Deciding about a funeral

Towards the end of February, we were notified about the upcoming memorial service for a long-time friend of my parents, a man I’ll call, with considerable charity, Tartuffe. For anybody who is keeping track, Tartuffe was the father of Wife’s Boyfriend 3. (I know I haven’t written a lot about him before, but he is the one I characterized as Elmer Gantry way back in this post here. I mentioned that his father was dying last fall here and here .) Anyway, Wife spent some time agonizing over whether to attend the service.

There was a logistical side to the question, because the service was to be be held in a city about four or five hours away from us. Wife is afraid to drive that far by herself, because she might get tired or disoriented. I wasn’t planning to go: I really think I have seen all I need in this lifetime of any of the members of that extended family, and I don't want the boys around them. My parents were going, but they live maybe halfway between us and this other city so it’s not as far for them. (And it would be rather out of the way for them to come fetch her.)

Why did she want to go? A couple of reasons: (1) Wife started off hating Tartuffe, but in the end she probably appreciated his particular brand of craziness better than anyone else. And (2) she figured this would be the last time she'd ever be able to see Boyfriend 3, because Ivy (B3’s wife) was so furious at the affair that she would prevent them ever meeting again. But Ivy couldn't very well interfere with a funeral. So the logistical question was how Wife should get down there. In the end, she called my father and asked for a ride -- with the thought that perhaps he could fetch her on Friday, they could all go to the service together on Saturday, and he could bring her back to our place on Sunday. He said he would have to talk to my mother about it.

But then she told me that she was reconsidering ... maybe she didn't want to go after all.

Hosea: Really? Why not?

"Well," she said with some asperity, "I hadn't realized that Boyfriend 3 had told his father all about the affair, and that his father had told your father all about it too."

Hosea: Mmmm?

Yes, well apparently all my father had said was that Tartuffe had always had a lascivious imagination and that my dad assumed in his later years he got carried away with it. This is a really vague, nebulous, almost meaningless statement, but it is the sort of thing my dad says when he is trying not to say something else. And then apparently my father had gone on to say that Ivy was still very jealous of Wife.

Hosea: Really? That's all?

I reminded Wife that she had told me almost identically the same story some four years ago; so it sounded to me like nothing in particular had changed between then and now in terms of who has told whom what.

Wife: [in a stage whisper] And I'm sure you've told them all about it too.

Hosea: Huh? I asked. What are you getting at?

No answer.

Hosea: OK look. It sounds to me like nothing has changed in the last four years.

Wife: [sullenly] Well I never knew before today that your dad had heard about Boyfriend 3 and me.

Hosea: Oh come on, you told me the exact same story nearly word for word, years ago. So yes, of course you knew all about it. And you have enjoyed my parents' hospitality plenty of times since then, like at Christmas, or earlier this month when we went down to visit. So if nothing has changed since then, and if it was fine then, why not now?

Wife: [still bitterly] Yes, I went down for Christmas. And all they wanted to know when we were down there is why we were splitting up. I just told them we didn't seem to be able to get along any more.

Hosea: But of course. If you introduce a topic of conversation [I know from things my father has said that she was the one to bring up the subject of divorce] then it is only reasonable to expect people to ask, "Oh really? Tell me all about it." That's just polite, and if they hadn't asked you'd be complaining that they didn't care about anything you said. So anyway, what is the big difference between then and now, as far as holding up your face in front of my parents is concerned?

She said she didn't want to talk about it any more and stalked off to the bedroom.

When dinner was on autopilot for a few minutes, I ambled back to rejoin the conversation and proposed a different way of looking at the situation. "If you are worried about people talking," I said, "you'll never stop them talking by staying away. They'll still talk regardless. All you achieve by staying away is depriving yourself of the chance to be at Tartuffe's memorial service. And you probably felt more kinship with his odd perspective than many people did. (She made an affirmative noise.) So where is the sense in your staying away? I mean, do what you want either way; but I don't think the things you are talking about have much bearing on it."

Rather than answering, she launched in a different direction by saying, "I also don't know what your father meant when he told Ivy that after all the changes I've gone through lately I'm no threat any more."

