Last fall I wrote a lengthy post called “Eight things I love about Wife.” In it I listed some of the things that I had always enjoyed and admired about Wife, the things I married her for, the things on account of which I always used to say that she was the most remarkable woman I had ever known. At the time, I said and believed that it was important to show another side to her than the side I was always griping about.
But I also knew, even as I wrote the post, that in some respects it had become dated. Wife has gone through a lot of changes in the last two years, and some of those changes have involved the evaporation of the very features I used to love. What is left are features that are far less admirable. For the most part these are not new things ... she was like this too, sometimes, even in the old days. But back then they weren’t the whole story. Now, too often, they are.
Of course, every description of anybody is an oversimplification. Strictly speaking, I suppose I should allow that this picture isn’t the whole story either, that there are still glimpses of the old Wife under it all. But it is getting harder and harder to see those glimpses or remember what they were like. And I find that less and less do I have the heart to try.
To facilitate comparison with the earlier post, I have organized this one the same way; and I have set each point – except the last one – in deliberate contrast to something I said before.
Wife has become stupid. (Wife is smart.)
Wife used to be smart, really she did. So I have had a lot of trouble coming to grips with the fact that she can’t understand basic things any more ... or at any rate things that look basic to me. For years I tried to explain my emotions -- how I feel about things -- by telling stories. “It’s as if ....” And I don’t remember if it ever worked, but for the last several years it hasn’t. So I have gotten bit by bit more frustrated with my inability to communicate emotionally with Wife. A few months ago, D finally framed this for me very clearly: Wife can’t understand stories, so stop telling them.
This might be a narrow problem – maybe we just think about our feelings differently – but I don’t think so. Last March we had to reschedule a couple of appointments at the last minute, and this is what it took to do so:
It all started when I reminded her that she had an endocrinological appointment in the morning before breakfast; then Boyfriend 4 wanted to take her out to lunch, but she was in Son 2's classroom from 11-12; then Son 1 got out of school at 12:30 but our appointment with his advisor wasn't till 1:20, so what did she want to do -- pick him up, or have him come to my office [which is just down the road from his school]?
Wife: I don't know what time the appointment with his advisor is.
Hosea: The note you forwarded me said 1:20.
Wife: Yes, but I got another note from her that said 2:20. I don't know which one is right.
Hosea: Well actually the note you forwarded me said she was changing it from 2:20 to 1:20.
Wife: Yes, but I still don't know which one is right. (Oh for heaven's sake.)
Hosea: Fine, go look in your e-mail and check the timestamp of the two notes to see which one is later. Meanwhile, what do you want Son 1 to do when school lets out? (At this point Son 1 called into the room, "The appointment's at 1:20, Mom!")
It was easily another 5 minutes -- maybe closer to 10 -- before she decided that she did not want to retrieve Son 1 from school and then drive back 50 minutes later, so he should walk to my office. But then she said, "I'm really worried that the appointment might be at 2:20, because I am due in Son 2's classroom then."
Hosea: No, I already said that part -- you are there at 11 this morning, which is why you have to schedule your lunch with Boyfriend 4 around that.
Wife: Oh.
And then a couple of minutes later, when I reminded her that Son 1's sports team was having pictures taken at 4:00pm, but that should be no problem because there would be plenty of time for them to come home first so he can get into his uniform, she said, "Well I don't know if there will be plenty of time or not. I'm working in Son 2's classroom this afternoon."
Hosea: No, we already went over that part -- you are there at 11 this morning, which is why you have to schedule your lunch with Boyfriend 4 around that.
I also remarked that Son 1 got out early the next day too, at a time that conflicted with our appointment with Counselor. How did she want to handle that? Well, you would have thought I was asking her how to solve the banking crisis, for how helpless she felt. She finally -- finally! -- saw that there were only two meaningful choices: either he go to my office and wait while I'm not there (because I would be with her at Counselor's), or we cancel our appointment with Counselor. And she picked the second one. OK, so I called Counselor to cancel. But it was like pulling teeth to get that far.
I should add that it's not like those two choices weren't obvious to me before I asked the question ... but I really did want her to take a little more responsibility for thinking through questions like this, instead of just telling her what to do all the time.
Wife has no sense of humor. (Wife is funny.)
Gosh, how do I give examples of this?
Wife has never gotten along with my father, who tends to pick up ideas he heard somewhere because they look bright and shiny and then drop them into conversation to see what happens. Wife scorns him for not having any “convictions” and for changing his “beliefs” every ten minutes. “Beliefs”? Hardly ... but Wife takes them all in dead earnest. So if my dad hears some outrageous opinion on talk radio while driving home one day, she assumes that he is really, deeply committed to whatever it was. A little laughter would take her a long way here – that and an ability to stop taking herself or him all that seriously. But in 25 years she hasn’t been able to relax that much.
This dreary seriousness used to be leavened by Wife’s ability to crack smart-aleck jokes with perfect, split-second timing. And occasionally I could tease her out of a self-righteous dudgeon by a little inspired silliness. But at this point I can no longer remember the last time I heard her laugh. And laughter used to be one of the few things that could always bring us together again.
Wife is passive, whiny, and resentful. (Wife is ambitious, sometimes even cocky.)
A few days ago I posted about Wife’s chronic complaining. It really is such a normal feature of her life that I can go for weeks without even noticing it. And yet not a day goes by without her complaining about something ... usually many things, with a regularity almost like breathing. A few weeks ago, when D was visiting, we drove about two hours to visit my parents. Throughout the drive, there was a lively conversation among the boys, and D, and me; and at the same time, concurrent with this conversation, Wife kept up a running commentary sotto voce, complaining about every single thing any of us said.
What does she complain about? Often it has to do with her physical symptoms; but it could equally well be about other people, or me. Certainly she never worries about making her complaints consistent. During one extended period a few years ago, when I was out of work for something like a year and a half, Wife complained every single day about my being out of work; many times she threatened that if I didn’t have a job by ... well, the end date kept moving ... she was going to divorce me. When I finally got a job, you would think she would have celebrated. But no – the very minute I told her, she panicked immediately that I wouldn’t be able to keep carrying out all the responsibilities I had picked up around the house, and how – how on Earth? – did I think all those things were going to get done now??
What all these complaints have in common is the theme of powerlessness. Always, in her mind, Wife is a victim. There is nothing she can ever do to make things better, or to shape events. All that is left her is to be passive – as I say, a victim of forces beyond her power to control or even influence – which means she has no recourse but to complain.
Maybe another example would be useful. Over the last few days, I have been working with Wife to separate our spending, at least in part. (I talk about it here.) The basic idea is that we split common expenses proportionally to our incomes (my salary and her disability payments), but that special expenses for just one of us are paid individually. I think this basic criterion should be pretty clear, and in fact we have discussed it several times while working it out. I have tried to give a lot of examples of what I have in mind.
Last week I left on a business trip, and the night before Wife demanded, “Tell me exactly what I can buy while you are gone.”
Hosea: Huh?
Wife: I need to know exactly what I can buy for groceries.
Hosea: Buy what you like. One of the whole ideas of this system is that I won’t need to be looking over your shoulder all the time second-guessing how you spend your money.
Wife: But if I buy the wrong thing, then you are going to say it’s not a “normal” expense and you won’t pay your share of it.
Hosea: Ummm, ... what are you getting at?
Wife: We’re about out of ice cream. Am I allowed to buy ice cream, or are you going to say that’s a luxury? How about if I decide to get rocky road instead of vanilla? Are you going to refuse to pay your percentage of it? What if I decide to get hamburgers for the boys on Saturday night? Does that count as a normal Saturday night expense, or will you say that since I chose to splurge on such a treat then it’s up to me to pay it all?
Hosea: We’ve been over all this a bunch of times. I know that I have explained exactly how I envision this working. Just take what we have discussed as a guideline and then use your judgment.
Wife: But we never specifically discussed ice cream! So how am I supposed to know what you are going to do?
I should add at this point that while we hadn’t discussed ice cream explicitly, it looks obvious to me. If there is always ice cream in the freezer and we are about to run out, surely that is a normal expense. And as for the difference between vanilla and rocky road ... what are we talking about here? Pennies? How could I possibly be expected to make a fuss over that? I also know that we did explicitly discuss hamburgers for Saturday night ....
Hosea: You know, maybe you are making this too hard on yourself. Just go shopping and use your best judgment. The worst that could happen is maybe you get ... oh, I don’t know, maybe one thing that I insist is some overpriced luxury, and if I do then it’s no big deal. I’ll write you a check for my share of everything except that one jar of caviar (or whatever), and you’ll make a mental note that next time I won’t pay for caviar. No big deal, and life goes on. In the grand scheme of things, even if that’s what happens, springing for one jar of caviar on your own isn’t going to break you: you are sitting on something like $23,000 right now. It’s not like you have to turn grocery shopping into some horribly fraught experience, ... it’s not some kind of exam where you have to score 100% or suffer terrible consequences. It’s just groceries, for heaven’s sake. We can’t possibly be talking about enough dollars for you to get that worried over it ... not unless you are planning to buy a lot of caviar! [quick smile at my own pathetic joke]
Wife: But it is too a test, and I do too have to get 100% or I’m going to have to pay for everything all on my own and there’s no way I can afford to do that! And as usual this puts you in complete control of everything I do. You get to scrutinize every line on every grocery receipt and pick out the ones you think you’ll pay for and I have no say in the matter. How is that fair, anyway?
Hosea: Oh, but you do have a say. When I go out shopping, you’ll have exactly the same privilege ... if there is something crazy that I have bought that looks outrageous to you, then you don’t have to pay me your fraction of it. So it is toitally even-handed. We just have to agree on what we are buying, and if we don’t agree then the person who wants it gets to pay for it. You can’t get more even-handed than that. And if there is something you’re really not sure about, we can discuss it ahead of time rather than one of us just buying it and hoping to win the subsequent fight.
Wife: Well it still means that you are completely in charge and I don’t get a say over anything ... and then you won’t even give me a clue what you’re willing to accept. So in other words you are in complete control of everything again as usual. That’s just where you always like to be, isn’t it?
Wife is unwilling to change. (Wife is demanding, of herself as well as others.)
Wife used to joke – well, it wasn’t a joke, but for the first hundred repetitions it sounded pretty witty – that she wouldn’t undergo a “personality transplant” for anybody. If you didn’t like her the way she was, tough shit. And admittedly change on a truly fundamental level is pretty difficult. But she has used this slogan over the years as an excuse to resist even modest change ... even changes in tactics. And as many people have pointed out over the years, doing the same thing and expecting different results is a form of insanity.
So, for example, how should Wife motivate the boys? Her preferred method (see also below) is to give them an order and then walk away. When she checks back a few hours later, she expects the job to be finished, to her very demanding standards. If it’s not finished – if in fact, as is generally the case, the job isn’t even started (because the boys, being no fools, see no reason to work up a sweat over something that Mom refuses to engage herself in) – then she gets mad. More than mad, she gets personally affronted, offended, insulted – because she takes their behavior to be “deliberate insubordination,” the direct equivalent of refusing to her face and insulting her to boot. Of course this is silly, because it is nothing of the kind ... but let that stand for the moment. I have tried a different approach, by asking her “Does your method get you the results you want?” If not, would you be interested in considering a different method?”
But the answer is actually No, she is not interested. The fact is that in her mind, her method ought to work. In her mind, her method is right. Therefore the boys have no business failing to respond to it. They must respond to it – they have to – because they should. If it doesn’t work in reality, then so much the worse for reality. That just shows how lazy and worthless the boys are. It certainly doesn’t suggest to her that she ought to change anything.
