So much of my writings in my journal over these past several years have captured the strain, stress, anger, heartache and disbelief tied to how horrible I considered his attitude towards and treatment of me to have been. Others have witnessed and validated his intense resentment. I have routinely snapped after taking far more negative comments than anybody should ever tolerate. At the start of the year, I took a firm stance and refused to allow it to continue, accepting that there would likely be no relationship between us for many years, if not for the rest of my life, because I was kicking him out of the house.
That was a breaking point for both of us. I was done trying. I suspect throughout a couple of days of almost 'intervention'-like conversations with the rest of us (Jennifer, Lauren), he recognized he had to reconsider his options and reasoning.
Things stabilized but remained tense until the day I was running errands and stopped to mail a package at the Dell Ave post office. I saw and talked to Rico. I updated him on the kids and, sadly, Linda's passing away. Driving away, I went by the Campbell perk ponds and recalled the many mornings spent taking Tommy to fish. Fishing was never my thing, but it was certainly his, and I wanted to support him in getting the opportunity to do so. He loved it so much.
While the memories circled, I texted him a simple note. A recollection. He replied, and a short while later, he asked me if I'd like to go to Catalina Island on the upcoming weekend. I hesitated, but I didn't say no; I said to give me time to think. He was going with or without me, but the invitation was an opportunity. I discussed it with Jen metaphorically, including my anxieties about any further conflict in a confined space. But she saw the opportunity and knew it would be a chance to 'reset.' So, I agreed. And I let go from there, to the best of my abilities, on trying to control anything further. I let him call the shots on flights, hotel, everything.
The time together was beautiful. Genuine. Sincere. Healing. And it was a full reset. We needed it and acknowledged it.
I won't use this space to list our activities – it was enough that we spent time together, a few small segments apart doing our own things, and we concluded every night with a meal and a shared bottle of wine at the Bluewater Grill, seated at the same table each night.
I've come to accept that we have different ways of showing and saying things. He's more guarded, perhaps, and I talk too much and repeat myself when doing so. We don't quite have the same approach, but after all we've been through, including years of him being and feeling "left behind," to deal with a situation I never anticipated or could admit until later was as bad for him as it was, well, that's on me. Had I known, had I had the foresight and balls to do so, I'd have taken them with me, but I never saw that as an option, and I also did not see how bad things were for them in my absence. I left wanting something better for them, including what they saw as what a marriage could and should be, yet they were left in an environment of deep despair instead.
This is likely my greatest regret in life. One I'll apologize for through actions and modeling for the rest of my days.
Denise said when I shared all of the improvements we've seen in the home dynamic since that trip together that he is likely feeling "safe" for the first time in many years. That's so simply put, and so spot on, too.
I know he feels safe. And I can tell he feels accepted and loved and has a family dynamic now that he didn't have before, even when his mom and I were together, even with Jen and I at Matson. He sees something healthy and positive in the home we've created here, filled with love, laughter, inclusion, and yes, so much history we both likely struggle to navigate all the complexities therein.
I'll honestly be very sad the day he finally moves out and starts living on his own. Even though it can't come soon enough. ;-).
I"m filled with gratitude that so many things have balanced out. We're doing so much better.
More to come.