Hosea: [thinks to self: Gosh, I have a really good idea what he meant! But it would have been gratuitously unkind to say so. So instead I said, ...] I have no idea what he meant. I'm lousy at reading minds. Did you ask him?

Wife: No, I just assumed he meant that I no longer have the charm or looks or sparkle or intelligence to catch a man's attention any more. It's nice to know [she added, pouting] that I've become a devoted spinster.

I wasn't sure what to say to that, and pretty soon it was dinner time. After dinner, as she was settling into bed, I thought of something else.

Hosea: You know, you told me once long ago that my father had said things to you that made you think he knew about you and Boyfriend 1, too. And that was many years ago. So it really doesn't seem like you have anything to worry about here.

Wife: Oh sure, she said. Why don't we just haul all of them out?

Hosea: Huh? I'm not sure what you mean.

Wife: You know, your father also accused me of sleeping with your brother! [What is that supposed to prove???]

Hosea: I don't know what you are getting at. I'm just saying that maybe you are worrying over something which is a non-issue. I mean, it seems like whatever you are worrying about that would keep you from attending, that horse ran out of the barn years ago. It's probably pretty silly to worry about locking the door now.

Wife: [deep sigh] Well, Boyfriend 3 promised me that he wouldn't tell anybody.

Hosea: Oh, but you're not angry about that, are you? Having people talk about you when you have an affair pretty much comes with the territory. Besides, it looks to me like a pretty good example of a "natural consequence" like we are always trying to teach the boys. You know, if you do this there is a good risk you will experience that. So you had your eyes open to the possibilities when you walked into the affair in the first place. [In fact, I don't for a minute believe she was aware of the probable consequences when she fell into bed with Boyfriend 3. I think Wife is very bad at forseeing the consequences of her actions. But I wanted to plant the suggestion that she had in fact been smart enough to see that far ahead, in order thereby to plant the suggestion that she isn't really angry or bitter. It sounds far-fetched, but I'm not convinced it was entirely a fool's errand. Moving on, I used the following analogy ....] It's like if you are late for something so you decide to speed down the highway. You know that if you speed, you run a certain percent risk of getting caught by the sheriff and getting a ticket. So if you are caught you aren't mad at the sheriff ... because you knew from the get-go that it was a possibility. And it is the same thing here, with facing the consequence of being talked-about. You knew that was a chance before you started up in the first place.

Wife: Well, I thought the benefits outweighed the costs, but I was wrong about that. And that's what I regret the most: that I lost a really great friendship in the bargain.

Now, personally, I'm not sure I see how that particular friendship could possibly have stayed out of bed forever, because both of them were needy and insecure, and both of them had weak or missing personal boundaries. But again, it would have been unkind to say that. What I said instead was, ....

Hosea: I think that's another one of these risks of any affair, again like getting a ticket when you are speeding. Certainly nothing to be angry about. But just one of those things. Heck, you’ve read a lot of literature. You must have read hundreds of works where making a friendship sexual ruins the friendship. So you must have known it could happen. ["Hundreds of works of literature"??? Where the heck did that come from? Sometimes these things just pop into my mouth and I say them even if they make no sense. But she didn't bat an eye.]

Wife: Hmmm. Well, I hear Ivy is still doing Weight Watchers, so at least I would have the sweet revenge of walking in wearing a size 6. [I think I have mentioned that Wife used to be very heavy.]

Inside I thought, My God you must be kidding. You look 80 years old, and not even an attractive 80. You looked way better a hundred pounds heavier than you are now. But what I really said was, ...

Hosea: Gosh, is revenge that important to you?

Wife: Well, Ivy accused me of a lot of things that weren't true.

Hosea: Of course she did. [I don't know if she did or not, but it hardly matters in this context.] But that's just what you would expect her to do. If you were writing this situation up in a novel, that's exactly what you would make the Ivy-character do. So you can't possibly be mad at her for that.

Wife: Hmmm. I need to sleep.
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P.S.: In the end, the weather was inclement enough that my parents decided not to make the trip, so the whole discusion was moot. Life is a series of anticlimaxes.