The Burning Cold - Part 5

My Dearest Love,

I went out last night - to a Halloween party. It was painfully awkward as I realized just how socially stunted I have become. Most of the people there (if not all) were couples. Most were in our age range. Several knew me from a couple of lifetimes ago - back in the days when you and I met. One of them remembered you from your first marriage.

It was hard to talk. I didn't know what to say. I stood in a corner in the kitchen for much of the time, just like I did that night in the bar with all of the Hell's Angels. I remember thinking how shocked these people of last night would be - the lawyers, the college administrators, the social workers - to be compared to Hell's Angels. I was a pathetic partyer.

I had a couple of glasses of wine and snuck out early without saying goodbye to the host. When I got home, I opened the second bottle of wine I bought for the party and had one more glass as I stared at the bedroom walls. The house was completely quiet. Our children were off pursuing their own lives. Just me and the old dog who was snoring on her blanket.

I didn't start this post to complain about my social life. In fact, last night was nothing to complain about. I went out to a party for the first time in my new role as a widower and I found out how "creaky" I had become. All of my social skills had atrophied over the long period of our quarantine. Last night was a small crack in the shell that I hope to widen as time goes on. I don't want to be a hermit, though I feel safe here in my shell.

What I really wanted to tell you about was that this rift with your sisters may have a solution, or a hope of a solution at any rate.

You see, I had lunch with one of your very best friends last week and I told her of my problem and asked for her counsel. She, like you, is wise in the ways of people and I had hoped that she might help me see this thing from a perspective that might have a little bit of you it it. It was a nice lunch and very helpful for me.

One of the conclusions I arrived at after the lunch was that my desire to meet with only one of your sisters, the one I had the original conflict with, was misguided and would ultimately, only result in further strife and division of the group. If your youngest sister and I were able to resolve our difficulties, where would that leave her vis-a-vis your other sister? No, I decided that we would all have to meet at once.

That left me with the problem of balance. How would I deal with your two sisters, who were definitely upset with me, and your best friend, who was neutral? What would be the play of social dynamics? The answer, I hope, is the addition of an outside, professional facilitator who's role will be to help this fractured group, process their problems and reach resolution in a way that will allow everyone to maintain dignity and be able to go forward and work together for the good of the family.

This idea was put forward as a suggestion to the other three people immediately involved. I am happy to say that all three were supportive and willing to proceed. The problem now is scheduling. Your youngest sister is out of town on business for the next two weeks, so it looks like it will be a while before we can actually come to grips with this. Perhaps that will work to our advantage in that some more of the "heat" may leak out of us with the passing of time.

We shall see, but I will say that I am tired of this. It is a lot of work to go this route alone.

With love,

D.

The Burning Cold - Part 4

My Dearest Love,

I wonder what you make of all this. This is making the huge assumption that you have any cares about the trivialities of our lives. I hope that you are far beyond this now, that we are but ripples in the stream to you, or whispers of a breeze on a summer's day. To me however, this is all too real. And all too foolish.

If you were one of the Greek deities, an immortal who actually meddled in the affairs of humans, you would, by now, have sent a few lightening bolts down to a couple of vexing people, myself included I am ashamed to say.

We have made a sad hash of this. That it happened at all is a testament to our fall. That we have not resolved it reminds me daily of how sadly we have behaved.

I wish that I could say that we have fixed this rift, this tear in the family fabric, but we have not. An olive branch was extended to your youngest sister, a flag of parley waved. She was willing she said, but your other sister wanted to come too.

Well, sorry, but I can only take on one of your sisters at a time. Two on one would be a bad decision on my part. Your blood line produced strong women. Of all, you were the strongest and I fear that without your presence, the remaining drift rudderless on a sea of loss and longing.

So, we wait. For what, I am not sure. On my end, I hope for reason, for cool heads and reflection. What they hope for I do not know.

What I do know is that for all of the need I have to try to resolve this, I am very afraid of "pushing". This is dangerous country and I would rather sit and stew a little rather than make a mis-step that will put me in the quicksand.

I wish I had better things to say to you. This is not the letter I wish to write.

P.

The Burning Cold - Part 3

Part 2 here

My Dearest Love,

As I set out in Parts 1 and 2, I had planned on leaving town to meet someone who has grown to be a significant part of this new life I am starting out on. Your sisters agreed to take over the family for the few days I would be gone, but they were not happy with the reason for my leaving. At the last minute, that trip was canceled and I went to see my parents instead.

Upon returning home, I immediately went head-to-head with both kids, which resulted in hurt feelings and strained relationships. I hoped for a better start on Monday.

One of the things that I did on Sunday before everything fell apart was to call your youngest sister. Every since our meeting with the lawyer the week before, she seemed unhappy and preoccupied. I was not able to reach her on Sunday, but left a voice-mail explaining that I could tell that something was bothering her and I wanted to talk to her about that.

She called back just before noon on Monday. What followed was totally unexpected. When I asked her if there was something troubling her, she said yes, and that it was more than just one thing. She then proceeded to tell me a long list of things I had done, or was doing that she found issue with. I won’t go into details here, but it included lying during the meeting with the attorney, lying to our children about money, whining on the CB website about the lack of money, and fostering a continuing level of anger in our household and refusing to do anything about it.

