A Note Before Bed

Brenda just left.

She came over after work today. We had plenty of food, I invited her to share dinner with us.

She is wearing her wedding ring.

I’m not.

She wanted to do the dishes. I said no. She pushed it. I was adamant. She was irritated, but complied.

Isaac asked what that was about.

“Chores are for people who live here,” I told him.

We went over the bills. Wrote out a couple of checks.

We needed to talk. Went out for a couple of drinks.

On the way she was hinting at us getting back together... I remained silent.

“I don’t think we can make it,” I told her when we were at a table.

“I need... I need... I truly NEED a wife I can trust. I can’t be married to someone who can’t go anywhere she likes without my wondering what she is up to. I don’t think I can ever trust you.”

We talked about divorce.

“You’re right,” she said. “You probably can’t trust me. And you deserve more than that.”

We talked about paper work, and checking accounts, and home equity, and titles on vehicles and all sorts of entanglements which happen when two people have shared their lives for nearly three decades.

We talked about being fair, about health insurance, and a home equity line of credit, and caring for the boys.

“I hate this. I wanted you to be my wife all of my life. I wanted a partner. But it can’t happen now.”

“You’re right. I think I was forcing you to do this because I didn’t have the guts to do it myself.”

“Yeah. I kept forgiving you. Letting you come back. That made it easier for you to treat me the way you have this past year. I should have done this when I first learned of the affair. I think you were surprised when I said this is it for real. “

“Yeah. I was. But it should have happened a long time ago. I have really treated you badly. I have been mean. I am so sorry.”

“Me too.”

We are really going to do this. We are getting a divorce.

I told her I thought John lacks integrity.

I told her I have tried to get to a place where I might be able to talk to him, treat him like a fellow human being, love him, forgive him. But I also said that I’m just not there yet. I want to be that big, I want to have that large of a heart, but I can’t do it yet. I’ve thought about it. I have prayed for him.

But I don’t trust myself to be able to talk to him and control my emotions.

She isn’t sure what she will do, but supposes that she will end up moving back in with him.

“It’s none of my business, but I think that would be a mistake. You would be starting a relationship with this guy with all this mess in it. That isn’t a good way to begin. I can’t tell you what to do, but my advice to you, as someone who loves you, is you get your own place, start fresh.”

“I think if you knew him you would see he has a lot of good qualities.”

“Whatever... If he had such good qualities he would have insisted on an exclusive relationship with you. He wouldn’t have been letting you come and go.”

“All he ever said, always, was that I should make the choice that was best for me. He never pushed me. He said he just wanted me to be happy.”

“That’s a crock. That does not absolve him of his responsibilities here. (Mockingly:) ‘Oh... you make what ever choices are good for you. I just want you to be happy. This isn't my responsibility, my fault. It is all your choice.’

“He was a married man sleeping with a married woman! It doesn’t matter that his marriage was a mess, that it was over. If he had any integrity he would have insisted you choose. Just as I did. He is not a man of character.”

“Then I guess I’m not either.”

“Yeah, you have a lot of flaws too.”

“Then maybe that makes us a good match.”

“Just because two people have the same flaws does not mean they are good for each other.

“Look, this conversation is taking a bad turn. Let’s not talk about John. Maybe someday, but for now, I don’t want to talk about him. If you do go back to him, I don’t want you to introduce our boys to him. And I don’t want him in my home. If you have to move stuff, get your brother, or I’ll get some of my friends to help you, but he is not going to step into that house. At least not in the foreseeable future. Some day I want to be kind to him, love him the way I’m supposed to love everybody, even my enemies. But today I can’t do it.

“Brenda, I love you. I want you to be happy. I think you are self destructive and you need to get well. I wish you the best. I think we can be good friends. We just can’t be married.”

“I think you are right.”

She wants to help with the boys. I think that is good.

She asked about her mom still coming to church with us. I said I really want that. I want her to remain their grandma.

She suggested I take a weekend away before school starts, just me.

And I think that is a good idea.

So, not this weekend, but the weekend after, I am going to take off for a couple of days and she will stay with the kids.

“I’d like to still go to church with all of you once in a while.”

That surprised me.

“I wouldn’t have to sit right next to you, but once in a while I’d like to go with you and the boys and mom.”

“I think that might be good. Yeah. I want to get to a place where we are friends and help each other and I really think you are very damaged inside. I’d like to see you in church. OK. But... let’s wait until after the divorce. Then we aren’t there as a separated man and wife, but as two people sharing our children and growing closer to God.”

“That sounds good.”

We are going to clean this up, end it.

When we came home I suggested she come in and say good night to the boys. And just before we went in... She looked at me, tears in her eyes.

“Come here,” I said.

She came.

I hugged her deeply. A long hard hug.

“I love you,” I told her. “And I forgive you. Completely and forever.”

She burst into tears.

