The Drive Wasn’t What He Expected

Robert was driving home from work in his Subaru that evening. It was 5:35. He pushed the tuner on the radio a couple of times, trying to find a song he liked.

He couldn’t, so he turned the radio off and popped in a favorite cassette. He sang along to “How Great Thou Art” at the top of his voice. It was one of the many moments he’d had during the past year of feeling blessed by God.After his divorce ten years ago, he thought he’d never be happy again. He hoped and dreamed that someday he could find someone to love, someone who loved him and wanted to stand by his side. Then Rosemary had come into his life.His dreams had come true.He had heard people talk about problems with blending families. He hadn’t had any. He loved her three children as much as if they were his own. They loved him. Everything happened like people had told him it would: if you trust God and do the right thing, everything works out for the good.He turned the corner onto the street where he lived, slowly approaching his driveway. It was fall. Most of the leaves were off the trees. It was cold outside but toasty warm in the car.The moment Robert remembers most isn’t the moment after; it’s the moment before.He couldn’t pull into the driveway. It was full of stuff. What was all that stuff anyway? He looked closer. It was his. All his clothing and belongings were thrown into a heap.Robert raced to the door. Pounded. Rosemary opened the door, looking just like she had every day for the past year except for the way she looked at him.“Go away. It’s over. Get out. We’re through. I don’t want to be married to you anymore.”Robert got his own apartment, but all he could say was Why, why, why? Robert’s friends kept telling him there was a reason this happened, but he didn’t know what it was. He kept seeing the scene in his head—whether he was at work or lying in bed at night. Pull up in my driveway thinking everything’s fine. All my stuff piled in a heap. He didn’t drink. He didn’t smoke. He was attentive. He was a good husband and father.“I don’t understand it,” he told his friends. “I can’t figure out what caused that.”Rosemary wouldn’t accept his calls. But his stepson called him at work.“I miss you,” his stepson said. “Why did you leave? Are you ever coming home?”“I hope so,” Robert said.It was when his wife started seeing another man that Robert’s friend Jack told him the two little rules that helped Robert survive. “Don’t do anything stupid,” Jack said. “Don’t do anything to hurt anyone else, and don’t hurt yourself.” “But we were so much in love,” Robert said. “She held me, told me how much I meant to her, said she’d never felt this way before.”“I said it before and I’ll say it again,” Jack said. “Maybe this time it’ll be more than wind whipping past your ears. Rosemary is manic-depressive. This is her issue. It’s not your fault.”Robert went to a therapist. He went to church and he prayed. About the time Robert started to let go, Rosemary finally called him.“You’re right and I’m wrong,” his wife said. “I love you. I’m sorry. I’ll go to therapy. Please come home.”Since the day Robert found his clothes in a pile, he had obsessed and fantasized about hearing those words. He hurried home to his wife, but it didn’t take him long to realize that just coming home wasn’t enough.The driveway scene continued to play in his mind. The pain of separation was ended, but the pain wasn’t gone. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t pretend that what happened never took place.If she did it to me once, she might do it again, he thought every day. Things just aren’t the same. What Robert really wanted was something nobody could give him: he wanted his life back the way it was before that one moment in time.I was driving down a scenic route with a friend one day when my friend asked me to pull to the side of the road so he could take a photograph. The sign said No Stopping. Hmm, I thought. I’ll just keep the car in drive and let him take a quick snapshot. I no sooner thought this than a highway patrolman appeared at my window. I rolled down the window.“What’s the problem, lady?” he asked. “Did you not see the sign, or did you choose to ignore it?”In typical fashion I refused to give a straight answer and talked around his question, explaining that the car wasn’t in park and I was on my way. The truthful answer was: I had chosen to ignore the sign and hoped I wouldn’t get caught.It’s something I’d done before.Back in my codependent days I liked to pretend that if I wished hard enough I could wish reality away. I had seen all the signs in my relationship—at least enough that now I’d run. I wanted the relationship based on my fantasy of who I wanted this man to be, not who he actually was. By God, I wanted it to work. I was convinced it was God’s will.I had waited and prayed, done the right thing. Wasn’t this my reward? My trip to reality started with obsessively, like Robert, asking why. My question was really a substitute for saying how much I hurt.There were some tough days and nights on the way.It’s painful when someone we love has a problem. It hurts when we lose our dreams. But rarely have I seen a person, even the most profoundly spiritual person, get a chunk of happily-ever-after as a reward from God.

Relationships are hard work. Some of them work out; some don’t.

Didn’t you see the sign?Awareness is a choice.From the book: Choices: Taking Control of Your Life and Making It Matter