Saturday, October 26, 2019

The Big Lie



I want to revisit my abortive attempt at detente with Amy to highlight an interesting determination we made together  -- before permanently burying the whole contaminated matter in the bowels of Yucca Mountain.
As I may have mentioned, the day after we had our little tete-a-tete Amy emailed me that she wanted no further contact with me. Okay, I emailed her back, you're the boss.
That evening, as I was relaxing with a desultory viewing of Hotel Transylvania on the FreeForm cable channel, she pulls up to my patio. I hastily jumped into a pair of flannel pajama pants and welcomed her in with a quizzical smile.
"I thought you said you wanted no more contact" I said by way of preamble.
"I blocked your email account, so I didn't know if you got my message or not" was her reply -- which she made sound perfectly logical. Then she started to ramble on and on about a variety of inanities that have no place in this narrative (thank the good Lord.)
But at one point she said something that forced me to interrupt her.
"I had to practically raise the children myself because you were always off playing circus . . . " she began.
"Wait!" I held up my hand, a bit imperiously perhaps. "Wait. Y'know something, we've been saying that, agreeing to that story for a long time -- but you know and I know that it just isn't true. If we go back, year by year, the truth is I spent most of my time at home, not on the road. We just let that traveling story evolve out of resentment and laziness."  
She didn't want to do it; she resisted the idea; but I took us back, year by year, over our 15 years of marriage, and we toted up the approximate amount of time I was away from home with the circus. And believe me when I say Amy has an exceptionally keen mind when it comes to the times and seasons of our married life together. My time away from home came to just about five years, in total. One third of our time together. The other two thirds of the time I was at home, working regular, usually miserable, jobs or moping about unemployed, reading to the kids at night, taking Amy out on dates, holding down Church callings, and writing several novels, plays, a humor column for the magazine 'Circus Report,' and my autobiography 'Clown Notes.'
I'm not blaming Amy for perpetuating the myth that I was always away from home with the circus -- for I always do it, too, when talking to anyone about our failed marriage; it is an easy way to explain why we failed as a couple. BUT THAT'S NOT WHAT REALLY HAPPENED.
She admitted as much to me, and we both agreed that we would probably go right on telling that lie to acquaintances and the grand kids instead of trying to straighten things out. It's just easier. We had relaxed in each other's company enough by then to grin and chuckle about it. So now you know the real truth. And . . . so what? Doesn't matter in the least, does it? But I felt like it was a minor victory for me, and for sanity in general.
After she left last night I dug into my memories of the time after the divorce, and I can say with assurance that THAT is when I really did my traveling -- with circuses, down to Mexico to teach English, and off to Thailand twice. I was never in one place for more than six months. My restlessness was obsessive and morbid. Only poverty, a stint of homelessness, and failing health have slowed me down now so that I no longer want to hit the road as a clown or go back to Thailand to teach English and chase girls. These days part of my nightly prayers never varies -- I beg God to let me die here in this little apartment, because I never want to travel again, never want to move again, never want to sleep in a strange bed again, or have no bed of my own to sleep in at all. I have arrived at what I hope is my final destination and safe harbor, please God . . . 


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An email response to this post from my friend Rob:

Before I read your latest, I wanted to tell you a few things, so I won't forget.  Tom subscribed to the New Yorker magazine.  I chose an article to read that looked interesting.  Something about sin and the effects of it.  It was some fiction piece about 5 pages long.  I got through the first column and thought it wasn't very good, and that you are considerably better.  I read a bit more on a later column, and I couldn't sit through any more.  I don't know what their criteria are.  Maybe you have to be someone important somehow.  But I can tell you I'd rather read your stories than the one I tried to read.  

The second thing is at the end page there are three cartoons.  I guess someone draws something and then people get a chance to add text, and they have a contest to see who had the funniest/best one.  There were a couple of good ones, but you'd do just as well.

Okay, now I'll read your latest...

Well, I don't know what to think about the last part about the safe harbor.  I can understand a bit of it, in that I don't desire to be in anyone else's bed, or get involved with another woman.  And those travel experiences are exhausting and lonely and troublesome, because I don't just sit and enjoy what's around me.  I don't know that I've learned my lesson yet.  I've been thinking of trying to get to Cuba for the music, mostly, and Africa for the antipode, partially.  I'm losing vacation time when I don't take it and keep working.

The fact she came back to visit you indicates to me that you still have some sway with her.  She was probably a bit moved that you wanted to be amorous with her, and got a kick out of feeling in control.  So, you did that for her, and maybe that was what you wanted to do.  Maybe it wasn't a subconscious thing you did.  Maybe you planned it, knowing what the outcome would be.  If so, you are superior to her, and she fell for it.  She came back to you with a lame excuse of not knowing if you responded.  Congratulations.  You won after all.

It's good you set the record straight with her regarding time away, if that's the real reason for the breakup.  It doesn't matter, though, because you both know each other well enough, and at least you can talk.  I cannot talk with my ex nor do I ever want to.  She has totally convinced me it would do me no good, and she'd still think she's perfect.  Your Amy is a lot better than my ex.

I am actually impressed though Tim, that you have always been kind to her.  You've always professed your love for her.  It was her who made the mistake of leaving the marriage, and going so far as to break the temple thing, and yet you don't hate her.  I probably would.

You came to mind at least three times today.  I won't go into them specifically, but you've had a good influence on me in a number of ways.  I'm grateful for our friendship.


That and 10c will not buy you a cup of coffee.


And another email response to this post from my friend Bruce:

Thank you for sending this. It does bring a sense of resolution--in several ways, including your sense of where your life is and how you want it continue.  

But my biggest takeaway is--wow! the two of you achieved some honest communication after all! And it's worth noting that honest communication has to be two-sided at least if "communication" is taken in its literal meaning of sharing, communion, mutual partaking (which suggests mutual understanding).

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