“Thank you, oh thank you Will. I don’t deserve it.”

She came in. Said good night to the boys.

She gave me one last hug before she left.

The conversation at The Spinning Wheel’s bar was sad, and a relief, and awkward, and sweet, and hard, and all sorts of things.

But, we are friends. We will treat each other fairly.

She understands now the boundaries she needs to keep, and the role I want her to continue in the lives of our kids.

What a mess.

But...

It’s going to be OK.

I just posted something else... and I want to look this post over a bit tomorrow before throwing it on the blog pile.

But I wanted to get these thoughts down before I went to bed.

-------------------

It's a little bit after 7:00 a.m. The above post was saved as a draft at 11:46 last night.

About 3:30 this morning I heard the dog get up... his tail whacking the wall in the dining room. Somebody he loves was here.

"Brenda? Is that you?"

She came in (I had left the front door unlocked).

She was crying.

"Can I tell you something?"

"Of course."

"I have really screwed things up. I am so sorry. I know it is too late. That it is over. But I haven't been able to sleep, and I just wanted to tell you how I am so sorry for what I have done to you. I was feeling guilty, and ashamed and I kept doing bad things. I was using my anger to justify what I was doing. I have been wrong and I am all screwed up. Could I give you a hug?"

"Come here."

I held her for a little while.

"Thank you for coming and telling me this. I am sorry you are in this spot. I'm sorry we are going through this. Divorce isn't something I wanted. But I don't see any other way for it now."

"I know. You're right. You have given and forgiven me more than I deserve. You deserve better. Would you pray for me? Can we pray?"

"Sure... Heavenly Father, my Lord, I lift my wife up to you. She is hurting, as we all are. I ask you, Lord, to draw near to her, to help her open her heart to you. She and I are going through a real mess right now, she's confused, scared. I pray that you wash her clean inside. I pray You humble her and draw near and fill her up. Guide her Lord..."

"Father, I know I don't deserve anything, but I pray You will help my husband. I pray You'll help the boys as we go through all this. Please forgive me."

"Lord, thank you for my kids, thank you for this moment when Brenda is looking at herself, her life. Help her, I pray. Amen."

"Amen."

She asked if she could just sleep a little there with me.

I said OK.

The alarm went off at 5:30. I went to the church to pray.

I came back at 7:00. She was up, getting ready to leave.

"I don't know how to say this well, but there is something I should tell you," I said.

"As far as I am concerned, we are getting a divorce and it needs to be at least underway by the time I go back to work in September.

"I don't want you to think that I am trying to hold out any false hope to you, but I can see you are torn, that you want to come back.

"But I don't trust you. Even if you seem to turn completely around, be reborn, I can easily imagine you slipping back again in a few months. I can't take that again. The boys can't take that again.

"I'm not saying it is impossible for us to save our marriage. And I don't want you to think that I am setting out steps for you to find your way back. That if you do this, and this, and that, and jump through the right hoops you can work your way back.

"The only way our marriage could be saved is if you become someone new. And not just evidence of your having done it, but such a clear, clean transformation that it is clear you have been remade by God. A true miracle.

"I think you need to look inside, look for God. I don't think you can ask me how to find Him. I can give you advice, but I think this is your journey.

"If you want help, want advice, want to talk to someone about the mess that is inside you and get help, prayer, I think you should talk to some of the women in our church. Talk to Rxxxx. Talk to Cxxxxx. Talk to Cxxxxxxx. I know Cxxxxx would shoot straight with. Slap you up side the head."

"I'm a little afraid of Cxxxxx right now."

"You should be. She won't cut you any slack. But you need to get well. Not in the hopes we can save our marriage. I'm really unsure if that can happen. But you need the Lord in your life. Talk to people who can help you find Him."

"Yeah. Maybe I will. Well, I've got to go. I need to get ready for work. Thank you for letting me stay her for a bit last night. I think those couple of hours was the best sleep I have had in months."

"You're welcome. I love you. I just can't live with you. And coming over like you did last night. That can't keep happening. This is my home now. I need to feel secure here with guiding my kids, my future. I want you to get better. "

"I know. I understand."

She left.

I sat down and wrote this post script.

I don't know why my life has been so strange. The things of my childhood. The events of the last 28 years. This past year, this past bad year. I've had two bad years in my life. This last one, and the year after Willy died.

I feel good about staying firm with Brenda. That even though she is saying the right things, showing evidence of repentance and seeking what is right, I have remained clear that I see this divorce as real.

What a mess.

When I went to pray this morning there was the most dramatic clouds catching the light from the rising sun. I'm not suggesting it is a metaphor for my life, about new beginnings or anything like that. But it was beautiful. It made me feel good.

Beauty is like that. Even when things are a mess, the fact that I am of a species that can appreciate that, sense God through my appreciation of beauty, it is a little gift I am grateful for.