She also accused me of not appreciating her efforts on our traditional Monday night get-togethers. She said that I refused to help her prepare the meal, that with all of the free time I had during the day I should be able to do more.

Finally, she said that I showed no appreciation for the service she did us when she spent time with our children while I was gone. That I did not provide food for their use and that I had no right to get angry when I came home to find no milk in the refrigerator.

I have to admit that as this went on, my internal temperature started to rise and by the time she got to the milk thing, I was close to boiling. I wish with all my heart that I could have listened to all of this and responded with words of cool compassion, perhaps allowing us to address each other’s feelings in a rational and adult manner. I did not do that, however.

Instead, my inner child, hurt and angry, responded for me by telling her of a point of contention written down on my side of the ledger.

While I was gone, your two sisters went through our closet and picked out some of your clothes to take to NY for your birthday celebration. I was not unhappy that they wished to take some of you along for the party, but I was upset that they rummaged through our things without asking first and I said that to your sister.

By now, we were both so emotionally charged up that further discussion was impossible. I ended the phone call before I said anything more that I might regret.

I can’t recall the last time I felt so distressed. I was walking around the house talking to myself alternately railing at my own stupidity and then at the accusations that I felt to be so unfair. It is not that there were not seeds of truth at the heart of all of them, but the way they were presented to me took the form of embellishment and twisted perspective. As I was mentally defending myself on each count, I suddenly felt all of the muscles in my lower back tighten in a spasm that left me bent over and gasping.

The next several hours represented a new low for me. Not only was the relationship with your younger sister on the rocks, but two hours after our phone exchange, I received an email from your other sister who proceeded to tear me a “new one” in writing. The two sisters apparently went over my list of deficiencies and reached a unanimous verdict with the defendant absent from the proceedings.

That is how things stood as they left for New York, on your birthday, to celebrate your memory. They are still there and I have heard nothing, which is good, I think.

We all need some space in which to cool down, but how this will be patched up, I do not know. But we will need to find a way for the children’s sake. In many ways, I feel married to your two sisters. They are a legal part of our household now through the directives of your will. They have fiduciary roles to play. They will be participating in the decisions that will be made relative to the welfare of the family. And they are totally pissed at me. Not good. Not good at all.

The Burning Cold - Part 2

Part 1 here

My Dearest Love,

As I write these words I feel a deep anxiety, a fear that the events of the past few days, perhaps months, have created a situation that jeopardizes the health and fabric of our family, and while I don’t think that all of the blame for this can be laid directly on my shoulders, I do believe that I share the lion’s portion of it. My actions (and inactions) over the period beginning with your death and culminating in the present time have been ragged, often non-functional, emotionally charged, and not always rational. Looking back, they appear to be those of a person who is shell-shocked and depressed. Not too strange I guess for what I have gone through.

Having said that, I still need to take responsibility for my part in the events leading up to, and including the past few days.

As I drove home after visiting with my parents, I did so in a calm and philosophical state, taken in by the empty, winding road (not the freeway), and the beautiful fall colors. I felt refreshed. Little did I know that would not last.

Upon entering the house, I found our daughter drawing in the kitchen while plugged into her iPod. I think that I expected her to show some enthusiasm at seeing her father, but it was as if I were a ghost, and an inconvenient one at that. She acknowledged my existence, but barely. My feelings were hurt. I took care of the dog, who actually did seem happy to see me, but then, she always did, and started to unpack.

There was a message from your sister saying that she would drop the boy off before dinner, which was fine, so I grabbed a beer and started going through the stack of mail that had come in while I was gone. About half way down was a letter from the high school with a progress report in it. The only grade showing was an “F” in chemistry. I stared at it for a while, trying to understand what I was seeing. I walked it over to the girl and slipped it in front of her on top of the drawing she was working on.

To say the following conversation went badly is an understatement. She kind of blew it off saying that she had missed a lab on one of the days she was excused from school, that the teacher had told her she did not miss anything, and that this just kind of popped up. She said that she would take care of it. I reminded her that she had said the same thing about a math homework grade that turned up as failing a couple of weeks before. She shrugged.

Now, I was irked. I went downstairs to the computer and logged into the school districts parent connect program. Her old math grade remained and F, plus she had a second math homework showing the same grade in addition to the new chemistry failure, three in total. I printed off the results and went back upstairs.

Once again, it felt like pulling teeth to get our daughter’s attention. She looked at the printout, pulled her earplugs out and said something to the effect that this was no big deal and that she would take care of it and that I should trust her. At some point she had raised her drawing pencil up between us and was using the point of it to site down into my eye. That’s when I lost my temper.

I slapped the pencil out of her hand and told her to treat me with respect. I told her this was a big deal, that she was starting to blow off her assignments and that she was grounded until the grades had been corrected or the work made up. Things kind of went downhill from there. We both postured and argued and behaved like juveniles. Only one of us had any justification for that.

