*DISCLAIMER- This piece was one of my first posts in the blogging world- it was written in April 2010. I'm amazed at how much it still applies. I hope you enjoy it.*
He taught me that if you put the sugar and cream into the cup first, that you don’t have to stir the coffee. I watched him do so a hundred times. Cream, sugar, and then coffee. No stirring. Taste: Perfect.
He was there when my grandmother died, watching over us children while my father and mother ran to the hospital to be with my grandfather. He was there when we woke that morning,shielding us from the coming days of misery. He was there so many other times as well; healing skinned knees, making jokes that would have been inappropriate if anyone else told them. He was there with instructions; his favorite psalm was about an excellent wife, and he read it over and over. His memory floats all over my childhood- a secondary father of sorts.
He left his own family last week- the last of the children old enough to understand that their parents could not make it work anymore. He tried so hard to wait for them to grow up, but it didn’t come together. With overwhelming sadness, I can only imagine, he walked away for a final time. He is a good father- of that I have no doubt. But he does not love his wife anymore.
This year alone I have watched relationship after relationship after relationship fall to pieces. I have watched good people do things that they greatly regret. I have watched some people surface into their true colors. But mostly, I’ve just watched a lot of hearts break, as people realize that they jumped into situations that they shouldn’t have been part of far too early.
I have been part of the romance world. I jumped in, I swam around, and I went under. And all too soon, it was over. And while I am still dealing with the repercussions of a love lost, and of a friend who knew too many secrets, I have the assurance that I have not made any drastic mistakes. I did the right thing. And I can move on with that knowledge.
There isn’t always a villain in relationships. Mostly there are just two people, realizing that they aren’t as compatible as they thought. They find one another, they keep each other warm for a time, and then they go their separate ways. I think the key is that promising someone forever has to be a partnership, not just a romance. But I suppose that is a thought for a different time.
He taught me how to make the perfect cup of coffee. He taught me a lot of things. And in a way, he taught me some serious lessons about what to do, and what not to do in a marriage.
But I mourn for the loss of the life he once knew, and for the tarnished future he will wake to from now on. And I can’t help but thinking about how disastrous it is to jump too suddenly, and how grateful I am to have the chance to know what could have been before I had to suffer through it.