In the same way, Wife interprets all criticism as an attack. Now I admit that it can be very hard to take even the gentlest criticism with equanimity. I don’t claim to be very good at it myself. But if someone goes out of his way to assure me that he doesn’t mean to attack me, that on the contrary he has simply noticed that such-and-such a behavior is bringing me unwanted results and I might do better to do it like that instead, ... well, after a while I’ll finally hear him and lower my defenses. I might not like it, but I can grudgingly admit the theoretical possibility that something I am doing is less than perfect and could use to be upgraded.
Not Wife.
For Wife, any criticism is an attack. For Wife, it is impossible for a criticism to be impersonal. What is more, it is equally impossible for a criticism to be true. The only interpretation Wife can understand is that the one uttering the criticism is an Enemy, someone with whom she has to fight in self-defense. There is no way that anybody – not D, not me, not even Counselor – can possibly ask her to do anything different from what she is doing today, without all her hackles going up and her ears closing. And of course this means that all communication and all relationship is closed off. You can only relate to Wife if you are willing to accept her behaving exactly the way she already behaves.
Wife does not grok the boys: not to motivate and discipline, (Wife is a good teacher.) nor to appreciate and understand. (Wife is a good mother.)
The last time D was visiting us, Wife started complaining to her about how “lazy and insolent” our boys are. D had just gotten them to participate actively in a large cleaning project, and she (like everyone else) has always found them to be respectful and chipper. So she demurred that whatever one might fairly call the boys, “lazy and insolent” isn’t it. But Wife insisted that they are.
The gist of Wife’s argument is that when she tells the boys to do something, they ignore her. D tried to probe a little deeper ... to debug the situation ... to see whether there might be something Wife could do more effectively than she is doing it right now. And of course when Wife explained what she meant, the answer became obvious.
Wife’s idea of how to get the boys to do something is to call an order (or a set of orders) to them from another room, and then to lie down for three hours nursing a headache. Or maybe she picks up the phone to call Friend, or logs onto her e-mail for the afternoon, or disengages in some other very obvious way. Naturally the boys don’t take her orders very seriously: if Mom can’t even be bothered to walk into the same room with them, and if she doesn’t propose to lift a finger herself, and if there is no indication whether she will ever remember to follow up afterwards ... why exactly should they break a sweat? So they do nothing. And then Wife gets insulted and offended, because they are “so blatantly disrespecting her.”
It is a mystery to me how Wife ever held a job as a manager, because her ideas of how to manage are so paleolithic. Of course the story had an unhappy ending, for all the reasons I outline above – D tried to suggest a different way to approach the whole issue, and Wife got offended. (How dare you suggest I am an ineffective mother? They are my children, after all! So they have to do what I say!) What is relevant here is how thoroughly Wife misunderstands other people, and particularly our boys. How is it possible that she can’t understand what motivates others? D was even surprised; she and Wife used to be schoolteachers together, long long ago, and so D tried to remind Wife of what it takes to motivate a child in the classroom. It takes engagement, after all ... no schoolteacher can be effective without engagement and follow-up. So D tried to pitch it like that, by saying that when Wife gives an order, she should think of it as teaching the boys how to follow orders. Then all the skills that Wife used to bring to bear in her teaching could be deployed here too. D urged her, “You are a good teacher. You know how to teach. So if you want your child to do something, teach him. Teach your child! You can do this.”
But maybe she can’t, not any more. Certainly that evening she wanted no part of it, and she has shown no signs since then of taking any of that advice seriously.
Of course, being a good mother is about more than discipline and motivation. It’s also about love.
For years I cut Wife a lot of slack because she loved the boys with all her heart. And she thinks that she still does. But from where I sit, it has gotten a lot harder to see.
She complains about the boys incessantly. She runs them down as “lazy and insolent.” She denigrates the music they like to listen to. OK, maybe sometimes their choice in music isn’t exactly my favorite either – I think kids are supposed to favor music that annoys their parents, aren’t they? But never once to say anything the least bit positive about it ... isn’t that carrying parental annoyance a little far? What ever happened to the parental forbearance that puts up with all manner of crazy things from your kids because you love them?
Nor is the complaining lost on others. Last summer, we investigated a number of private schools for Son 1. In the end we applied to four and he was accepted at only one of them. Now, I have no doubts about the school that accepted him ... it is a fine school and I am happy for him to attend it. Only I have to wonder something. Son 1 is the kind of kid who would be an asset to any school; he is smart and insightful without being academically pretentious; he is kind, helpful, cooperative, and a natural leader; and he makes friends as if effortlessly, in any social setting you care to name. Why did three schools reject him?
There could be many explanations, but my theory is that it had something to do with Wife. She was so worried about whether he could make the transition to a new school successfully that she talked at great length about Son 1 to each of the Admissions Directors in turn. And I think she scared them off. No doubt she thought she was rooting for him; but I overheard some of these conversations and she seemed to spend a lot of time rehearsing her doubts and laying out all of Son 1’s failings ... or alleged failings, meaning all the places he falls short of the perfection she wants him to achieve and is disappointed that no human can ever reach. In the face of all this, I think the schools could be excused for fearing that Son 1 would be more trouble than he was worth.
It sounds like I am making up bogeymen. Why can’t I accept that Son 1 just didn’t make it? Plenty of kids don’t. Well, I would probably accept that explanation too, were it not for one fact. There was a fifth school we looked at, but we never applied to it. The reason is that this fifth school sent us a rejection letter in the fall – a full three or four months before we would ever have submitted an application – right after one lengthy discussion with Wife. The conclusion is inescapable: that school rejected Son 1 either because Wife made him sound so awful, or else because she herself was so awful that the school didn’t want to have to deal with her. And if one school could do that, it is not so far-fetched that others might have too ... even if the others had the delicacy to wait until we had submitted the application first.
This is love?
For that matter, Wife says that she loves Son 2 and that I don’t understand him. Maybe not, but she says this only when I am encouraging Son 2 to outgrow some immature behavior that won’t serve him well in middle school, and that she wants to cling to because it reminds her of when the boys were babies and she had a real bond to them. Whether it is sleeping in her bed or wearing odd and uncool clothes, Wife is always the one saying Son 2 should be allowed to do exactly as he has always done ... that we should all accept him exactly as he is, without ever asking the slightest change. Meanwhile Son 1 is the one saying, “He can’t do that in middle school or they’ll eat him alive – he looks like such a freak that way!” I know older siblings can be mean and overbearing (heck, I was an older sibling myself). But in this case it is totally clear to me that Son 1 is the one doing Son 2 a favor, and not Wife.
Again, this is love?
Maybe not.
Wife is materialistic and compulsively acquisitive. (Wife is idealistic.)
I have talked about Wife’s acquisitive lusts in earlier posts (such as this post and this one from Second Date, or this one from Sixth Date). These lusts aren’t new, but they used to be counterbalanced by her idealism. The truly depressing thing is that Wife doesn’t get any joy from the things she buys. Oh, she might occasionally say she appreciates these glasses frames she bought for $1000, or that watch she got for $1600. (And she’ll be sure to tell you the price while she is commenting on them.) This kind of buying can maybe be explained as Wife’s attempt to buy herself into a higher economic or social class than she was born into, because she so hates having once been poor. Not that she really comes across as belonging to some higher class – buying his way in didn’t work for Jay Gatsby and it hasn’t really worked for Wife – but at least the motivation here is easy to understand. Class mobility is a well-known American aspiration.
But much of the holding of goods in perpetuity seems to be some bizarre kind of duty for her, not a pleasure in its own right.
Consider, for example, the quilt that she inherited when her mother died. Now, this quilt isn’t finished, and Wife periodically frets that she will have to finish it before she dies. This is a moral imperative for her, at least insofar as it generates a lot of anxiety. It is never important enough for her to actually learn how to quilt, for instance, but it is plenty important enough to prevent her acquiescing if somebody suggests getting rid of it.
Now why, you might ask, does she think she must – simply must – finish the quilt before she dies?
Because we have no daughters, and she can’t rely on our sons to marry women who will want to take on the job of finishing it.
Come again?
Well the quilt can only be finished by women, you see, and only by women who have inherited it through the family.
One more time?
Look, this is easy. Her great grandmother started collecting the squares. Her grandmother started quilting the squares together. Her mother continued the job but never finished it. And so now the job has fallen to Wife.
You see, she obviously doesn’t really want to take it on, or she would have done something about it in the fifteen years since her mother died. But she dare not get rid of the quilt before finishing it – or ever after, come to that – lest she be pursued to her grave by nameless Furies. And so it sits in our living room to this day, wrapped around a frame like some massive spear, propped in a corner by the book shelf and stretching floor to ceiling. And it will be there until the day Wife dies.
I had a similar conversation with Wife the first year we were married. She was talking about “heirlooms” and it became clear to me that it was absolutely unthinkable to Wife that one might not keep everything one inherited from one’s ancestors. I tried to object, “Sweetheart, be reasonable. If you acquire things of your own and never get rid of anything that belonged to your parents, then you will obviously end up owning more things than your parents did. Now suppose our kids do the same thing, and then their kids. How many generations will it be before the family home has to be the size of the Smithsonian Institution to accommodate all the stuff? Isn’t that crazy?” But she couldn’t see it. I mean this quite literally – she was absolutely unable to follow my argument to its conclusion. At the time I didn’t know what to do with her incomprehension. I couldn’t fathom it, so I just set it aside as a curiosity that I hoped one day to see more clearly. And I guess maybe today I do.
Wife is completely self-absorbed. (Wife is – or can be – astonishingly empathetic.)
I have mentioned Wife’s nonstop litany of complaints, all day and every day. They are a sign of passivity, of course, but also of self-absorption; after all, finding every single thing in the world to be wrong isn’t possible unless you judge them all with respect to yourself. (I mean, even then it is pretty remarkable – what ever happened to the possibility that something might happen that you like? But it is a sure bet that some of the things that happen in life are good for other people, so if you sometimes see things through their eyes you’d be more likely to feel happy on their account.)
Nor does she have any understanding of the people around her: what they think, what they feel, what motivates them. It sounds like a cliche to say “My wife doesn’t understand me,” but this is something D described well when she raised the idea that Wife co-creates the fantasy world she shares with Boyfriend 5. D wrote:
I am also somewhat surprised at your reaction to my belief that there is every reason to believe she is a co-creator of the stories around [Boyfriend 5’s] family and their activities. If she can accuse you of rape, and develop a character for you so at odds with your real character (Wife's idea, for example, that you are a lonely misanthrope with no friends or connections is dramatically different from your persona with me; the man who wants to meet my friends, attend my dinner parties, likes to go to theater exploring the human condition and would be delighted to sit in my class and participate in my discussions is very far removed from her view of you). I could give plenty of other examples, but what seems odd to me is her complete inability to understand you at all, on any level. Your material desires seem distorted, your social network is minimized, even your physical well-being is completely overlooked. Either she really doesn't comprehend you, or she has invested her energies into creating a "Hosea" she can own (and she very much does own this person) and manipulate to satisfy her own psychological needs.
Once upon a time, it seemed like Wife would suspend her self-absorption for the boys, even if for nobody else. Why else would she go to all their sporting events, when she hates sports? These days, though, while the sporting events have become an unquestioned habit, she won’t extend the same grace to anything else. After one game, Son 1’s coach invited the whole team out for pizza. He does this every so often, and it is just the thing to appeal to hungry twelve-year-old boys. Wife’s reaction? It was sotto voce, of course, but the litany was immediate. Of course he wants to go for pizza. I hate pizza, It could have been anything else, but no, it has to be pizza. It’s always pizza. And I really hate pizza. Why can’t he choose something else, just for once? For that matter, why do we have to go at all? Sure, the whole team is going, but that’s just the problem. I hate being cooped up in a noisy restaurant with all those noisy boys yelling at each other about how much fun the game was. And laughing ... do you have any idea how loud they laugh? It’s just going to make my headache worse than it already is, worse than it has been all week. On top of which, I’m going to have to choke down the pizza. And I really, really hate pizza ....
