The first and most poignant time I remember was one Christmas at my mother’s. I must have been about 27 years old. I had brought my 5 year live-in boyfriend home to Minnesota from New York City for the holidays again, and he was out shoveling the newly fallen snow off my mother’s driveway. A novel exercise for him. I sat inside and stared at him out the window, complete with the new shiner, yes, black eye, he had given me less than a week before. Not novel for me anymore. He hadn’t started to hit me until we were together 5 years, and as with most newly abused women, it simply did not compute with me. What was happening? Why had I become so abusable?
I watched him out there shoveling and sadly wondered aloud, “I wonder what life will be like a year from now.”
My mother pulled up in her car, thrilled to be surprised by our early arrival, and by his “generosity,” as being originally from the Middle East, he had certainly never shoveled snow before. She jumped out of her car, threw her arms around him in a big hug as he lifted her tiny little person off the ground in an exuberant greeting. This my brother caught on camera – I still have the photo. They had a great, shallow flirtation going on since they first met. That was my mother, and that certainly was Robert. Big flirts.
My mother came in and found me sitting by the window, gave me a big hug from behind, then turned and took me by the chin to look at my face. Honestly, I was so tired that I just didn’t even bother to say anything, much less to recite the complicated story I had concocted to cover the telltale signs of a smack to the face.
She stepped back, looked to the floor and shook her head. When she finally looked back at me she said, “He’d make a terrible husband…” then looked back out the window at him said, “…but he’d make a great son-in-law!”
Merry Christmas, right? (See many former posts on my mother.)
A year later, Robert and I were through and I was newly clean and sober.
This is also one of the most poignant reminders I have that life changes. It always changes and, if nothing else, on that I can rely.
Today’s wondering was triggered by my attempt to pay my bills. An avid, on-time bill payer, I’ve learned quite a bit of humility in the last few years since the humongous downturn of my economic standing from married middle class professional to single welfare mom. The truth today is that I’m not going to pay the full amounts and they’re not always going to be on time. And while that may not be the truth a year from now, it was much, much worse and year ago.
What’s different today than a year ago? I know that I still have my house and I have my new Making Home Affordable mortgage in place. Last year I was in foreclosure. I have a job, albeit a part-time one, but I didn’t have a job a year ago. My daughter is able to collect SSDI from my ex’s catastrophe, whereas we had no income at this time last year. My ex-husband was going blind and still fed by a stomach tube a year ago. Today he is a seeing man who chews and swallows almost as good as the next fellow. I could stop and smell the roses today on my walk home from the post office. A year ago I didn’t even know there were roses in the neighborhood. A year ago I found laughter painful, even when I felt it to be true. Today I think I easily laugh more than I ever have.
I must take this time regularly to compare myself to myself, as I’m the only one I can truly compete with fairly. Life has not been easy, definitely not, and sometimes I think that if karma is real, then in my last life I must have been Henry VIII or someone else who lacked any kind of humility and broke hearts regularly. These appear to be my lessons this life: humility and how to live through heartbreak.
I’m doing okay today, and for that I’m grateful. But it will be interesting to see where I am this time next year, yes?
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