A Thousand Words

A Thousand Words. Photo credit: Pexels - Mohan Nannapaneni
Sep 30, 2024
A bonfire has a way of bringing people together.
The fire blazed in the backyard fire pit. The flames flickered in an enchanting dance.
A warm, relaxing evening at home. Except it wasn’t.
The fire pit was old and rusty. She was afraid the burning logs would crash through the bottom when it finally gave way. There wasn’t a lot of extra money available to buy a new one.
She had come outside by herself to get away from the reality of her life. She needed a break. A break from everything. From dishes and laundry and bills and the man inside that she barley spoke to.
Trying to engage in any type of useful conversation with him seemed like a lost cause. Over the years she had learned to keep her mouth shut and say as little as possible. She knew that his response would most likely be a lie or a condescending comment. Which, she knew, was also a lie. For years she couldn’t figure out why he had married her and stayed with her if she was such a total failure. If she was the reason for all of his pain and suffering, why didn’t he just leave? He made it quite clear over and over that he would be better off without her. Then one day it hit her. She wasn’t the problem. He was.
She fell in love with him years ago. He was charming then. He treated her well.
They got married at the local courthouse. He didn’t want to spend a lot of money or have a lot of people there. Since she was fine with saving their money for more important things, she didn’t see that as an indication of who she was really marrying. They didn’t go on a honeymoon. She was fine with that too. That meant they would be able to do something special in the future with all the money they didn’t spend on a wedding or honeymoon. She was wrong.
They settled into domestic life. They both had jobs. Evenings during the week were simply dinner, dishes and unwinding from the day. Weekends were mostly chores. Do the laundry, mow the grass. Maybe go out to dinner. A few months later she came home from work to find him already there. He usually didn’t get home from work before she did. He had been laid off. She believed him then. Years later she wasn’t so sure it was a simple lay-off. He spent weeks laying on the couch for hours, barely looking for a job. He said he was still making money since he was getting unemployment. Life became a stressful, mind-numbing struggle. Working, paying the bills and doing a majority of the housework was exhausting. She cried when she found out she was pregnant. They were not tears of joy. They were tears of dread. She remembered thinking that this is no way to bring a child into the world. She didn’t even want to tell him about the baby. She remembers wondering back then if she could get a divorce fast enough that he wouldn’t even know she was pregnant until after the divorce was final. She did tell him. He surprised her by saying it was wonderful. Their first child. He vowed to get his act together and get a job. It was time to take care of his family.
They have two children now. Ages 12 and 14. Both girls. One of the many things her husband hates about her is her inability to produce a boy.
Her husband has had several jobs over the years. He just can’t seem to find one that he can stick with. He takes a nice long break between jobs and reacquaints himself with the couch.
She thinks about all of this as she sits in front of the fire. Her life. Everything that brought her to this moment. It’s amazing how clear everything is when you look backward. You can string your life together like a connect the dots puzzle. Pinpointing almost every moment and connecting it to the moments that came before and after. She can’t help but think about moments that never happened because of the decisions she’s made. If she could see the future, would she have made different choices? Would they have been better, happier? Maybe she would have just made the same choices anyway.
Her 12 year-old, Jessica, comes outside. “Mom, what are you doing?”
“Just relaxing for a bit Sweetheart.”
Jessica, now known as Jess, pulls up a chair and sits beside her. That small act was the best thing that’s happened to her all day. She chose her mom over the cell phone, the TV and the video games. Jess lays her head on her mother’s shoulder. A simple gesture that meant so much.
“What’s going on?”. It’s her 14 year-old, Stephanie. Now known as Steph.
“Family time.” Jess smiles.
Steph pulls up a chair and sits down, cell phone in hand. The fire illuminates her face more beautifully than any cell phone ever could. She doesn’t look at her phone right away. She looks at her mom and her sister. She seems to be assessing the situation. “This is nice. We should do this more often.”
“If I knew you girls would sit out here with me I would do it a lot more often.”
“Do we have any marshmallows?” Jess asks.
“There might be some in the pantry.”
Jess went inside to look and came out a few minutes later with a bag of marshmallows. “Dad wants to know what we’re doing out here.”
No response.
Within minutes the three of them were eating roasted marshmallows and laughing. Mostly at the marshmallows. The ones that caught on fire. The ones that stretched out like melting cheese and fell off the sticks. It was pure bliss. Steph had only looked at her phone once.
“Mel, everything okay?” It was her husband, standing at the half open door with his head poking out.
“Yeah Pete. We’re fine. Just roasting some marshmallows.”
“Mind if I join you?”
She tried to mask the incredulous look that she knew was on her face. His reaction told her she failed. It told her something else too. At that moment it hit her. He felt like a stranger in his own home. He looked sad and small. “Please join us.”, she replied.
“Yeah Dad, come on. It will be fun.”, Jess added.
Mel hadn’t seen a smile that genuine on her husband’s face in a long time. For the first time in years, she got a glimpse of the man she had married. He was still there, buried deep. Maybe that’s a start.