Once upon a time, I really do think Wife knew how to see things from somebody else’s point of view, even if she didn’t always do it often or well. But lately I have seen no evidence whatever that she still has this skill. For a woman who used to be capable of such remarkable empathy, it is a terrible loss. And what a waste.
For what it is worth, I think this is why D suggested last winter that Wife is a narcissist.
Wife lies all the time.
What can I say about this that I haven’t already said on this blog many times over? Wife lies. To others and to herself.
She lies about big important things, like whom she is fucking, or whether I am a drunkard and a rapist and a child abuser. (I’m not.)
She lies about little trivial things, like whether she checked her e-mail today.
And then she lies to herself, telling herself over and over the fanciful stories she has made up, until finally she has persuaded herself that they are the truth.
Her mother used to lie like this, and it drove Wife crazy. But then, years ago somebody told me, “If you want to know what a young woman will be like when she is old, look at her mother.” I ignored this advice. But in Wife’s case, at the very least, it has come eerily true.
If you want more stories about Wife’s lies, all I can recommend is that you follow this link here.
I don't know how to summrize this post. I used to love and admire Wife. I used to say -- over and over -- that she remained the most remarkable woman I had ever met. Today, I don't find her so remarkable. But I don't know what else to say.
Friday, July 31, 2009
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Still life with complaints
I am on a business trip this week, and I asked my parents to stop in and see the family while I was gone (just because I wasn’t sure what state of mind Wife would be in). My father’s report indicated that things were pretty normal, at least towards the beginning of the week. But of course “normal” for Wife involves a lot of more or less mechanical griping. What is interesting in this discussion is just that I have never really talked about this before with my father (although of course he can’t help but to have noticed it) ... I guess out of a sense that I owed it to Wife to be loyal to her in that respect. I have less of that sense these days.
Dad: Yesterday your mother and I went to [your town] to return some boxes of clothes to Wife and to see how she and the boys are all doing, and everyone had quite a nice time. That afternoon, your Mom and I sat in the very neat living room having an ever-so-nice chat with Wife, while Son 2 went out and [played] and Son 1 played war games on the computer. That evening I brought home Chinese take-out for all. We left for home around 9:00 pm.
During that whole day, there was only a brief mention by Wife of the troubles between you two. We listened sympathetically to her complaints. She seemed more sad than angry about your current situation.... Son 1 even remarked on the fact that she and I didn't fight. Maybe we were both on our good behavior. She only mentioned the [discarded] books once when we first arrived and noticed how neat the living room looked. She never spoke about D.
I cannot catalog her complaints here. There was very little time to talk about them; ... and having not been a fly on your wall over the past few months or years I cannot attest to their veracity. I can relate some of them to you and see if you recognize yourself in any of them. Maybe I can help from the perspective of an additional 25 years of married life. We had our rough times too.
Hosea: As for Wife’s complaints, I have heard a lot of them although maybe not the ones she has mentioned to you. Some of what I have heard, I have heard directly from her; in other cases, I have heard from friends of hers who asked me "Is it really true that XYZ?" The complaints in the latter category have been almost universally false, sometimes outrageously so, although occasionally there was a barely discernable granule of fact hidden at the bottom around which she had built an array of fabulous corroborative details intended to give an air of verisimilitude to ... well, you get the idea. The complaints that she has made to me in person have often (not always) been a little less fantastical; but they have still displayed a remarkable misperception and misunderstanding compared to what I remember happening. Certainly the points of intersection between Wife’s stories and my own recollections are startlingly few.
Dad: Perhaps the important thing is not the substance of the complaints or their objective verity, but just the fact that she is making them. It suggests that something is not well with her, which we have known for some time, of course. You might attempt to assuage some of her unhappiness by a conciliatory gesture here and there. Of course you know what works there and what doesn't. Most people are alike in that we all want others to treat us with kindness and respect. A concession here and a loving gesture there can go a ways toward healing hurt feelings. Sometimes that's hard to do when the person with the hurt feelings has just made you madder than hell. Sometimes when children "act out" the psychologists tell us they are testing to see whether mom and dad still love them. I don't think we change all that much when we get older. We still crave being loved. Anything which reassures us along those lines can go a long way toward assuaging life's pains.
Hosea: Oh, but she has always complained about fictional stuff. What makes this any different?
Dad: You mean this is not a novel development? She's been doing this all along? Possibly since you were first married? That puts some things into a new perspective. I recall she came for a visit once without you [to attend some conference], and she stayed with us overnight. That evening all she did was complain about you at length. All we could do was listen to this litany of malcontent. None of what she described sounded anything like you. Your mother and I were so upset that we ended up taking it out on each other and had a big fight over "nothing" the next day. We didn't say anything to you at the time for fear of making you angry at us, since you were pretty stoutly defending her in those days.
And actually, I remember something that happened during the Christmas season before you and Wife were married. A month or more before Christmas, when your mom and I were visiting at her mother's, she told us that she was planning her annual big family bash and, since you and Wife were now living together, that we should consider ourselves part of the family. She made us promise to come to the party, which was to be held a few days before Christmas. Although we did not know anybody in this extended family except Wife and her mother, we said that we would certainly try our best to attend.
As time progressed, Wife’s mother evidently began to feel overwhelmed as she anticipated the upcoming event, and she complained to you and Wife (although saying nothing to us) that we were trying to "horn in" on her family party and that she just couldn't handle the (two) extra bodies. You, as the family diplomat, were assigned the task of breaking the bad news to us. The next time you and Wife were over at the house, you invited me out for a walk and started to explain how Wife's mother’s party was strictly a gathering for her extended family, and that our attempt to invite ourselves was not welcome.
Personally, we were relieved, because we weren't exactly looking forward to this party. Your mother has never liked large groups, and Wife's relatives were all strangers to us. But we were very confused about how Wife’s mother could insist that we come to the party, and then, a month later, concoct the fiction that we had forced ourselves on her.
Later we got used to her double-bind technique, and learned to roll with it. It was easy to ignore Wife’s mother and her shenanigans, because we didn't have to live with her. But Wife has, it seems, inherited -- or adopted -- some of her mother's ways in that she will put people into a double bind so that no matter what they do, it's wrong. Am I being unfair? Is my observation incorrect? You are with her daily; I see her only occasionally. Is it possible that I am the only one she does that to?
Hosea: If you grow up in a family that speaks only Swahili at home, you probably learn to speak Swahili by second nature, without even being aware you are doing it.
I guess I should have let my father know long ago that he wasn’t insane to have seen this behavior. And I have to wonder why I myself put up with it for so long ...?
Dad: Yesterday your mother and I went to [your town] to return some boxes of clothes to Wife and to see how she and the boys are all doing, and everyone had quite a nice time. That afternoon, your Mom and I sat in the very neat living room having an ever-so-nice chat with Wife, while Son 2 went out and [played] and Son 1 played war games on the computer. That evening I brought home Chinese take-out for all. We left for home around 9:00 pm.
During that whole day, there was only a brief mention by Wife of the troubles between you two. We listened sympathetically to her complaints. She seemed more sad than angry about your current situation.... Son 1 even remarked on the fact that she and I didn't fight. Maybe we were both on our good behavior. She only mentioned the [discarded] books once when we first arrived and noticed how neat the living room looked. She never spoke about D.
I cannot catalog her complaints here. There was very little time to talk about them; ... and having not been a fly on your wall over the past few months or years I cannot attest to their veracity. I can relate some of them to you and see if you recognize yourself in any of them. Maybe I can help from the perspective of an additional 25 years of married life. We had our rough times too.
Hosea: As for Wife’s complaints, I have heard a lot of them although maybe not the ones she has mentioned to you. Some of what I have heard, I have heard directly from her; in other cases, I have heard from friends of hers who asked me "Is it really true that XYZ?" The complaints in the latter category have been almost universally false, sometimes outrageously so, although occasionally there was a barely discernable granule of fact hidden at the bottom around which she had built an array of fabulous corroborative details intended to give an air of verisimilitude to ... well, you get the idea. The complaints that she has made to me in person have often (not always) been a little less fantastical; but they have still displayed a remarkable misperception and misunderstanding compared to what I remember happening. Certainly the points of intersection between Wife’s stories and my own recollections are startlingly few.
Dad: Perhaps the important thing is not the substance of the complaints or their objective verity, but just the fact that she is making them. It suggests that something is not well with her, which we have known for some time, of course. You might attempt to assuage some of her unhappiness by a conciliatory gesture here and there. Of course you know what works there and what doesn't. Most people are alike in that we all want others to treat us with kindness and respect. A concession here and a loving gesture there can go a ways toward healing hurt feelings. Sometimes that's hard to do when the person with the hurt feelings has just made you madder than hell. Sometimes when children "act out" the psychologists tell us they are testing to see whether mom and dad still love them. I don't think we change all that much when we get older. We still crave being loved. Anything which reassures us along those lines can go a long way toward assuaging life's pains.
Hosea: Oh, but she has always complained about fictional stuff. What makes this any different?
Dad: You mean this is not a novel development? She's been doing this all along? Possibly since you were first married? That puts some things into a new perspective. I recall she came for a visit once without you [to attend some conference], and she stayed with us overnight. That evening all she did was complain about you at length. All we could do was listen to this litany of malcontent. None of what she described sounded anything like you. Your mother and I were so upset that we ended up taking it out on each other and had a big fight over "nothing" the next day. We didn't say anything to you at the time for fear of making you angry at us, since you were pretty stoutly defending her in those days.
And actually, I remember something that happened during the Christmas season before you and Wife were married. A month or more before Christmas, when your mom and I were visiting at her mother's, she told us that she was planning her annual big family bash and, since you and Wife were now living together, that we should consider ourselves part of the family. She made us promise to come to the party, which was to be held a few days before Christmas. Although we did not know anybody in this extended family except Wife and her mother, we said that we would certainly try our best to attend.
As time progressed, Wife’s mother evidently began to feel overwhelmed as she anticipated the upcoming event, and she complained to you and Wife (although saying nothing to us) that we were trying to "horn in" on her family party and that she just couldn't handle the (two) extra bodies. You, as the family diplomat, were assigned the task of breaking the bad news to us. The next time you and Wife were over at the house, you invited me out for a walk and started to explain how Wife's mother’s party was strictly a gathering for her extended family, and that our attempt to invite ourselves was not welcome.
Personally, we were relieved, because we weren't exactly looking forward to this party. Your mother has never liked large groups, and Wife's relatives were all strangers to us. But we were very confused about how Wife’s mother could insist that we come to the party, and then, a month later, concoct the fiction that we had forced ourselves on her.
Later we got used to her double-bind technique, and learned to roll with it. It was easy to ignore Wife’s mother and her shenanigans, because we didn't have to live with her. But Wife has, it seems, inherited -- or adopted -- some of her mother's ways in that she will put people into a double bind so that no matter what they do, it's wrong. Am I being unfair? Is my observation incorrect? You are with her daily; I see her only occasionally. Is it possible that I am the only one she does that to?
Hosea: If you grow up in a family that speaks only Swahili at home, you probably learn to speak Swahili by second nature, without even being aware you are doing it.
I guess I should have let my father know long ago that he wasn’t insane to have seen this behavior. And I have to wonder why I myself put up with it for so long ...?
Saturday, July 25, 2009
The safe-deposit box
Very quickly ....
A few days ago, Son 1 mentioned that Wife had stopped by the bank to get into our safe deposit box. I was interested by this, so I decided to wait a couple of days and then check it out.
Today I checked it out, and there was absolutely nothing interesting in there ... only things that I knew had been there since we first rented it. But the log showed a long column of Wife's visits, every few months over the last couple of years, with the most recent one about a week ago. (That must be the visit that Son 1 mentioned.) What could this mean?
My theory -- and it is of necessity only a theory -- is that she was using this as a place to collect cash. If she pulled out more cash than she needed at regular intervals and then stopped by the bank when she had built up enough (say, $100 or so), she could have been building up a considerable supply.