Later, as I was stopping around in my foul mood, made fouler because I knew that I had made the situation worse that it had to be, I realized that there was no food in the house. Before going, I had talked to both aunts who would be taking turns with the kids and asked them what they would like me to lay-in in the form of supplies. They both said that I didn’t need to do anything in that regard, so I didn’t.

The result of course was an empty refrigerator and dinner time not too far off. I rummaged through the freezer and found some chicken chili from the week before. There was just enough for the three of us if I made something else. Hot dog buns that had been hanging out in the fridge for too long were turned into passable garlic breads and that was our quickie dinner.

Joe came through the door just before it was time to eat and of course, he was unhappy with the selection. He was also unhappy to return home to a scene that was obviously tense after being spoiled by his aunt and uncle for a couple of days. The discussion at the table quickly descended into hell. It was my fault that it did. I was not acting like a responsible adult and parent. I was reacting to things from some hurt space where I was so tired of trying to make dinners that the kids would like and eat. Whenever I would ask them to help with the meal planning they would both stare at me and say that they didn’t have any ideas or didn’t care, but when I then would pick a recipe or prepare a meal, I would get whining and complaining. I was sick of it. I blew up and wound up going to my room for some quiet time before I said any more things that I would be sorry for later.

Of course, our son immediately got on the phone and the IM lists and complained bitterly to his various counselors about the intolerable situation. Among those he talked to were the Troika planning to leave town on your birthday to fly to New York to celebrate that day with my brother in Manhattan.

Little did I know that this family drama would wash over me in a wave of accusations and recriminations the following day. More in Part 3.

The Burning Cold - Part 1

My Dearest Love,

I am not sure how to relate the following story. It is so painful, so stupid, so unnecessary, so full of potential for disaster, that I am afraid to pick up the thread again. I don't want to revisit the events of yesterday. But, as you will see, I must.

First, I must set the stage and frame the players, for some of what was said and done was driven by emotions that lay deeper than the accusations that were actually made.

You will remember from my last letter that I had found a "pen pal" here on the Internet. We traded comments on each other's blogs over a period of months and in that time we felt that we had gotten to know a little bit about each other through our writings. What we saw there drew our mutual interest. When our trust level was high enough, we began to correspond via email, and finally, by phone.

At that point, our relationship was impossible to hide. Our children soon became curious and asked who this person was that I was talking to so often. Not wanting to lie, I told them. They in turn, told members of their respective support groups, which included your sisters and your best friend, P.

While all of this was going on, I often thought of how this might play out, the ramifications of it - those thoughts often traveled down dark paths. On the one hand, the relationship that had unexpectedly developed was a bright spot in a life that was otherwise very dark. I was struggling to find a new way to live, to parent, to manage our family's needs. I have never known so difficult a time. To have this new person come into my life at that point in time was a beautiful experience. It helped lift me up at a time when I needed that.

I also was aware of how it might appear to those closest to our family. I struggled with this and still do. But that tells you a little about what has gone on over the last month and leads to the next series of events.

In striking up a relationship with someone on line, I was faced with a number of conundrums. First, my children quickly pointed out that I had violated every rule I had given them about on-line etiquette. They were right to the extent that I had let some of my privacy slip in order to take an anonymous encounter to a higher level. My response was that I was an adult, an experienced one at that, and I was proceeding with my eyes open.

Another problem I faced was what to do next about this new relationship. Everything I had learned about this person made me want to go forward, but everything about my present situation bid me to slow down. My role as a parent had to take priority. My responsibilities in the processing of your estate are on-going and time consuming. My support group consisting of various family members would almost surely take this with a high degree of suspicion and resentment.

Plus, it would not be as easy as meeting for a cup of coffee to get to know one another a little better - she lives a thousand miles away. Still, my desire to know if there was something more to this relationship drove me to arrange a meeting.

To do this, to meet this woman, I would have to go away for a few days. This meant that I would need to ask for help from you sisters to look after our children. While they acquiesced, I could tell that they were not happy and I could understand that. Looking back, there are many things I might have done differently, but I was not thinking very clearly I am afraid. Nothing new for me over the past four months, but not something to be proud of either.

I arranged to be gone for three nights and was looking forward to knowing more about who this person was.

Then, it all changed. She fell ill and was ordered by her physician to undergo bed rest and a course of strong anti-inflammatories and under no circumstances was she to fly. While disappointed, I understood. What to do now?

Since your sisters had arranged their schedules to accommodate my absence, and because I had finally sold my father's old car which was going to be picked up the day I had planned to fly out, I decided to drive up to my parent's house and see them over the same three nights that I had originally planned to be gone.

So, last Thursday morning, after the kids had gone out the door to school, I threw my things in the back of the car and hit the road.

The visit was very nice. I got a chance to see my Dad's old car go off down the road on a trailer on its way to its new home. I was able to spend time with my parents and at this point in our lives we never know if it will be the last time we visit with one another. I spent a day in the woods with my brother scaring grouse. I visited with some of our old friends and got in a night of poker. Plus, I slept and did things on my own schedule. It was the first time I had been away from the house and the kids since you left. I needed that. But a price was to be paid...more in Part 2.