Thursday, October 25, 2007

It Happens Like This

It happens like this. One moment you're going along, and you know it's been a difficult year - your mother's had cancer; your child turned three and temporarily lost the ability to sleep; you're been told you're post-menopausal way, way before your time; your husband's been off work all summer with a wretched back injury and an employer with less compassion than a gnat -but you're coping.

You're not only coping, you think you're making it work, and in fact you've finally cracked the writer's block and the confidence stuff and you've discovered you can write words that make other people cry, and in many ways, yes it's been one hell of a summer, but you're personally happier than you have ever been. You don't notice that you've taken your eye off the most important ball. You notice the anger, and the mood swings and the apathy, of course you do, but you don't say hang on, are you still happy, like me?

So then the trees shed one leaf too many and you're bare, bare like the branches, thinking How did this happen? How did I get here? and your husband is sending your brother a text message meant for the woman down the road and it would be funny if it weren't so very close to the bone, shall we say the bone marrow of your family, my family, my life.

Then, there's rage. There's that hour on the bench overlooking the view on the most beautiful day of the year, and those two trees against the skyline with the perfect, little tree in between, smouldering autumn trees which shouldn't be so beautiful on a day like this, when life has taken such a daft, unexpected turn. Weather does its own thing, though. Weather can be ironic.

Four nights apart help. Us, of course, not the child. The child who asks and asks and says and says, even though she took him to the airport because I thought it would make his sudden departure more real. Better than him walking out the front door and not coming back for four days.

So now it's a week later and the world's still turning. It does that, always, it's a good thing to know. The ground I stand on is not firm anymore, but at least I still have a Bim in my life and at least there is talking and love. I couldn't have been more delusional, he said from the country he has longed for all these months, than the strongest narcotic could have made me. And indeed it is clear that his breaking of the faith with us, with me, was the worst sin committed. The woman steered him, even in these early days of friendship, clearly back to me. Which is what you'd hope someone would do.

I look at my year. I look at his. Our lives did not meet very often. We are taking care, now, to make sure that they do.

It happens like this.


Cathy said...

Livvy I'm so sorry. Sometimes these things happen when you are all under other pressures, but I hope you will be able to get everything back on track. Keep talking and keep writing.


Livvy U. said...

Cathy thankyou. I really appreciate your good thoughts.

Debbie said...


How did you become so dear to my heart? We have never met, and yet, probably because you write so well and share so deeply, I feel as if I know you. And I have come to care about your joys and sorrows. I hope you find some comfort and strength knowing that I am not the only one who feels this way.

Keeping you in my prayers,

Sue said...

Hi Livvy

Hope everything is okay, I had to read your blog a couple of times for it to sink in tonight.

Maybe it's true that absence makes the heart grow fonder and gives you that space to realise your true values.

All the best to you and really pleased about your mom from the last post. I did leave a comment, but something must have gone wrong when I clicked.

Take care of yourself.

Sue xx

Livvy U. said...

Debbie your lovely comment means a great deal to me at this time, as do, as you suggest, all the supportive messages I've received. In fact they absolutely keep me going.

Know that you're very important to me, too.

Sue - yes it takes a bit of sinking in doesn't it! But as ever it's never one person's story. I think it's been a great wake-up call. Thanks for the support. x

Stay at home dad said...

It does happen like this: suddenly and brutally. And good people do stupid things. Good luck with everything Livvy.

Livvy U. said...

Yes SAHD mistakes are made by everyone. I've thought alot about my own passive part in this, too. It's never a one-sided equation where love's concerned.

Suffolkmum said...

Oh my goodness Livvy this had me in tears. I'm so sorry - and considering we've never met I feel such a great liking for you too. It also resonated in some deeply uncomfortable ways with me (even down to the menopausal bit) - some uncanny similarities here, though the 'crash' hasn't happened yet - just some very bad driving. Thinking of you.

Marianne said...

You describe the indescribable so well, Livvy. These things happen when the pressure is intense and when you lose touch with each other temporarily. But, you are still talking and as long as you both want this to work, it will. I wish you all the luck in the world.

Livvy U. said...

It's so heartening to know all this goodwill is out there from people I have not met. Thankyou, Suffolkmum and Marianne. x

New Mum in Town said...

This really struck a chord - I'm sorry for the pain and hope things are still better. I'm going to pop in more often if I can.

Livvy U. said...

Welcome, New Mum! Thanks for dropping by - and what a strange post for you to drop in on first, if it is a first visit. Ah well, all human life is here, after all... Things are still getting better, I'm happy to say.
Do come again. Livvy

Pig in the Kitchen said...

Hello Livvy, I wanted to wish you luck. Mending trust is such a difficult job, I hope you can make it work.

debio said...

Oh livvy u. this breaks my heart - I'm sorry I'm so late catching up with this.....

The ubiquitous text message, eh? I might not be hitting the mark here but, please remember, these messages are completely one-dimensional and can be open to misinterpretation.

I could write a book about text meassages - but I never shall.

With you every step of the way....big hugs for you and the little one.

Livvy U. said...

Hello Pig - mending trust, I like that. That's exactly what we're doing. It's going... well, I think.

Yes, they're iniquitous things, Debio - the good thing about this one though is it turned out to be pretty one-sided, so... some things are more important, aren't they. Thanks for good wishes.