Why take it out now? Again, there could be many reasons, if that is even what she is doing. But my guess is that this is her way of retaining an attorney untraceably. Maybe not, but it makes sense.
A few days ago, Son 1 mentioned that Wife had stopped by the bank to get into our safe deposit box. I was interested by this, so I decided to wait a couple of days and then check it out.
Today I checked it out, and there was absolutely nothing interesting in there ... only things that I knew had been there since we first rented it. But the log showed a long column of Wife's visits, every few months over the last couple of years, with the most recent one about a week ago. (That must be the visit that Son 1 mentioned.) What could this mean?
My theory -- and it is of necessity only a theory -- is that she was using this as a place to collect cash. If she pulled out more cash than she needed at regular intervals and then stopped by the bank when she had built up enough (say, $100 or so), she could have been building up a considerable supply.
Why take it out now? Again, there could be many reasons, if that is even what she is doing. But my guess is that this is her way of retaining an attorney untraceably. Maybe not, but it makes sense.
Friday, July 24, 2009
"Give me my gun back!"
Never a dull moment these days ....
You all remember a while ago, when I confiscated Wife's wallet and gun, right? Well, I told Wife I would give her back her wallet and ID this evening, in exchange for an agreement about how to split our finances into Hers, Mine, and Ours so that I don't have to care what she is spending money on. The agreement I wrote is full of loopholes and wouldn't stand 10 seconds in court, but I hope that at least it shows an agreed intention to a kind of common-sense division of financial responsibilities.
And then she asked for her gun back.
The conversation this morning was pretty brief, because I was already late for work, but basically I said No. What could she want it for, if not to shoot somebody? Sorry, but I'm not going there. She insisted that she had a "right" to it, I replied that I was afraid of what she could do with it, and we repeated ourselves for a few minutes before I really had to leave.
So mid-morning today she calls me at work. "Give me my gun back."
Why? So you can shoot me?
Because I have a right to it, and you don't.
But what are you going to do with it?
Nothing. But I don't like this financial agreement you are insisting on, although I signed it anyway. And if you keep my gun, then you are holding all the cards and that's not fair.
"Holding all the cards"? You mean you want to use your gun as a way to even out any negotiations between us? Ummm, ... excuse me babe, but the only way to use a gun in negotiations is by pointing it at somebody, and honestly I am not prepared to be that "somebody".
No, no, that's not what I mean at all. But listen: I've gotten legal advice which tells me that if you don't give me my gun back, I am on firm ground in filing for temporary custody of the children.
(Ulp.) OK, well, I don't have it with me. I gave it to somebody to look after, and I can't get it back today. And you remember I am leaving on a business trip tomorrow morning, right?
Who has it?
I won't tell you.
Who has it? It's my gun, and I have a right to know!
Sorry, I'll have to get back to you on that. Anyway, it's physically impossible for me to get it today, and tomorrow morning I leave town.
Then you have until you get back.
What, the minute I step off the plane? That makes no sense ... I still won't have it.
Fine, you have until 24 hours after you step off the plane. If I don't have my gun back by then, I'll file.
Well, I have to admit this rattled me. I sent a quick e-mail to a few people close to these events -- my parents, D, Boyfriend 4 -- and then called an attorney with whom I have already spoken. The Attorney had some very reassuring advice, as follows.
You all remember a while ago, when I confiscated Wife's wallet and gun, right? Well, I told Wife I would give her back her wallet and ID this evening, in exchange for an agreement about how to split our finances into Hers, Mine, and Ours so that I don't have to care what she is spending money on. The agreement I wrote is full of loopholes and wouldn't stand 10 seconds in court, but I hope that at least it shows an agreed intention to a kind of common-sense division of financial responsibilities.
And then she asked for her gun back.
The conversation this morning was pretty brief, because I was already late for work, but basically I said No. What could she want it for, if not to shoot somebody? Sorry, but I'm not going there. She insisted that she had a "right" to it, I replied that I was afraid of what she could do with it, and we repeated ourselves for a few minutes before I really had to leave.
So mid-morning today she calls me at work. "Give me my gun back."
Why? So you can shoot me?
Because I have a right to it, and you don't.
But what are you going to do with it?
Nothing. But I don't like this financial agreement you are insisting on, although I signed it anyway. And if you keep my gun, then you are holding all the cards and that's not fair.
"Holding all the cards"? You mean you want to use your gun as a way to even out any negotiations between us? Ummm, ... excuse me babe, but the only way to use a gun in negotiations is by pointing it at somebody, and honestly I am not prepared to be that "somebody".
No, no, that's not what I mean at all. But listen: I've gotten legal advice which tells me that if you don't give me my gun back, I am on firm ground in filing for temporary custody of the children.
(Ulp.) OK, well, I don't have it with me. I gave it to somebody to look after, and I can't get it back today. And you remember I am leaving on a business trip tomorrow morning, right?
Who has it?
I won't tell you.
Who has it? It's my gun, and I have a right to know!
Sorry, I'll have to get back to you on that. Anyway, it's physically impossible for me to get it today, and tomorrow morning I leave town.
Then you have until you get back.
What, the minute I step off the plane? That makes no sense ... I still won't have it.
Fine, you have until 24 hours after you step off the plane. If I don't have my gun back by then, I'll file.
Well, I have to admit this rattled me. I sent a quick e-mail to a few people close to these events -- my parents, D, Boyfriend 4 -- and then called an attorney with whom I have already spoken. The Attorney had some very reassuring advice, as follows.
- First, don't panic.
- Second, don't give her the gun.
- Third, she is probably bluffing. Besides, what kind of grounds is that for custody ... that you won't give her a gun? [I interposed at this point that I had every confidence Wife would lie about the grounds if she went down this route.]
- Fine, but if she is not bluffing, let her file. Let her serve you. All she gets out of that is a court date. Then you give me a call and we work on a response ... and we show up in court. No big deal.
- Besides, when you are out of state she can't serve you ... so have a nice trip. Let's talk more when you get back.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
An article about marriage and divorce
There has been so much going on lately, and I am so far behind in the narrative here, that I hardly know how I could catch up. But here is a fairly self-contained discussion.
In the middle of letters about other things, I happened to mention to D one day:
I have been trying to think clearly too, and it's not easy. Today's Time Magazine has an article reminding me of the colossal cost of divorce on the children of a marriage -- any children of any marriage, controlling for all other variables. So why would I think about it? Because Wife has become frankly so awful, in all the dimensions that you identify. But is she so awful that the damage caused by staying with her is greater than the damage caused by tearing the household apart, however flawed it be? Show me the calipers by which I can measure those things, and I can then answer the question. Until then, I have no idea.
I guess I haven't mentioned in so many words that the idea had crossed my mind, but after my last eight posts -- basically everything in July -- it shouldn't be a real stretch to figure out. Anyway, it's at least a topic of discussion and some research. But I want to weigh all the factors, and the article in Time certainly raised some points that I couldn't ignore.
D went out to pick up the magazine and read the article, and then she replied as follows:
I read the TIME article on marriage with increasing dismay the longer I read the article. Since when does TIME print hysterical and nasty articles as thoughtful commentary? I admit she lost me when quoting Leonard Michaels: "Adultery is not about sex or romance. Ultimately, it is about how little we mean to each other." Really? Does this strike you as a true comment on our love or our agonized discussions about our marriages? I respectfully, but firmly, demur.
There is a sharp edge and tone to this article that slashes, but the understanding seems superficial. Is the collapse of marriage really the single most important force causing hardship and misery in America? How is Flanagan measuring these factors? Yes, children who are poor often have no fathers living at home, but that's not the whole story. Let's drop the pretense and address the real issue; Flanagan doesn't mention the African American birthrate outside of marriage (so politically incorrect!), but it's about 70%. Does she really want to say that 70% of a certain ethnic group is living in misery and hardship because the children are not born within marriage? This seems to discount the efforts of female parents - single parents - as fine as any I've ever known. It also dismisses the influence of grandparents and pastors who direct and guide so many African Americans. Perhaps she ought to look at our president before making such sweeping generalizations. I'm in the trenches; I know how difficult poverty is, but single parenting is only one of many factors that limit the success of my students. Interestingly, Dad usually isn't far. He may be behind in child support, and that's unfortunate, but every state in America has separated visitation from child support, understanding that seeing Dad is more important to the child than the regular check, particularly in the Black community, where women have a far easier time getting a job than the 'threatening' male. Sigh* This issue is just so complex. Articles like this one don't help clarify the issues.
Two of the authors Flanagan quotes I have read extensively. David Blankenhorn is an evangelical Christian who has made a career out of promoting traditional fatherhood. That means a hard line against gay and lesbian parents and a view of fatherhood that seems rather idealized. The quote Flanagan uses is typical of his evocative language, but there's not the slightest attempt to back it up with evidence. Judith Wallerstein's work is far more interesting. She has done the only longitudinal study of divorce we have, and the results are sobering. Divorce does appear to deeply affect children for years afterward, but even then, you have to realize that the population she is looking at knows they are going to be interviewed about the impact of their parent's divorce for years to come; it is impossible to know how that awareness affects their view of divorce. The population she studies is also reasonably well off and white. Race and class matter. Again, the complexity of this issue is daunting; why such a screed?
Are middle class people who get divorced really the selfish creatures Flanagan portrays? Are we really unwilling to put in the hard work and personal sacrifice necessary to make marriage work? Who does this describe except the cardboard political figures she so gleefully mocks? All the couples I worked with found divorce enormously difficult and painful. They cared deeply about their children, and realized that no extra-martial affair offered the security and rewards of a strong and loving marriage. The idea that people are somehow more narcissistic today than yesterday, fifty years or hundreds of years ago...is suspect. Yes, we get more divorces today. But the average marriage lasts about as long as it did one hundred years ago. Back then, it just ended through death instead of divorce. That wasn't an improvement.
I'm sorry Flanagan's cancer treatment confined her to bed watching reality TV, but perhaps now that she is well, she needs to have more compassion and less judgment for the millions of individuals who face divorce. Ultimately, Tolstoy is still right; each unhappy family is unique. That means the decision to divorce is rarely black and white and neither is it usually selfish or just done for sex and romantic letters. Society has managed to survive even when marriage was not allowed, as in the African slave communities. Humility and kindness might convince me that she understood her subject. Good grief.
OK, that wasn't quite the response I had anticipated, but she raised good points. In reply I wrote her as follows:
I'm not sure what to say about the TIME article. Or rather, there are bits and bobs that I can say, but they don't add up to a coherent picture.
In the first place, I should point out that I didn't give the article a lot of detailed contemplation when I read it. I was still trying to recover from all the emotional hubbub of the week, and this just added to the noise. That's the context in which I mentioned it to you. I can also add that TIME does not always insist that its commentary be measured or thoughtful: I have seen an explicit statement that the editorial policy is both to inform and to entertain (actually "to titillate" but it was written in the 1920's) ... and every so often they print something totally off the wall in the hopes that it will capture people's interest.
I had never heard of Leonard Michaels before this, so I looked him up in Wikipedia. Turns out he is a (recently deceased) author and lit professor. From what I found about him on-line, the quote about adultery (that "it is about how little we mean to each other") seems completely in character. That may, in fact, be what adultery really did mean for him. But it should be no surprise if we have to add, "Your mileage may vary." (Check out, e.g., this article.)
The question of single parenthood is a vexed one; there may be inadequate empirical data, but I almost wonder what kind of data could be adequate. At a purely intuitive and totally unscientific level, it makes a kind of emotional sense to me that the physical presence of fathers should be important and that having a father who lives around-the-corner-and-down-the-street (and who drops in a lot) just wouldn't be the same. But I don't begin to pretend that proves anything. David Blankenhorn may push an overly idealized vision of fatherhood, but the point that Flanagan quotes him to make is a pretty modest one: namely (as I read it) that the emotional bond between parents (both parents!) and children is way more important than any amount of cash. To me, this only echoes the very same concerns you express when you describe how damaging it is to children to listen to denigration of either parent by the other.
