Once again I find myself unable to sleep. I've had many thoughts bouncing around in my head for weeks and I suppose that I won't rest until I finally express some of them. It's 1:45am and I'm sure that I will be editing this blog later, as I fear I may not be as coherent as I believe myself to be at this late hour.
For many weeks, I have been preparing for an eventual move to Arizona so that I may be close to my parents. I will miss my Texas friends, but I will be near my two closest friends. I miss my parents terribly every time I have to leave after a visit and I look forward to spending a lot more time with them. Preparation for the move has involved separating items in the house into three categories: keep, donate, or throw away. It's been an emotional process and it has left me fairly drained as I reach a critical juncture.
My next task is to get quotes for work that needs to be done in order to sell the house. Once contractors are selected and work schedules set, it will be time for me to leave the house. I will move into an apartment nearby so I can supervise the repair work and so the cats and I will be out of the way of the workers. Even though the house will still be mine until it's sold, for all intents and purposes, I will soon be leaving the house that Melinda and I were supposed to grow old in. It's proving to be more difficult than I expected, even though I have many good reasons to leave.
I realize that what I'm about to write will sound very negative, but emotionally this is where I am. This house is full of memories, both good and bad, however the less favorable ones are what I tend to hold onto. For that reason alone, it will be far healthier for me to leave than continue to live in this house. I also believe that the more I focus on these (for now), the easier it will be for me to let go. Our house used to be a ship that carried us through life. With Melinda gone, the ship is damaged and and taking on water, and for two years I have held tightly onto the anchor, oblivious to how it might be affecting me.
So what negative memories do I have of this place? Let's start with the master bedroom. More than 15 years ago, we hired a friend of Melinda's brother to remodel the master bedroom and bathroom. Naive and compassionate, I listened to his sob story halfway through the job, felt sorry for him, and paid him the rest of the money. He repaid us by skipping town and the work he did do was shoddy at best. Melinda and I had a lot of tension over that and if you've read some of my other blogs, you'll know that we tended to bury problems instead of confronting them. So, the master bedroom became a storage room because we couldn't agree on how to proceed. It was a storage room for far longer than we actually got to use it as a bedroom.
The second bedroom, where Melinda and I slept for many years is now the place where Melinda died. I lay my head down a mere two feet from where she left me. It's a different bed, but that doesn't really change how I feel when it's time to call it a night. I used to think it was a comfort, but that's changed and I don't know why. It's also the room Melinda would run to when things got heated between us. It was so difficult for me, managing her expectations of what we could afford in terms of the kitchen renovation and the large debt we had accumulated. Unfortunately it was enough for me to lose my temper at times. Once, she went to the bedroom and locked the door. I was so angry and I wanted the fight to have a resolution, unlike so many of our other arguments. So I told her we weren't done talking and when she wouldn't let me in, I kicked in the door, splintering the door frame and leaving an odd lever handle shaped hole in the drywall where the handle struck it.
The third bedroom, my office actually, is where I first saw a picture of my son. I didn't know I had a son until Melinda encouraged me to do some research. You see, when we were dating I slept with a friend of hers who then became pregnant. I was told that I was the father, but a simple blood test showed it wasn't possible. Melinda always suspected it was mine for whatever reason, and when she brought it up again one night, I decided to prove her wrong. Little did I know that the picture of the 28 year old man looking back at me would look so much like me. We met a few times and had our DNA tested to verify that he was in fact my son. I even got to see my grandchildren once. You would think that's a happy memory, but my son lived his whole life without a father and decided not to change what works for him. I now know that I have a son that I will most likely never see again, and a part of me wishes I had never known.
The kitchen is just a reminder that Melinda and I did not work well together. It was one stressful decision after another, with most of the grunt work left to me. In the moment, I believed I was happy to do it, but in retrospect I was very resentful of how much she expected from me. When we encountered problems, I was expected to deal with it, but it really needed to be done her way or she was unhappy. For example, when some of the the cabinets we ordered arrived with damage, I was not allowed to deal with them my way. I was much more patient than her and understood that some processes take time. Melinda would frequently ask if I heard back from a vendor or contractor and "encourage" me to send additional queries, however she refused to deal with the problem herself. Serving as the middleman was stressful and was just another wedge that drove us apart.
The living room holds perhaps one of my saddest memories. Early in our marriage I was unfaithful. I cannot defend my actions, but I realize it was due to a lack of self esteem on my part and not something that was missing from our relationship at the time. Those early mistakes haunted me the rest of our marriage. Melinda appeared to forgive, but she never forgot, and even 15 or so years later I would occasionally be reminded by offhand remarks like "Are you going to see your girlfriend?" when I would head out to see my friends. I didn't know how to get her to trust me again, regardless of how much time had passed. Over the years I had matured and I wanted to be the best version of me possible, especially for her. I fell in love with a song on the radio called The Reason by Hoobastank. It spoke to how I felt at my core and I wanted to share that with her. So I sat her down in the living room and asked her to listen to the song, letting her know that the words were important to me. When the song was over, she made some casual remark like "That's nice." That was the moment I realized that I had lost her and that our marriage was never going to be repaired.
I have so many other bad memories of this place. I have good ones too, but they are far outweighed by the negative ones, and it's becoming clear to me that it shouldn't be as hard to leave as it has been. I have to stop staring at the rear view mirror because it's making it difficult to focus on the road ahead. Once I've left behind these constant reminders, my hope is that it will be easier to focus on the good times Melinda and I had. Despite everything that happened between us, we did love each other deeply, and she had so many great qualities that I cherish. One of the ideas I have for a blog is to list the ways in which my life was made better by having her in it. Perhaps next time will be the one. For those interested, the lyrics to The Reason are below. Look it up on YouTube as it's a wonderful song.
The Reason - Hoobastank
I'm not a perfect person
There's many thing I wish I didn't do
But I continue learning
I never meant to do those things to you
And so I have to say before I go
That I just want you to know
I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
And the reason is you
I'm sorry that I hurt you
It's something I must live with everyday
And all the pain I put you through
I wish I could take it all away
And be the one who catches all your tears
That's why I need you to hear
I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
And the reason is you
And the reason is you
And the reason is you
And the reason is you
I'm not a perfect person
I never meant to do those things to you
And so I have to say before I go
That I just want you to know
I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
And the reason is you
I've found a reason to show
A side of me you didn't know
A reason for all that I do
And the reason is you
