Second date 6, The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come

Friday morning, D was scrubbing the bathrooms while I sorted papers in the (now usable) study. At one point she came into the study for a moment and said, "This should really be the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come for you." I looked up quizzically but she had gone back to work.

A little later, I stuck my head in while she was working and asked "The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come"? She agreed without breaking her concentration for a moment, "Yes, exactly."

I had no idea what she was talking about, but I didn't think it was a good time to ask her to explain.

It might have been a long time before I had a chance to ask her what she meant, were it not -- oddly enough -- for Boyfriend 5. Now, I haven't written a lot about Boyfriend 5 for a long time, and indeed he hadn't been in evidence this whole week. Honestly I had given no attention to his disappearance, because there was so much else going on that I hadn't noticed one way or the other. But Wife had been doing a lot less of the work during this week -- and had spent a lot more of her time lying in bed with a headache -- so she was painfully aware that it had been days since she had heard anything from Boyfriend 5, since before Christmas in fact. Where was he? Why hadn't he been in touch with her? Why was there no word from him at all?

I had no idea that Wife was going through these agonies; but when D took a break between bathrooms, Wife poured out her heart to her. She was desperately worried, she was lonely, she was afraid something had happened, she didn't know what to think -- but where was he? Why hadn't he contacted her in all this time? What was she going to do?

Wife was crying by this time. D asked her, Have you tried to IM him?

Yes, and I've heard nothing.

Have you tried to call him?

I don't have his phone number, and anyway he is in the Old Country so the call would be way too expensive.

Do you know anybody else you could call?

Oh sure, I have the phone number of a close friend of his in the States ... but I haven't called him either.

What? If you are this upset, why haven't you called Friend?

Hosea would never allow it. I've told you how controlling he is, and he has such an irrational hatred of these people that he would forbid me to make the call.

He'd forbid it? How could he do that?

Oh, D, you don't have any idea how awful Hosea can be.

D smiled to herself, and then asked, How about if I get him out of the house for an hour? Could you call Friend then?

Yes, oh please, I would love to. But Hosea is so awful and so controlling -- do you think you could possibly pull him away from this clean-up task?

Let me try.

Oh thank you D, you're a true friend!

D walked into the study where I was still sorting papers, oblivious to the drama that was playing out in the next room. She said peremptorily, "Hosea, come with me. Walk and talk." I had no idea what was going on, but of course I was glad to take a break and spend a little time with D ... so I dropped what I was doing and we went out to walk around the block.

Of course my first question was, To what do I owe the break? D filled me in briefly on the situation with Boyfriend 5, and how Wife wanted to call Friend. This told me we had at least an hour to walk around ... not enough time to go back to D's motel, but plenty of time to talk.

So my second question was, What did you mean by your remark about the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come?

D said, Oh that. All I meant was that having someone else scrubbing your bathrooms for you should be like the Ghost appearing to talk to you. Sorry, I thought that was clear.

I'm still mystified.

Let me try to spell it out. Do you remember Dickens's story A Christmas Carol? The three Ghosts appear to Scrooge, and they show him Christmases Past, Present, and Future. But there is more to it than just showing him these scenes. The message that they keep repeating is "You have to change the life you have been leading. If you don't amend your life -- your whole life -- then this is how it is going to be from here on out." And Hosea, that's how it is for you. You have been living a certain way, and I have seen more of your life in this week than I ever saw before in nineteen years. And you can't keep living like this! Or you can, ... but if you do then this is the way your life is going to look, on into the future forever. Hosea, life can be glorious and golden and rich and joyful -- and you are missing all of that. And the state of your house just shows this so plainly. You can't keep waiting. You can't keep waiting for Wife to change, for her to be more responsible around the house, for her to feel more joy in her own life or to communicate any more joy to the people around her. If you keep waiting, nothing is going to happen. If you keep waiting for her to take some initiative around the house, you will never be rid of the squalor. And if you keep waiting for her to feel joy before you let yourself feel any joy, then life is going to pass you by completely. And it doesn't have to be like that.

Do you remember, she went on, how you once told me that for you love is not an emotion? You used the metaphor of the ocean, and you said that love isn't the splashing and spray up on the surface, which come and go with the weather, be it calm or storm. You said love is more like the rock floor underneath, which is absolutely solid and which stays the same always -- regardless of the storms up above. It's a perfect metaphor, but you missed the most important part. After all, the most vital part of the ocean -- the part that gives life to our whole planet -- are the currents, which are between the surface and the floor. They are permanent too, or almost -- the Gulf Stream has flowed the same way for hundreds of years, if not thousands. But they aren't static, like the rock floor. The are always in motion, always surging, always alive. That's what love really is! Yes, it is stable and steady; no, it doesn't come and go with trivia. But it moves, it is alive, and it gives life to everyone around it. This is what you have been missing from your life, and you have got to change your life before it's too late -- so you don't continue to miss it forever.

I hardly knew what to say at this point. D was no longer just talking as we walked -- she had turned to me directly, practically pinning me to a hedge by the sidewalk, and was urging me passionately, from the heart. But it was hard for me to translate this into concrete advice, something I could start doing tomorrow. Did she mean that I should be more diligent in cleaning the house, or that I should run away with her to Australia?

I tried to ask, somewhat feebly, what all this meant for me in daily life.

Hosea, she replied in a tone halfway between exasperation and pleading, you have CDs in your cabinet that were Christmas gifts a year ago, that are still wrapped in cellophane. This doesn't have to be mysterious -- if you want somewhere to start, rip off the damned cellophane and play the music! Music was made to be enjoyed, to be lived -- this is the stuff that love is made out of! Don't leave it wrapped up in the god-damned cellophane for eternity. Don't make your boys grow up their whole childhoods in silence. Fill your house with music! That would be a start, at least ...!

OK, that I can do.

This walk gave me a lot to think about. D spoke with such passion and urgency that I'm not at all sure I understood it all. I'm not even sure I remember everything she said. But the part I do remember? I'm going to have to think about this for a long time before I am confident I understand it. I also know that it is important.

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