As for whether "we" in the middle classes are just too selfish to hang in there, ... well, what can I say? Certainly I tried to hang in there a very long time. (How long has Flanagan been married, come to that? Not that I'm competitive, or anything ....) But there is a point where one feels pushed against the wall. Yes, it is true that there were fewer divorces in former times, but the explanation that marriages simply ended in death doesn't seem fully adequate to me. We have (after all) no evidence what would have happened had the spouses lived longer. What's more, I think there are other factors. In particular, there were times and places where survival outside of a stable marriage was so tenuous that couples had to stay together just to stay alive. Generally, I think this meant that the wife had to stay with the husband no matter how badly she was treated, and no matter how many "dalliances" the husband enjoyed on the side ... because without him she had no means to buy groceries, and no roof over her head while she ate them. Is this a world we want to return to? Where wives are totally dependent on their husbands for everything, and so marriages can remain permanent because husbands have no motive to leave them and wives have no power to? Personally, if I had the power (like Rochester in Jane Eyre) to lock Wife in the attic -- or, more genteelly, to hire servants that would do all her work and prevent her from causing any damage -- I should be less interested in knowing where my rights are in the case of divorce. As long as I could do what I wanted anyway, why would I want a divorce?
But there is no way we are going to return to that world. And I have to believe that people in the past were just as rotten as we are today. If there is a difference in outcome, it must be that the circumstances are different -- in this case, that we have decided widows and divorcees (especially with minor children) shouldn't be left to starve in the streets. So we have changed the laws, and that has made it easier to divorce. No surprise, then, when the numbers go up.
A lot to think about ....
In the middle of letters about other things, I happened to mention to D one day:
I have been trying to think clearly too, and it's not easy. Today's Time Magazine has an article reminding me of the colossal cost of divorce on the children of a marriage -- any children of any marriage, controlling for all other variables. So why would I think about it? Because Wife has become frankly so awful, in all the dimensions that you identify. But is she so awful that the damage caused by staying with her is greater than the damage caused by tearing the household apart, however flawed it be? Show me the calipers by which I can measure those things, and I can then answer the question. Until then, I have no idea.
I guess I haven't mentioned in so many words that the idea had crossed my mind, but after my last eight posts -- basically everything in July -- it shouldn't be a real stretch to figure out. Anyway, it's at least a topic of discussion and some research. But I want to weigh all the factors, and the article in Time certainly raised some points that I couldn't ignore.
D went out to pick up the magazine and read the article, and then she replied as follows:
I read the TIME article on marriage with increasing dismay the longer I read the article. Since when does TIME print hysterical and nasty articles as thoughtful commentary? I admit she lost me when quoting Leonard Michaels: "Adultery is not about sex or romance. Ultimately, it is about how little we mean to each other." Really? Does this strike you as a true comment on our love or our agonized discussions about our marriages? I respectfully, but firmly, demur.
There is a sharp edge and tone to this article that slashes, but the understanding seems superficial. Is the collapse of marriage really the single most important force causing hardship and misery in America? How is Flanagan measuring these factors? Yes, children who are poor often have no fathers living at home, but that's not the whole story. Let's drop the pretense and address the real issue; Flanagan doesn't mention the African American birthrate outside of marriage (so politically incorrect!), but it's about 70%. Does she really want to say that 70% of a certain ethnic group is living in misery and hardship because the children are not born within marriage? This seems to discount the efforts of female parents - single parents - as fine as any I've ever known. It also dismisses the influence of grandparents and pastors who direct and guide so many African Americans. Perhaps she ought to look at our president before making such sweeping generalizations. I'm in the trenches; I know how difficult poverty is, but single parenting is only one of many factors that limit the success of my students. Interestingly, Dad usually isn't far. He may be behind in child support, and that's unfortunate, but every state in America has separated visitation from child support, understanding that seeing Dad is more important to the child than the regular check, particularly in the Black community, where women have a far easier time getting a job than the 'threatening' male. Sigh* This issue is just so complex. Articles like this one don't help clarify the issues.
Two of the authors Flanagan quotes I have read extensively. David Blankenhorn is an evangelical Christian who has made a career out of promoting traditional fatherhood. That means a hard line against gay and lesbian parents and a view of fatherhood that seems rather idealized. The quote Flanagan uses is typical of his evocative language, but there's not the slightest attempt to back it up with evidence. Judith Wallerstein's work is far more interesting. She has done the only longitudinal study of divorce we have, and the results are sobering. Divorce does appear to deeply affect children for years afterward, but even then, you have to realize that the population she is looking at knows they are going to be interviewed about the impact of their parent's divorce for years to come; it is impossible to know how that awareness affects their view of divorce. The population she studies is also reasonably well off and white. Race and class matter. Again, the complexity of this issue is daunting; why such a screed?
Are middle class people who get divorced really the selfish creatures Flanagan portrays? Are we really unwilling to put in the hard work and personal sacrifice necessary to make marriage work? Who does this describe except the cardboard political figures she so gleefully mocks? All the couples I worked with found divorce enormously difficult and painful. They cared deeply about their children, and realized that no extra-martial affair offered the security and rewards of a strong and loving marriage. The idea that people are somehow more narcissistic today than yesterday, fifty years or hundreds of years ago...is suspect. Yes, we get more divorces today. But the average marriage lasts about as long as it did one hundred years ago. Back then, it just ended through death instead of divorce. That wasn't an improvement.
I'm sorry Flanagan's cancer treatment confined her to bed watching reality TV, but perhaps now that she is well, she needs to have more compassion and less judgment for the millions of individuals who face divorce. Ultimately, Tolstoy is still right; each unhappy family is unique. That means the decision to divorce is rarely black and white and neither is it usually selfish or just done for sex and romantic letters. Society has managed to survive even when marriage was not allowed, as in the African slave communities. Humility and kindness might convince me that she understood her subject. Good grief.
OK, that wasn't quite the response I had anticipated, but she raised good points. In reply I wrote her as follows:
I'm not sure what to say about the TIME article. Or rather, there are bits and bobs that I can say, but they don't add up to a coherent picture.
In the first place, I should point out that I didn't give the article a lot of detailed contemplation when I read it. I was still trying to recover from all the emotional hubbub of the week, and this just added to the noise. That's the context in which I mentioned it to you. I can also add that TIME does not always insist that its commentary be measured or thoughtful: I have seen an explicit statement that the editorial policy is both to inform and to entertain (actually "to titillate" but it was written in the 1920's) ... and every so often they print something totally off the wall in the hopes that it will capture people's interest.
I had never heard of Leonard Michaels before this, so I looked him up in Wikipedia. Turns out he is a (recently deceased) author and lit professor. From what I found about him on-line, the quote about adultery (that "it is about how little we mean to each other") seems completely in character. That may, in fact, be what adultery really did mean for him. But it should be no surprise if we have to add, "Your mileage may vary." (Check out, e.g., this article.)
The question of single parenthood is a vexed one; there may be inadequate empirical data, but I almost wonder what kind of data could be adequate. At a purely intuitive and totally unscientific level, it makes a kind of emotional sense to me that the physical presence of fathers should be important and that having a father who lives around-the-corner-and-down-the-street (and who drops in a lot) just wouldn't be the same. But I don't begin to pretend that proves anything. David Blankenhorn may push an overly idealized vision of fatherhood, but the point that Flanagan quotes him to make is a pretty modest one: namely (as I read it) that the emotional bond between parents (both parents!) and children is way more important than any amount of cash. To me, this only echoes the very same concerns you express when you describe how damaging it is to children to listen to denigration of either parent by the other.
As for whether "we" in the middle classes are just too selfish to hang in there, ... well, what can I say? Certainly I tried to hang in there a very long time. (How long has Flanagan been married, come to that? Not that I'm competitive, or anything ....) But there is a point where one feels pushed against the wall. Yes, it is true that there were fewer divorces in former times, but the explanation that marriages simply ended in death doesn't seem fully adequate to me. We have (after all) no evidence what would have happened had the spouses lived longer. What's more, I think there are other factors. In particular, there were times and places where survival outside of a stable marriage was so tenuous that couples had to stay together just to stay alive. Generally, I think this meant that the wife had to stay with the husband no matter how badly she was treated, and no matter how many "dalliances" the husband enjoyed on the side ... because without him she had no means to buy groceries, and no roof over her head while she ate them. Is this a world we want to return to? Where wives are totally dependent on their husbands for everything, and so marriages can remain permanent because husbands have no motive to leave them and wives have no power to? Personally, if I had the power (like Rochester in Jane Eyre) to lock Wife in the attic -- or, more genteelly, to hire servants that would do all her work and prevent her from causing any damage -- I should be less interested in knowing where my rights are in the case of divorce. As long as I could do what I wanted anyway, why would I want a divorce?
But there is no way we are going to return to that world. And I have to believe that people in the past were just as rotten as we are today. If there is a difference in outcome, it must be that the circumstances are different -- in this case, that we have decided widows and divorcees (especially with minor children) shouldn't be left to starve in the streets. So we have changed the laws, and that has made it easier to divorce. No surprise, then, when the numbers go up.
A lot to think about ....
Saturday, July 11, 2009
"The Little Foxes"
We watched "The Little Foxes" tonight. Wife subscribed us to Netflix over a year ago -- well over, come to think of it -- and it has been really fun. Well I have no idea when or why she put this one on the list, but it was a great choice.It was a great choice because it echoes so well the accusations D made about what Wife has become, when D was here last week. Wife's family grew up poor and not rich; but otherwise they bear an astonishing similarity to the Hubbards. I can imagine that Wife herself was Alexandra, back when she was young. Now she is certainly Regina. Wife's older sister is Birdie ... well, she doesn't drink (for religious reasons) but otherwise she is every bit as weak and pliable.
At one point I remarked out loud what a perfect movie it was, thinking of the fights with D and the accusations of just how totally materialistic Wife has become. (I didn't say that part out loud.) It was towards the end of the movie, and Wife asked me (a little bitterly) whether I identify with Horace. Fortunately I was able to evade the question by laughing, "Well Horace is dead, so I sure hope not!" But do I? In reality? Well of course ....
Wife and I actually talked a little after the movie about my request in Counselor's office that she be willing to change, but I don't think we got anywhere. No matter. I have an appointment soon to figure out what my legal rights and obligations are.
It's late, so I'll stop here. But it is really amazing how easy it is to map Wife's extended family onto this movie.
Good night, all.
Friday, July 10, 2009
I may go private soon
I'll be trying to get advice on a number of issues in the next few days, and it is possible that I may be advised to go private. (Not that I expect to be posting a whole lot anyway, if the immediate future is anything like as busy as the immediate past has been.) Nobody has said anything yet, but I want to be prepared.
Needless to say, if the advice I get consistently says "Who cares?" then I won't bother going private.
But -- just in case I do -- please let me know if you want an invitation. An e-mail is fine, or else a comment on this post.
Needless to say, if the advice I get consistently says "Who cares?" then I won't bother going private.
But -- just in case I do -- please let me know if you want an invitation. An e-mail is fine, or else a comment on this post.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Counseling 32
Well, that was fast.
You have noticed before now that I am pretty cynical these days about the chances for our counseling sessions leading anywhere ... not because I am not willing to put in any commitment (as some readers have suggested or wondered) but because Wife isn't. After plenty of years in which she has openly scoffed at every exercise, proposal, or suggestion that Counselor makes, I figure the odds are against any change ever happening. Back before she left, D asked me, "So why do you still go? Isn't the whole point of marriage counseling that you be willing to make a change in your life? If Wife is absolutely unwilling to change, doesn't that mean that the whole exercise is a waste of time and money?" And the answer, reluctant as I have been to admit it, is really "Yes."
