the job that it had begun of driving me over the edge.  Finally, exhausted with grief, I passed into a fitful sleep. Early the next morning I arose, dressed myself, threw a number of clothes and personal items into a backpack and a couple of shopping bags and drove my Ford pickup down the gravel drive to the street and finally onto the highway, with my home behind me and nothing that I was certain of before me.  I decided that I would first go to see an old college roommate who was now caretaker at a rural volunteer fire department nearby.  Driving down the road my Ford sputtered and died.  This was not the first time that this had happened, but on this occasion my frustration was magnified two hundred percent.  I rolled to a stop on the shoulder of the road and walked a short way to an offramp.  Down the offramp was a store where I got some change so that I could call my dad from a phone booth in the parking lot.  My mother was away visiting her relatives in Kentucky and Dad was alone when he answered. “Dad, I just left home” was all I could say before I was blubbering incoherentely.  My father, who would never be described as a sensitive, new age sort of guy, listened patiently as his youngest son broke down on the phone.  After I regained some composure we talked for a bit, and Dad said to call when I needed to; every day if that’s what it took.  That was exactly what it took.  I called Dad each day for a month.  When I hung up on that first morning I returned to the truck, which fired up immediately, and I completed my trip to the fire station, where a sofa in the recreation room would be my home for the next four days. This all happened in May, and I quarterbacked our divorce proceedings through the courts in August.  We remained friends, oddly enough, and I harbor no resentment towards Clarice to this day.  We had no business being married at all, let along to each other.  Neither one of us had a successful model of marriage in our lives and our chances of making a marriage work were doomed from the start.  I had no idea of what a spouse is supposed to bring to a marriage and neither did Clarice, although we both had fantasies which unfortunately turned out to be contradictory.  Probably the only maturity that either of us showed in the whole of our relationship was in refusing to let the separation and divorce descend into rancour ( know that the word is properly spelled ‘rancor’, but adding the ‘u’ makes it seem,well,British, and adds to the effect I think).  It took me about three months before I laughed again.  I know this because it was pointed out to me by one of my new roommates.  It was a year before I could sit in a bar or restaurant and not sink deeper into depression as I sank deeper into my cups. I finally remarried, as did she.  My second marriage has lasted for quite a few decades now.  Clarice’s lasted a couple of years, but then she left him to marry someone new and stayed with him to the end of his life; several decades later.  I must admit, and it is petty of me, that I derive some pleasure that the man for whom Clarise left me got to enjoy some of his own medicine.  I know that I shouldn’t, but I hope it hurt.  If I have a moral to this story it is that marriage is not to be entered into lightly and never to be taken for granted once the vows are said.  Those who are successfully married have an obligation, I think, to model their marriage to those who might otherwise walk blindly into a meat grinder that, if you are not prepared for it, can turn your heart into sausage and make your soul a prison of pain.  But I didn’t write this to moralize; I’m just telling a story.