Saturday

So I have an icky virus courtesy of my beautiful daughter. Thanks doll.. So I'm up late making sure the boy gets off to work on time. Why? I'm doing it again, placing myself in a position to be blamed for someone else's irresponsibility. He came in late, just before 1 and had to be awake between 3 & 3:30 a.m. Oh yeah...! He stormed out slamming doors. In his wake. Nabal sleeping in the living room so he can look at TV all night as he wakes. Too late for going to say anything.

So I'm sitting here in quiet. Now I can sleep and be warm. A scene came to me. :

A wealthy woman in the community chartered a bus for my daughter's entire class and the grade below. The woman did this for every elementary school here an it was our turn. It was a trip to a major city to participate in an educational event. I grew up in that city and saw an opportunity to stay and see some sites we hadn't seen in a few years. I realize Nabal always worked so couldn't go anywhere and discouraged me going anywhere.

The bus was returning hours early so I arranged to get my girl and we three would see some sights we hadn't seen. It was very early fall and probably the last very good weather. We found a very exciting monument and the children were having a wonderful time. My phone rang and it was Nabal. I answere with I know a lightness of seeing the kids so happy. He started right in. Not yelling but saying he was sure I was already on the road back. I said off handedly no it was still light and  told him how much fun we were having and how where we were related to my mom. I do not remember exactly what he said, but I do remember suddenly feeling as if he were trying to tell me I was doing something stupid. Now I'm a darn good driver in general and have no night problems. The next day was a weekend, so no school. I remember wondering where all that was coming from. As I was trying to explain he hung up on me. I'd stopped the kids because I was devoting so much attention to figurinbnabal out that I didn't want to lose track of where the children were in the crowd. They saw my face.

What's the matter mommy? Probably shouldn't have said a thing, but I told them that their father wanted us to leave now. Their little faces were sad and we'd only seen half the monument. That and it would take half an hour just to walk back to the car. We continued on and it was dark by the time we left. Not a peep from Nabal. He may have called when I was near home. Honestly I do not remember. What I do remember is when we got home I was expecting the same mood and there was none.

I remembered feeling sad that Nabal didn't like anyone having fun without him. Back in the day all he wanted to do was cookout at a park or go play ball for a hot minute. He didn't like the kids on playground sets because he had to watch or help them. He didn't like museums. He just wanted to hang out with his friends, which was no place for a little boy. Looking back I think he resented us for liking museums and music other that mariachis. Funny, when we were in Mexico with his brother who likes to do things and go places he acted like he was into it all.  My reasoning for thinking resentment is that when our boy was in 5th or 6th grade he showed up to a recital drunk. He was always way to busy to go to anymore. Finally in high school he came drunk off his butt, made fun of people, then excused himself to go to the restroom and never returned, said he had to lock up his church. Shortly after that my boy began resenting me for going, and finally stopped playing an instrument he had talent in. Why? Because he wasn't perfect... 

Some days I truly wonder how I was so blind. Always tryin to figure what had caused a mood or miscommunication. There was no reason! All a sick gave that gullible old me fell for. It shames me. I remember asking my mom for help in something I felt to my core was wrong. My mom told me I needed to listen to my husband and help out. I was pregnant and just had major surgery. She said in an incredulous voice that it wouldn't hurt me to cook and vacuum some. I was under doctors orders and had a gaping wound. I knew I'd been abandoned. That's when I really started to think maybe I really was thinking wrong. Any time I was hurt I was not really allowed to 'be' hurt. I had to suck it up real quick an bury it. So I did...for 18 years.