So enough is enough. We get to Counselor's office, he invites us in, we comment briefly on the weather ... and then I start right at the beginning by saying I have a "procedural question" for Wife. I start by explaining all the stuff above about the whole point of marriage counseling; I add in the part about her systematically refusing to budge whenever Counselor has offered us a way to reframe our situation so that we can make progress. And then I ask Wife point blank:
"Are you willing to change?"
"Well," she hedged, "a lot of the specific things we've discussed in the last week where you have asked me to change are things that I have no idea how to change; they may not even be possible ...."
"That's an evasion. I didn't ask about understanding or possibility. Are you willing to change?" My point is that I am not even asking her to succeed -- for that, questions like whether it is possible become relevant. All I want to know is where her heart is ... where her will is ... what direction is she pointing in ...?
"That really depends. Some things I might be willing to discuss changing, but other things I'm not ...."
I stand up and walk to the door. "Then this is a waste of time and I have work to do. Counselor, send me the bill and I'll process it through our insurance." (He usually only gets around to billing us once or twice a year.)
"Wait, I really don't think you can just leave like that ...."
"Bye." And I leave the office and drive back to work.
One minor complication, just to make it a complete story. I have been exchanging e-mails with D over the situation, and she reminded me of something that has concerned me in the past. From time to time, Wife has talked to Boyfriend 5 about kidnapping the children and fleeing to the Old Country. [I looked for references in earlier posts but couldn't find any. This is probably the closest.] Now I know Wife hasn't been in touch with Boyfriend 5 lately (or I think she hasn't) ... but I still worry about the risk that she'll grab-and-go. Flight is, after all, a big deal in her psyche. D brought up the same issue. So when Wife pulled into the parking lot at Counselor's office with Son 1 in the passenger's seat, I asked him to move into my car. The fact is that I have a job in town, so I'm not going anywhere. But I don't want to make it easy or possible for her to do so.
The narrative is starting to accelerate quickly.
You have noticed before now that I am pretty cynical these days about the chances for our counseling sessions leading anywhere ... not because I am not willing to put in any commitment (as some readers have suggested or wondered) but because Wife isn't. After plenty of years in which she has openly scoffed at every exercise, proposal, or suggestion that Counselor makes, I figure the odds are against any change ever happening. Back before she left, D asked me, "So why do you still go? Isn't the whole point of marriage counseling that you be willing to make a change in your life? If Wife is absolutely unwilling to change, doesn't that mean that the whole exercise is a waste of time and money?" And the answer, reluctant as I have been to admit it, is really "Yes."
So enough is enough. We get to Counselor's office, he invites us in, we comment briefly on the weather ... and then I start right at the beginning by saying I have a "procedural question" for Wife. I start by explaining all the stuff above about the whole point of marriage counseling; I add in the part about her systematically refusing to budge whenever Counselor has offered us a way to reframe our situation so that we can make progress. And then I ask Wife point blank:
"Are you willing to change?"
"Well," she hedged, "a lot of the specific things we've discussed in the last week where you have asked me to change are things that I have no idea how to change; they may not even be possible ...."
"That's an evasion. I didn't ask about understanding or possibility. Are you willing to change?" My point is that I am not even asking her to succeed -- for that, questions like whether it is possible become relevant. All I want to know is where her heart is ... where her will is ... what direction is she pointing in ...?
"That really depends. Some things I might be willing to discuss changing, but other things I'm not ...."
I stand up and walk to the door. "Then this is a waste of time and I have work to do. Counselor, send me the bill and I'll process it through our insurance." (He usually only gets around to billing us once or twice a year.)
"Wait, I really don't think you can just leave like that ...."
"Bye." And I leave the office and drive back to work.
One minor complication, just to make it a complete story. I have been exchanging e-mails with D over the situation, and she reminded me of something that has concerned me in the past. From time to time, Wife has talked to Boyfriend 5 about kidnapping the children and fleeing to the Old Country. [I looked for references in earlier posts but couldn't find any. This is probably the closest.] Now I know Wife hasn't been in touch with Boyfriend 5 lately (or I think she hasn't) ... but I still worry about the risk that she'll grab-and-go. Flight is, after all, a big deal in her psyche. D brought up the same issue. So when Wife pulled into the parking lot at Counselor's office with Son 1 in the passenger's seat, I asked him to move into my car. The fact is that I have a job in town, so I'm not going anywhere. But I don't want to make it easy or possible for her to do so.
The narrative is starting to accelerate quickly.
P.S. added August 26. I just realized something. This post, our last counseling session together, is dated July 9, 2009. Our first session in this round of counseling was just exactly a year ago, July 10, 2008. Wow.
What is Wife trying to do?
OK, this one is short and sweet. It's a question.
Tonight after everyone else was in bed, I noticed in Wife's purse a lumpy sealed envelope. Under the circumstances, I figured that self-preservation trumps respect for privacy, so I opened it. It contained her birth certificate and her passport. I have mentioned that she already has her driver's license.
What does this add up to? In other words, what is the transaction for which she would need these particular pieces of paper? Is she going to the bank to get her other ATMs back? Or is it something a lot more dangerous? For that matter, why is she in such a blasted hurry to get those things back, when I have tried to say that the more she nags me about them, the more nervous I get and the longer I'll hide them? Is it just that she can't stand being out of control? Or is she planning to do me some kind of harm once she gets them?
Inquiring minds want to know ....
There was also a letter to Friend, but I didn't bother opening that. I can probably guess that it is about how awful I am, and about why she hasn't been around her cell phone lately. I hope it is nothing actually threatening.
Thoughts?
Tonight after everyone else was in bed, I noticed in Wife's purse a lumpy sealed envelope. Under the circumstances, I figured that self-preservation trumps respect for privacy, so I opened it. It contained her birth certificate and her passport. I have mentioned that she already has her driver's license.
What does this add up to? In other words, what is the transaction for which she would need these particular pieces of paper? Is she going to the bank to get her other ATMs back? Or is it something a lot more dangerous? For that matter, why is she in such a blasted hurry to get those things back, when I have tried to say that the more she nags me about them, the more nervous I get and the longer I'll hide them? Is it just that she can't stand being out of control? Or is she planning to do me some kind of harm once she gets them?
Inquiring minds want to know ....
There was also a letter to Friend, but I didn't bother opening that. I can probably guess that it is about how awful I am, and about why she hasn't been around her cell phone lately. I hope it is nothing actually threatening.
Thoughts?
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Sixth date 4, Brief narrative
Let's see if I can give a bare bones account of what actually happened last week. Let's see ... chronologically? Thematically? A mix ...?
Revisiting the week as I wrote this, I think it is pretty likely I won't have any friends left in the blogosphere by the time they finish reading it. (sigh) I hope it helps that I am aware of the problem. I am trying to figure out the next steps from here.
Cleaning
[Saturday] D started by helping the boys tidy their room and put away their laundry. Only they couldn't close their dresser drawers because of the huge numbers of shirts falling out of them. Wife says "If they'd only hang up their shirts it would be no problem." D asks the boys, "What are these shirts? Can you show me? Do they still fit? Do you like them or wear them?" Then she weeded out a couple of bags worth of shirts that no longer fit and/or that neither boy was willing to let touch his body. And suddenly the dresser drawers closed nicely.
[Sunday, Monday] D and I totally rearranged the storage units. Wife and I have rented a storage unit ever since we moved into our house. You may recall that back in January we had to rent a second unit because of all the junk we moved out of the house. Well, two units cost twice as much as one unit (fancy that!) and the expense was getting to be a nuisance. D and I rearranged things so that we could consolidate into one unit, and surrender the second one. And mostly we succeeded at this by simple geometry ... we really threw out very little. (Well, ... considering.)
Also, D cleaned the bathrooms again. Yes, she had done that back in January. It is possible somebody else might have done it since then, but I'm not taking bets.
[Tuesday, Wednesday] Then she started in on the living room, which had been left out the last time around. The boys had left a bunch of junk lying around, and there were books strewn. Also the room was hard to use (and therefore drifted into being a junk depository) because of the way the bookshelves and furniture were arranged. OK, well D got the boys to pick up their own stuff. She consulted a bit and we agreed that the brick-and-board shelf had to come down ... that would improve the space enormously. (I would swear that Wife was in on this agreement, but maybe she thought we were talking about something else.) So D went to work on the shelves, pulling down books to dust them and asking what could get donated to charity or the library or something. As the project went on, she got significantly more aggressive on this point; and in the end we must have culled somewhere over a thousand books. Not that this really stripped our living room, you understand ... there must be twice that many still on the shelves. Or more.
[Thursday] Last thing was to organize a whole box of filing into which I had been pitching papers pell-mell for a long, long time. She did ask me (several times) if I had any intention of ever dealing with the papers, and was tolerant when I said yes.
Other chores
D did a lot of laundry -- every day -- and did the dishes after every meal. (She doesn't believe in dishwashers.) She also offered to help Son 2 pack for a big two-week expedition he was leaving for -- call it a campout, which is close enough. She helped me plan, shop for, and cook the meals. She made a huge raft of sandwiches for Son 1's sports team, which had a number of games during the week. There's probably more that I'm forgetting.
Sex
Since D was staying in our house, there wasn't really a good venue for sex. But we improvised the best we could, using what little standing room we could find in the storage units and the garage. I can't say either of those venues worked for me terribly well, but they did seem to work for D -- rapturously and repeatedly. At any rate she certainly sounded like she was enjoying herself ... and the loss of muscular control is something I'd only ever read about before. I take all that as a good sign. (Seriously, it could sound like I'm griping and I'm not; given the very tight constraints, I think the sex was one of the things that worked out best during the whole week.)
Fights
There were a lot of them.
Wife blamed D for throwing away all those shirts; although honestly I had wanted to do the same thing for years. Wife buys stuff without any visible regard for whether we need it or already have it; I have enough shirts to go to work for three weeks without repeating a single one, but she still tells me I need a few more. The thing is that I'm too dilatory or slothful to get around to purging the boys's shirts, to say nothing of wanting to avoid the inevitable fight that it would (and did) generate. But when there were so many shirts that they would never wear, it was the right thing to do.
D for her part got progressively more irritated at Wife's refusal to say Please or Thank you or even Hello, at Wife's seeming inability even to notice when D was scrubbing her fingers to the bone cleaning caked shit out of the inside rims of our toilets, and at Wife's consistent failure to make even the smallest gesture of politeness: Can I get you something? Would you like a glass of water? One way of explaining this neglect would be to say that Wife didn't want D to do the things she was doing, but it is pretty hard to think that about scrubbing the toilets. Nor does it explain similar rudenesses over breakfast or dinner, when no work was being done at all (except for cooking or washing up). In any event, when Wife shouted about some of the other topics, D shot back with this one.
Wife resented the hell out of our pruning the books, and truth to tell we probably went overboard. But the way she reacted wasn't very productive, because it mostly meant repeating the refrain, "You can't throw those away because their mine, mine, mine, all mine! Do you hear me? Mine, mine, MINE!" This just cemented D's diagnosis that owning all this stuff has totally distorted Wife's view of the world, making it all about her. Since Wife acquires the stuff with no concern for whether we will need it or ever use it, the overall pattern looks unhealthy. And no, D was not terribly gentle about explaining this back to Wife; rather, when Wife had screeched for long enough at D, D would shout back at her to open her eyes up to other people besides herself. The point about basic civility (see the preceding paragraph) fit in here too.
Occasionally Wife would argue that she needed these or those scholarly tomes because she still reads them on a regular basis and is going to go back to scholarship any day now. Mind you, she failed her master's exams nearly fifteen years ago and hasn't seen the inside of a university since then. The "scholarly tomes" in question were all covered in spider webs and insect droppings, so they probably hadn't been used all that recently. But Wife claimed that they had been and would be, all the same. This argument just contributed to the impression both D and I have, that Wife spends most of her time in a world of make-believe.
