you folks know how i often write funny stuff. well. this isn't funny.
this isn't funny - far from it - but it also isn't something that i want you to get enraged about (and you might). it isn't something i want you to rush to judgment about. it's something i want you to read with an open heart - notice i didn't say mind - and try to understand. if you don't think you can do that, then maybe you should leave this particular post now - while we're both ahead.
my husband, per, left me because........he didn't want to be a grandfather.
yes, he knew it might happen. he figured it would happen. and he wanted it to happen. that is, until it did.
well, not exactly until it did. when it did, initially, he was happy. he loved those two little munchkins. loved feeding them swedish black licorice - at 6 months!
then, when eli lost his job the very same day that he and abby were scheduled to close on their new house, per said to me, before i even had the chance to say it to him, "let's ask them to move in with us. until they get their feet back on the ground. it's the right thing to do."
and so, they did. eli and abby and baby charlie and baby olivia moved in with us for three months. three short months, i thought. but they were longer for per. except i didn't know it.
i didn't know it because he didn't tell me. he didn't tell me that he didn't enjoy having these kids in his house. he didn't tell me because he figured his original feelings would return once they were out of the house and not so immediately under foot. he didn't tell me because he was too ashamed of himself to tell me.
he didn't know what to do. except wait. wait for them to move out, into their own place, and then he and i would have our regular (and wonderful) life back and he would again have fun with the twins, bouncing them on his knee. and sending them back to their parents when their diapers got too full.
and so, he waited. it was only three months, but i guess it felt like 300 to him. only i didn't know. i didn't know because he didn't tell me.
he didn't think he needed to tell me. he was sure this was temporary.
and then........it wasn't.
abby and eli and charlie and olivia moved out.
and per's feelings didn't change.
he loathed being a grandfather. it wasn't what he wanted. he thought he was a monster for not loving kids like everybody else seems to love kids.
like i seemed to love kids. these kids.
he didn't know what to do.
and so........one day........sort of flippantly and off the cuff, he told me that he wasn't sure he liked being a grandfather. i remember it well. i was dusting furniture at the time and he was sorting through the mail. i remember saying to him, "well, that makes sense. i can understand that. you're young! (per is 12 years younger than i am.) you're young and at the prime of your career. and these aren't even your grandchildren - they're your step-grandchildren and, well, i can see that." and he said, "yeah. i guess." and i said, "besides.....if you don't want to be a grandfather, you don't really have to be. show up for the holidays, an occasional sunday dinner, their birthdays, take them for 'pony' rides on your back (which he used to do), and that's that. you don't have to be heavily involved in their lives. i can do that part (i was retired at that point in our lives - that changed, too, but that's another story - and so i was spending a lot of time with the twins)."
and he said, "yeah. i guess. it just bothers me, though, you know?"
and i said, "yeah. i know."
except apparently, i didn't.
it bothered him so much - and i misread how much - and he didn't know what to do.
so........he did nothing. he did nothing but continue to wait it out. surely, he thought, these awful feelings will go away.
but, they didn't. they grew. they got worse. he withdrew. he was ashamed. the more he withdrew, the more ashamed he got. the more ashamed he got, the more he withdrew. he didn't know what to do. luckily, he thought, his work began demanding more and more travel - almost all of it internationally. surely, he thought, getting some distance between me and my horrible, petty feelings will help. i just need some distance. some space. some breathing room. that's what i need.
except, it wasn't. it got worse.
it got very worse.
when he would return from each trip, he was less and less like the per i knew. sullen. withdrawn. distant. no fun.
i asked him what was wrong. (i had, frankly, forgotten about the grandfather thing. i hadn't realized what a big deal that was for him. i thought we had moved on from that.)
he said he didn't know. that he just needed some time to himself to sort things out. i said, is it me??? is it us??? and he said, no. it's not you. it's not us. it's me. i'm just.....i'm just....i don't know. leave me alone. give me some room. give me some space.
i did. i gave him "some space." (yes, read sarcasm.)
the traveling became more frequent.
the phone calls home while traveling became less frequent. and then.......non-existent.
i begged him to do something! do something, per! our lives are slipping away! do something! let's go to a counselor, per! let's go!
no, he said, not we. me. this isn't about us, nancy. it isn't about you. it's me. there is something terribly wrong with me and i don't know what it is. (by that time, he didn't know what it was. not anymore, at least. by that time, he was sure that it wasn't as "simple" as not wanting to be a grandfather. but what? what was it? he loved being married to me. he loved our life. what the hell was wrong with him????)
now, sidebar here, per isn't one to go to counselors. like many people, perhaps especially men, he prided himself - still does - on his ability to cope on his own. and so, he dragged his feet about going. which is to say.......
after several months, he finally went to 2 sessions. and then......conveniently for a man who didn't want to need a therapist anyway......his travel schedule intensified. problem "solved." bye bye, therapy.
and, as it would turn out, bye bye, marriage.
the traveling became constant. the withdrawal became worse. the times we did spend together were miserable. he'd just sit there and not talk and i'd just sit there and try to get him to talk. and he'd just get mad.
and he wasn't willing to do anything about it.
and so, on january 11, 2013, we were divorced. he wasn't even there. he hadn't been there for any of the proceedings. he was overseas. i didn't even know where for sure.
we were divorced - without him there - and i didn't even know why. you try living like that. it was hell. i remember being jealous of couples who split up because one of them cheated - at least the jilted party knew what happened.
i even envied couples where one of them died.
at least they knew what happened.
i didn't know what happened. all i knew was that i had lost the love of my life and he was never coming back. i had to get on with my life.
and so, i did.
and, eventually, i grew to accept the fact that i would likely never know - not in this lifetime, at least - what happened. that's a hard, hard thing to grow to accept, but i did it.
and then.......4 years after abby and eli and the kids moved out.........i get a phone call from per. ready to tell me what happened.
and the story unfolded.
he didn't want to be a grandfather.
he didn't want to be a grandfather and he didn't want to tell me that he didn't want to be a grandfather to my grandchildren. my beloved grandchildren.
he didn't know what to do. he thought the feelings would go away but they didn't. they just grew and got worse and overcame him and......he blew it.
he blew it.
he handled the whole thing in the worst possible way. by not handling it. by running.
he blew our marriage. he blew our lives.
he blew the character test. big time.
he was a little, little boy. not a man.
he blew it.
but.
he blew it for the "right" reasons - he didn't want to hurt me (although, of course, he did). he didn't want to hurt abby and eli. he didn't want to hurt those precious children.
and......
he didn't want to make me choose.
he didn't want to make me choose between him and them. and so, he chose for me.
and that's what he told me when he called me and finally told me.
and i believe him. as you are reading this, you might not believe him. you might think there's more to this story than he's telling me but i know him.
and he's telling the truth.
and the truth is, he's an awful, awful, selfish, selfish man. who, ironically, actually did us all a great big favor.
and so, he and i sat on the phone and we both cried. because what else was there to do?
it's a tragic, tragic tale. and i hate him.
and i love him.
