"Life is a daring adventure; or nothing at all."
When my dear friend Becca tossed this quote at me yesterday, she was eyeballing a run called "Steeper than Hell" from the chairlift . Leave it to me to madly extrapolate until it covered my whole life. Don't worry: I did not run out and get it tattooed across the small of my back.
I must pause in my navel gazing to tell you that skiing with Becca is fun. She is prone to shaking her ass to the piped-in music in the tunnel, until I am compelled to inch my way forward and jab her butt with my pole. She is also prone to singing show tunes on the slope, while I shout,
"Nothing from Oklahoma! Do you hear me? Not Oklahoma!"
"OH, WHAT A BEAUTIFUL MORNING! OH, WHAT A BEAUTIFUL DAY!"
On the lift, she sang "Carrot Juice is Poison" for me. I sang "The Tabbouleh Song" for her. http://media.gunaxin.com/tabbouleh-song-by-remy/18360 We both sang (well, roared more than sang) "Trogdor the Burninator". http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7gz1DIIxmEE
It was not decorous. Still, we are not the only ones who do stuff like this. One dude blasted by me on twin-tips, shouting, "My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die!"
I am still sad. In fact I am sadder than ever. But I am not OK with sad-sack behavior. So I permitted sadness while actually skiing, and in the ladies' room. Whilst driving back and forth, hucking gear, clipping in, eating lunch and riding the lifts, I sang "Trogdor" and kept my game face on.
After skiing, Simon asked me if I would like to take my goggle-eyed self out for a beer with him. Yes, indeed! We got settled with a couple of Cutthroats and he asked me what I thought of the two of us splitting up. Well, that was a long-ish conversation. Good thing they were large Cutthroats. Simon and I have been married eighteen years. We have a well-oiled, highly functional partnership. We scarcely ever fight. Last incident with raised voices? October, 2009. Years ago, in the turbulence of early marriage I used to stand in the shower after a fight, twisting my ring around my finger, thinking, "FUCK THIS! I can't stand this! That goddamn SOB... I'm leaving!" Etc...etc... No long-time married person will be shocked by this.
Marriage is hard work, and I have given an enormous amount of love and effort to ours. Simon has, too. Probably more, in fact, because he has to be married to me! But we're changing. I find him inflexible. He finds me rebellious. He's a curmudgeon. I'm a loose cannon. And we paper over it and cruise along until we realize that our marital shoelaces have come completely untied. Oh, whoops.
"Kate, if you had remembered to do those laces in double knots like I asked you to, we wouldn't be in this situation."
"I did them in double knots - eighteen years ago. Sooner or later, Babe, stuff comes undone."
I hate to give the cancer thing too much importance in my life, now that it's almost over. But it has certainly made me a lot less interested in tolerating situations I tolerated before. Go through one big change, start looking at other changes with less fear. Cancer is dangerous: look out! That which does not kill you could change your view of the world. Make you stupid. Make you brave. Make you selfish. Make you clear-eyed. Make you greedy. Make you want a better self for yourself.
So, we sat there, calm as you please, talking it over like it was the grocery list. He was offering up trial separation like he might suggest a movie. That's how I know it's a real issue this time. More discussion to come, I'm sure. And I thought, "Helen Keller was probably just referring to an overseas trip or a new hairdo or something..."
4 comments:
Yeah, just wait 'til he starts crunching the numbers for what it'll cost him. He'll come crawlin' back to you in no time.
I know exactly what you mean.
John K.
@ John: Truth is, I'm the one who wants it, more than he does. I was surprised he brought it up.
I'm in a similar place, but with less courage than you, so I'll be following closely to see how this turns out. It's just so hard to take a leap into the unknown...
@Amy: And with kids. You and me both, Dear.
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