Wife was also angry that D offered to help Son 2 pack for his expedition. What was she trying to say, that Wife wasn't good enough to pack her own son? (Somehow the topic had shifted from getting the work done to whether Wife was good enough ... but don't conclude that this is self-absorption.) Now, Son 2 is a gentler and more sensitive kid than Son 1, and I really didn't want him being caught between two such dominant women. So I pushed both of them away (figuratively) and insisted that Son 2 should pack himself. After all, if he's going to be gone for two weeks, he'll have to be able to take care of that. This seemed to work out OK.
Shortly after we finished with the books, Wife went out to get "one last thing" that Son 2 would need for his trip. She came back not having found it, but having bought a big box of candles (we have candles already, not that we use them), some personal electronics (for which we have no need), and a pair of $60 earrings (she must have hundreds of earrings). I lost my temper at this and took the bags away from her. I went immediately back to the store to return them. In the process, I also took Wife's wallet and hid it somewhere I am reasonably sure she can't retrieve it. (I can, easily enough.)
That's how I confiscated Wife's wallet.
While I am still speaking of the wallet, I should explain a couple of things. I let her keep her driver's license and all her keys. She recently set up an ATM card with our bank that lets her access two separate accounts holding inheritance money from a relative that recently died. These accounts are in her name alone, so I have no ownership rights on them. And I let her keep that ATM card. (Between them they add to something over $23,000.00 ... so as long as she is willing to drive to the bank, she has access to plenty of money.) I also let her keep her insurance ID cards and her library card. So she is not without resources. But I hope to impede her ability mindlessly to piss away our common resources as long as she is making such irrational buying decisions.
While I was gone, she spent the time murmuring softly to Son 2 about what a beast I am and how she won't put up with it any longer, until he was curled up on his bed crying in fetal position. (Nice send-off for his big trip, huh?) When I came back and found out, I told her "No more. You are going to be happy and cheerful until Son 2 leaves tomorrow evening. I don't care what anybody does to you or says to you, but you are not going to say a single, solitary unpleasant thing until that time. Then after he leaves, you can say anything you want." She couldn't make herself be pleasant, but she did succeed in shutting up, which I guess is the next best thing.
She also got on the phone to Boyfriend 5 ... or no, I guess it was Friend. That's when I picked up her cell phone, insisting that she deal with the here-and-now instead of fleeing into fantasy land. I handed the phone to D, saying I was really too upset to know what to do with it. D put it somewhere around the house. I'm sure it will turn up.
That's what happened to the cell phone.
Travel and heat
The next day we took Son 2 to the spot where he was embarking on his big trip. Everyone said nice things to him, and we all hurrahed him off. (Wife sulked when she wasn't actually talking to him, but never mind.) Then we went from there to visit my parents and spent the night. The next morning we hung out at my parents' house for a while, preparing a big barbecue for lunch. D spent a lot of time chatting with them and getting to know them.
After I took a shower that morning, I couldn't find my comb so I checked in Wife's bag for one. I didn't find a comb, but I did find her Smith & Wesson 38. Now, I don't know about you but I honestly can't think of any legitimate reason for her to have brought a handgun along on this trip. So I lifted it out of the bag and hid it at my parents' house. I also told my parents -- and D -- what I had found.
Not ten minutes later, Wife asked me in a long-suffering voice to give her back her handgun. I asked her why she had brought it. Her answer was, "I always carry it whenever I go anywhere, so that it can't get stolen by someone breaking into the house."
This is a pure lie -- a total fabrication -- and I told her so. I know perfectly well that on plenty of other occasions when we spent the night at my parents' house, she did not pack a weapon. So what was she planning? Was she going to kill us all? Or make a dramatic last stand and then kill herself? Both? Or what? My private theory is that she didn't have a plan, and in fact that she didn't even know why she packed it. But that doesn't make me feel any better.
Anyway, that's how I confiscated the handgun.
Coda
Later in the week we went to one of Son 1's sports events, went out to see a silly summer movie, got pizza and ice cream ... fun stuff. I read aloud a funny essay I had found. And Monday morning I took D to the rental car office, from which she was going to drive herself a few hours away to visit some relatives. First stop, of course, was her adult daughter, whose comments on the week you have already read here.
This will have to do for now ... it's more than I really had time to write, but no matter. I want to add another post or two that spend more time thinking about what happened, not just narrating it. But that's for another day.
Revisiting the week as I wrote this, I think it is pretty likely I won't have any friends left in the blogosphere by the time they finish reading it. (sigh) I hope it helps that I am aware of the problem. I am trying to figure out the next steps from here.
Cleaning
[Saturday] D started by helping the boys tidy their room and put away their laundry. Only they couldn't close their dresser drawers because of the huge numbers of shirts falling out of them. Wife says "If they'd only hang up their shirts it would be no problem." D asks the boys, "What are these shirts? Can you show me? Do they still fit? Do you like them or wear them?" Then she weeded out a couple of bags worth of shirts that no longer fit and/or that neither boy was willing to let touch his body. And suddenly the dresser drawers closed nicely.
[Sunday, Monday] D and I totally rearranged the storage units. Wife and I have rented a storage unit ever since we moved into our house. You may recall that back in January we had to rent a second unit because of all the junk we moved out of the house. Well, two units cost twice as much as one unit (fancy that!) and the expense was getting to be a nuisance. D and I rearranged things so that we could consolidate into one unit, and surrender the second one. And mostly we succeeded at this by simple geometry ... we really threw out very little. (Well, ... considering.)
Also, D cleaned the bathrooms again. Yes, she had done that back in January. It is possible somebody else might have done it since then, but I'm not taking bets.
[Tuesday, Wednesday] Then she started in on the living room, which had been left out the last time around. The boys had left a bunch of junk lying around, and there were books strewn. Also the room was hard to use (and therefore drifted into being a junk depository) because of the way the bookshelves and furniture were arranged. OK, well D got the boys to pick up their own stuff. She consulted a bit and we agreed that the brick-and-board shelf had to come down ... that would improve the space enormously. (I would swear that Wife was in on this agreement, but maybe she thought we were talking about something else.) So D went to work on the shelves, pulling down books to dust them and asking what could get donated to charity or the library or something. As the project went on, she got significantly more aggressive on this point; and in the end we must have culled somewhere over a thousand books. Not that this really stripped our living room, you understand ... there must be twice that many still on the shelves. Or more.
[Thursday] Last thing was to organize a whole box of filing into which I had been pitching papers pell-mell for a long, long time. She did ask me (several times) if I had any intention of ever dealing with the papers, and was tolerant when I said yes.
Other chores
D did a lot of laundry -- every day -- and did the dishes after every meal. (She doesn't believe in dishwashers.) She also offered to help Son 2 pack for a big two-week expedition he was leaving for -- call it a campout, which is close enough. She helped me plan, shop for, and cook the meals. She made a huge raft of sandwiches for Son 1's sports team, which had a number of games during the week. There's probably more that I'm forgetting.
Sex
Since D was staying in our house, there wasn't really a good venue for sex. But we improvised the best we could, using what little standing room we could find in the storage units and the garage. I can't say either of those venues worked for me terribly well, but they did seem to work for D -- rapturously and repeatedly. At any rate she certainly sounded like she was enjoying herself ... and the loss of muscular control is something I'd only ever read about before. I take all that as a good sign. (Seriously, it could sound like I'm griping and I'm not; given the very tight constraints, I think the sex was one of the things that worked out best during the whole week.)
Fights
There were a lot of them.
Wife blamed D for throwing away all those shirts; although honestly I had wanted to do the same thing for years. Wife buys stuff without any visible regard for whether we need it or already have it; I have enough shirts to go to work for three weeks without repeating a single one, but she still tells me I need a few more. The thing is that I'm too dilatory or slothful to get around to purging the boys's shirts, to say nothing of wanting to avoid the inevitable fight that it would (and did) generate. But when there were so many shirts that they would never wear, it was the right thing to do.
D for her part got progressively more irritated at Wife's refusal to say Please or Thank you or even Hello, at Wife's seeming inability even to notice when D was scrubbing her fingers to the bone cleaning caked shit out of the inside rims of our toilets, and at Wife's consistent failure to make even the smallest gesture of politeness: Can I get you something? Would you like a glass of water? One way of explaining this neglect would be to say that Wife didn't want D to do the things she was doing, but it is pretty hard to think that about scrubbing the toilets. Nor does it explain similar rudenesses over breakfast or dinner, when no work was being done at all (except for cooking or washing up). In any event, when Wife shouted about some of the other topics, D shot back with this one.
Wife resented the hell out of our pruning the books, and truth to tell we probably went overboard. But the way she reacted wasn't very productive, because it mostly meant repeating the refrain, "You can't throw those away because their mine, mine, mine, all mine! Do you hear me? Mine, mine, MINE!" This just cemented D's diagnosis that owning all this stuff has totally distorted Wife's view of the world, making it all about her. Since Wife acquires the stuff with no concern for whether we will need it or ever use it, the overall pattern looks unhealthy. And no, D was not terribly gentle about explaining this back to Wife; rather, when Wife had screeched for long enough at D, D would shout back at her to open her eyes up to other people besides herself. The point about basic civility (see the preceding paragraph) fit in here too.
Occasionally Wife would argue that she needed these or those scholarly tomes because she still reads them on a regular basis and is going to go back to scholarship any day now. Mind you, she failed her master's exams nearly fifteen years ago and hasn't seen the inside of a university since then. The "scholarly tomes" in question were all covered in spider webs and insect droppings, so they probably hadn't been used all that recently. But Wife claimed that they had been and would be, all the same. This argument just contributed to the impression both D and I have, that Wife spends most of her time in a world of make-believe.
Wife was also angry that D offered to help Son 2 pack for his expedition. What was she trying to say, that Wife wasn't good enough to pack her own son? (Somehow the topic had shifted from getting the work done to whether Wife was good enough ... but don't conclude that this is self-absorption.) Now, Son 2 is a gentler and more sensitive kid than Son 1, and I really didn't want him being caught between two such dominant women. So I pushed both of them away (figuratively) and insisted that Son 2 should pack himself. After all, if he's going to be gone for two weeks, he'll have to be able to take care of that. This seemed to work out OK.
Shortly after we finished with the books, Wife went out to get "one last thing" that Son 2 would need for his trip. She came back not having found it, but having bought a big box of candles (we have candles already, not that we use them), some personal electronics (for which we have no need), and a pair of $60 earrings (she must have hundreds of earrings). I lost my temper at this and took the bags away from her. I went immediately back to the store to return them. In the process, I also took Wife's wallet and hid it somewhere I am reasonably sure she can't retrieve it. (I can, easily enough.)
That's how I confiscated Wife's wallet.
While I am still speaking of the wallet, I should explain a couple of things. I let her keep her driver's license and all her keys. She recently set up an ATM card with our bank that lets her access two separate accounts holding inheritance money from a relative that recently died. These accounts are in her name alone, so I have no ownership rights on them. And I let her keep that ATM card. (Between them they add to something over $23,000.00 ... so as long as she is willing to drive to the bank, she has access to plenty of money.) I also let her keep her insurance ID cards and her library card. So she is not without resources. But I hope to impede her ability mindlessly to piss away our common resources as long as she is making such irrational buying decisions.
While I was gone, she spent the time murmuring softly to Son 2 about what a beast I am and how she won't put up with it any longer, until he was curled up on his bed crying in fetal position. (Nice send-off for his big trip, huh?) When I came back and found out, I told her "No more. You are going to be happy and cheerful until Son 2 leaves tomorrow evening. I don't care what anybody does to you or says to you, but you are not going to say a single, solitary unpleasant thing until that time. Then after he leaves, you can say anything you want." She couldn't make herself be pleasant, but she did succeed in shutting up, which I guess is the next best thing.
She also got on the phone to Boyfriend 5 ... or no, I guess it was Friend. That's when I picked up her cell phone, insisting that she deal with the here-and-now instead of fleeing into fantasy land. I handed the phone to D, saying I was really too upset to know what to do with it. D put it somewhere around the house. I'm sure it will turn up.
That's what happened to the cell phone.
Travel and heat
The next day we took Son 2 to the spot where he was embarking on his big trip. Everyone said nice things to him, and we all hurrahed him off. (Wife sulked when she wasn't actually talking to him, but never mind.) Then we went from there to visit my parents and spent the night. The next morning we hung out at my parents' house for a while, preparing a big barbecue for lunch. D spent a lot of time chatting with them and getting to know them.
After I took a shower that morning, I couldn't find my comb so I checked in Wife's bag for one. I didn't find a comb, but I did find her Smith & Wesson 38. Now, I don't know about you but I honestly can't think of any legitimate reason for her to have brought a handgun along on this trip. So I lifted it out of the bag and hid it at my parents' house. I also told my parents -- and D -- what I had found.
Not ten minutes later, Wife asked me in a long-suffering voice to give her back her handgun. I asked her why she had brought it. Her answer was, "I always carry it whenever I go anywhere, so that it can't get stolen by someone breaking into the house."
This is a pure lie -- a total fabrication -- and I told her so. I know perfectly well that on plenty of other occasions when we spent the night at my parents' house, she did not pack a weapon. So what was she planning? Was she going to kill us all? Or make a dramatic last stand and then kill herself? Both? Or what? My private theory is that she didn't have a plan, and in fact that she didn't even know why she packed it. But that doesn't make me feel any better.
Anyway, that's how I confiscated the handgun.
Coda
Later in the week we went to one of Son 1's sports events, went out to see a silly summer movie, got pizza and ice cream ... fun stuff. I read aloud a funny essay I had found. And Monday morning I took D to the rental car office, from which she was going to drive herself a few hours away to visit some relatives. First stop, of course, was her adult daughter, whose comments on the week you have already read here.
This will have to do for now ... it's more than I really had time to write, but no matter. I want to add another post or two that spend more time thinking about what happened, not just narrating it. But that's for another day.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Sixth date 3, Letter from D
I realize it is kind of silly to keep posting letters that reflect on the week when I haven't told you anything about the week itself yet. But I really am not planning this out very clearly or well. As a result, when something drops into my hands that is relevant, I am going to post it before it gets away from me. Over while, I hope a mosaic picture will emerge.
D left this morning to visit other relatives, including her adult daughter. This evening she sent me the following e-mail:
Dearest Hosea,
I told [my adult daughter] something about our relationship and the week. She is very disappointed at my behavior and believes that I should end the relationship with you until we both are clearer about our respective marriages. I knew I risked receiving a message that would be very difficult to hear, but I'm also confused enough to ask for help.... I respect her clear-eyed view, and thus I am feeling considerably subdued and thoughtful.
Let's see if I can organize this material into some sort of pattern. I'll start with [Wife], move to you and finish with me.... Never doubt my love for you; but let's reconsider everything else.
There is no question that [Wife] is right on almost all the basics. I did take over tasks that were no business of mine and I did get rid of huge amounts of stuff that frankly was not mine to make decisions about. I did insult and shout at her. I took your side and made her life more and more difficult as the week went on. I'm not justifying her packing a gun, but she was certainly right on some emotional level to think that together, we threatened almost everything in her life. We did; we do.
That said, [Wife] is not stable. This is not new, but you are right to think that her complex mental and physical health problems have worsened greatly in the last two years. She is miserable herself, and toxic to others, and she has almost no ability to change or even any desire to try. [Wife] has no belief in anything or anyone; her faith life is as false as her regard for her family and friends. She is lost in a dozen ways. This confusion and self-centered outlook also makes her dangerous.... I am afraid she is capable of doing something unforgivable and tragic.
The house and all the mess, all the useless and ugly things [Wife] has bought and acquired over the years have been purchased and preserved with your agreement, however reluctant and passive ... to preserve elements of peace and to provide some stability for your beloved boys. Your decision to do so is almost certainly a mistake; it has brought her closer to moral and intellectual ruin, and you are increasingly isolated and unhappy.... [Another e-mail friend] is absolutely right to say you have had almost no power in your personal life. Your reactions, passive-aggressive at times, and angry in other situations have not helped to shift the power balance. The situation is critical now because it so obviously impacts the children. I would like to think that your willingness to join the blogging community and later, your relationship with me, are signs that you have decided to turn to others for understanding and support.
After this week, it is clear that your clinical depression is something I have to factor in every matter involving you. It is quite serious, and affects you deeply. You can be fine; charming, intellectually stimulating, and in charge, and then turn on a dime...become timid, paralyzed by the smallest decision, exhausted, passive and deeply unhappy.... Sometimes you check out entirely, but most of the time when you are depressed, I believe you are truly confused and saddened by events that have spun out of control....
My behavior...is probably inexcusable on many levels. First, I am certainly not helping either you or [Wife] deal with each other or make wise decisions about your marriage. I can no longer pretend to be neutral; after our sexual relationship began, I am not able to mediate effectively, even if I was able to do so in the past. Second, I am not being fair to the members of your family and my family by having an affair with you. If [my husband or my other children] found out, they would be deeply hurt and shocked. If [your children] discovered our love for one another, they would feel as though you had betrayed their mother. We cannot avoid the consequences of our behavior...and I am deeply afraid that we will be found out, sooner or later.
I have not filed for divorce; perhaps I have felt as though the status quo is acceptable because I am afraid you will never leave your wife and I don't want to live by myself. You have not filed for divorce because of your love and hope for [Wife], your passivity and diffidence which is part of depression, and because it is most unclear how she would survive if you left. Neither of us have decided definitively what to do about our marriages, and [my adult daughter] may be right to say our marriages must be resolved, one way or another before we can truly commit to one another and talk about forging a life together. Right now, she feels I am acting immorally and perhaps setting you and the boys up for disaster. If [Wife] finds out, will she react passively? Or will she feel so betrayed by both of us that only violence will suffice? My worst nightmare is not losing the respect and love of my family, but being responsible for harm done to you or the boys.
It is clear that I cannot be a friend to both you and [Wife]; even if you decide to end our relationship, I cannot continue to befriend [Wife]. Frankly, I don't admire and respect her any longer. Her denigration of you is intolerable on so many levels; I simply don't want to listen to her lies and bitterness and excuses any longer. Her materialism, her selfishness and her unkindness make her the last person I would ever think of as a confidant and friend. I am deeply sorry; I have so many wonderful memories of her. But the person in your home today is a shadow of the woman I once loved. I will not return to [your city].
But you...I love you beyond measure. I have considered leaving you...but I can't, not now, not without both of us sitting together, talking to each other and considering what is to be done. I love you far too much to simply walk away and wish you well. I do have terrible fears about hurting those I have loved so long and well, but I also love you with a deep and abiding love that remains, even when I know what I am doing is wrong and potentially extremely harmful. But to cut you from my heart, my mind, myself...not yet, not without more thought and prayer and discussion.
Take care, my darling. Be well.
.
D left this morning to visit other relatives, including her adult daughter. This evening she sent me the following e-mail:
Dearest Hosea,
I told [my adult daughter] something about our relationship and the week. She is very disappointed at my behavior and believes that I should end the relationship with you until we both are clearer about our respective marriages. I knew I risked receiving a message that would be very difficult to hear, but I'm also confused enough to ask for help.... I respect her clear-eyed view, and thus I am feeling considerably subdued and thoughtful.
Let's see if I can organize this material into some sort of pattern. I'll start with [Wife], move to you and finish with me.... Never doubt my love for you; but let's reconsider everything else.
There is no question that [Wife] is right on almost all the basics. I did take over tasks that were no business of mine and I did get rid of huge amounts of stuff that frankly was not mine to make decisions about. I did insult and shout at her. I took your side and made her life more and more difficult as the week went on. I'm not justifying her packing a gun, but she was certainly right on some emotional level to think that together, we threatened almost everything in her life. We did; we do.
That said, [Wife] is not stable. This is not new, but you are right to think that her complex mental and physical health problems have worsened greatly in the last two years. She is miserable herself, and toxic to others, and she has almost no ability to change or even any desire to try. [Wife] has no belief in anything or anyone; her faith life is as false as her regard for her family and friends. She is lost in a dozen ways. This confusion and self-centered outlook also makes her dangerous.... I am afraid she is capable of doing something unforgivable and tragic.
The house and all the mess, all the useless and ugly things [Wife] has bought and acquired over the years have been purchased and preserved with your agreement, however reluctant and passive ... to preserve elements of peace and to provide some stability for your beloved boys. Your decision to do so is almost certainly a mistake; it has brought her closer to moral and intellectual ruin, and you are increasingly isolated and unhappy.... [Another e-mail friend] is absolutely right to say you have had almost no power in your personal life. Your reactions, passive-aggressive at times, and angry in other situations have not helped to shift the power balance. The situation is critical now because it so obviously impacts the children. I would like to think that your willingness to join the blogging community and later, your relationship with me, are signs that you have decided to turn to others for understanding and support.
After this week, it is clear that your clinical depression is something I have to factor in every matter involving you. It is quite serious, and affects you deeply. You can be fine; charming, intellectually stimulating, and in charge, and then turn on a dime...become timid, paralyzed by the smallest decision, exhausted, passive and deeply unhappy.... Sometimes you check out entirely, but most of the time when you are depressed, I believe you are truly confused and saddened by events that have spun out of control....
My behavior...is probably inexcusable on many levels. First, I am certainly not helping either you or [Wife] deal with each other or make wise decisions about your marriage. I can no longer pretend to be neutral; after our sexual relationship began, I am not able to mediate effectively, even if I was able to do so in the past. Second, I am not being fair to the members of your family and my family by having an affair with you. If [my husband or my other children] found out, they would be deeply hurt and shocked. If [your children] discovered our love for one another, they would feel as though you had betrayed their mother. We cannot avoid the consequences of our behavior...and I am deeply afraid that we will be found out, sooner or later.
I have not filed for divorce; perhaps I have felt as though the status quo is acceptable because I am afraid you will never leave your wife and I don't want to live by myself. You have not filed for divorce because of your love and hope for [Wife], your passivity and diffidence which is part of depression, and because it is most unclear how she would survive if you left. Neither of us have decided definitively what to do about our marriages, and [my adult daughter] may be right to say our marriages must be resolved, one way or another before we can truly commit to one another and talk about forging a life together. Right now, she feels I am acting immorally and perhaps setting you and the boys up for disaster. If [Wife] finds out, will she react passively? Or will she feel so betrayed by both of us that only violence will suffice? My worst nightmare is not losing the respect and love of my family, but being responsible for harm done to you or the boys.
It is clear that I cannot be a friend to both you and [Wife]; even if you decide to end our relationship, I cannot continue to befriend [Wife]. Frankly, I don't admire and respect her any longer. Her denigration of you is intolerable on so many levels; I simply don't want to listen to her lies and bitterness and excuses any longer. Her materialism, her selfishness and her unkindness make her the last person I would ever think of as a confidant and friend. I am deeply sorry; I have so many wonderful memories of her. But the person in your home today is a shadow of the woman I once loved. I will not return to [your city].
But you...I love you beyond measure. I have considered leaving you...but I can't, not now, not without both of us sitting together, talking to each other and considering what is to be done. I love you far too much to simply walk away and wish you well. I do have terrible fears about hurting those I have loved so long and well, but I also love you with a deep and abiding love that remains, even when I know what I am doing is wrong and potentially extremely harmful. But to cut you from my heart, my mind, myself...not yet, not without more thought and prayer and discussion.
Take care, my darling. Be well.
.
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