Dating : Grace

I didn’t know what to do but walk. I didn’t know where I was going or what I had done. I was in shock. I just kept walking. It was all I knew to do. I feared all eyes were on me. I imagine it was a strange sight to see someone get out of a car at a traffic light and walk away. I walked in the grass, away from the road. I wanted to disappear. My head was down (if I can’t see them, they can’t see me), my hands in my coat pockets and I was crying. I had on my rain jacket but it was very cool for June and I still felt a little uncomfortably cold. Then I realized I couldn’t let a little discomfort stop me. I can deal with some physical suffering.

I walked and passed one-story brick building after one-story brick building. I had no destination. I only had a sense that my life was over. I had finally let my emotions ruin my life. I didn’t know where my husband was. I suspected he was on his way home. I hadn’t noticed him on the road along which I walked but I had never looked up either. He was very mad at me and I had the feeling he wasn’t going to bother following me. I had broken the final straw with him. I felt utterly alone.

When I did look up, I looked to my right towards the buildings. I noticed a patch of forest behind the buildings and I had my destination. In the forest, I could hide from everybody. In the forest, I could find a spot to sit, hide and wait. In the forest, I could return my body to nature.

“It takes 3 days without water,” I said to myself. In the past, I had always imagined running away with nothing, no money, no food, no credit cards, and only the clothes on my back so the only choice I’d have is to eventually die of hypothermia, starvation, or dehydration. But that had only ever been a fantasy. Yes, fantasy is the correct word.

Now the fantasy had come true and it was scary, but also exciting. I was finally going to die. Then I thought of Taylor and cried more. I realized I would never see her again. I thought shortly of her life without me.

The buildings looked empty but all of the windows were dark so I couldn’t tell if people were inside. I imagined if there were, they were wondering what I was doing. I tried to find the most inconspicuous path to the woods. I found a strip between an exceptionally empty appearing building and tall wire fencing used to separate it from the neighboring building on its left.

As I neared the edge of the woods, I thought of Taylor again. “Mommy loves you but mommy is crazy,” I muttered over and over and cried because I knew she would never know I said this as I walked to my death. She’d never know how much I thought of her at this moment or how much I loved her. I would never be able to tell her in person.

Then I realized I was wearing my necklace with her picture and felt relief. I opened the pendant and looked at her photo. I touched the picture. Thank goodness I had put this on this morning. It was the only thing I would want with me. I imagined them finding my body in the woods, the necklace with my daughter’s picture in it around my neck, and maybe then she would know. Know that her mommy did love her.

With this small comfort, I headed for an area in the overgrowth that was trampled down. Maybe I wasn’t the only one who runs off into the woods. I used the broken and bent weeds to shield me from the mud. Then I felt something stiff underfoot and, looking down, saw wood planks hidden among the tall grass creating a path to protect wanderers like me from stepping into the deep mud. I was grateful for this and wondered if this had been put here years ago specifically for me on this day. In a few yards, the planks stopped, the last one disappearing into the mud like quicksand. I looked up and realized I had come upon a swamp.

At first, I thought it was just a flooded area because of all the rain we’ve been having but, at closer examination, it looked and sounded like a swamp with the sound of frogs, birds overhead, and tall weeds. As I paused, I wondered if I was dreaming. It sure felt like one of my typical dreams and I hoped it was, but I was doubtful.

I had to get around this swamp to go further and I was not far enough away from society yet. I did not want to be found. I managed to find the least muddy path around the right side of the swamp. My pants were soaked past my knees and covered in tiny yellow seeds from the tall, wet weeds upon my entrance. Mosquitoes kept biting my hands and I thought of an ironic situation in which I suddenly decide I want to live but I had been bitten by a mosquito with the West Nile virus.

I did not think of my husband. I did think of Randy and what he had said the night before, “If you kill yourself, I will probably kill myself.” But I kept walking. I remembered he said as he was leaving that I could always call if I needed to talk and never had I ever needed him as I needed him now but his wife was probably in labor right this instant and there was no way I could call him now. Why do I become the neediest at the most inappropriate times?

I continued winding my way deeper into the woods, looking for the path of least resistance, ducking under branches, stepping over short streams, and using tree roots to stay out of the mud. But, all the while, I was never completely lost from society because, through the trees, behind me, on my right, I could still see a brick building and fence.

The first fallen tree I came to was very wet and riddled with termite holes and I decided to find another to sit on and wait. I stood on the slippery log and looked around. Further ahead, to my left, I saw an oddly shaped branch pointing skyward and another fallen tree under it. I decided to head in that direction to see if there was a decently dry spot there to sit. I stepped off the log and took a few steps.

That’s when IT struck me.

Separation anxiety. Taylor is going through her separation anxiety stage right now. She needs her mommy now more than ever. And I remembered the story my husband had told me about 6-year-old Caitlin banging her head on a wall wanting to know why she was the only one in her class who didn’t live with her mommy.

I froze where I stood. I stood in that spot, paralyzed, hunched over, and slightly crouched. And I wailed. I yelled, not caring if anyone heard, hoping someone did. “I LOVE YOU, TAYLOR!” I cried. “She needs her mommy. I can’t leave Taylor. She needs me. I love her so much. I have to do it for Taylor. I don’t know what will become of me and I don’t care. I just have to go back for Taylor. Only for Taylor.” I stood, bent, and I cried and cried and cried.

I did not know what had struck me so suddenly with this thought and emotion. Was it God? Was it my real self? I had no idea but, if I were inclined to look for God in this world, this would be as good as any moment to prove His existence. Eventually, my paralysis wore off and I slowly made my way back out of the woods. It was slower than going into the woods because it felt like a great force was holding me back. It was as if, walking into the woods, I had been walking with the wind, and, walking out of the woods, I was walking against it.

“I’m scared. I’m so scared,” I whined as I found my footing on the tree root I had used earlier and stepped over the muddy stream. “I do not know what the future holds for me. But I will continue on, Taylor, for you.”

Finally, I was out of the woods and back in society but the buildings still stood like silent observers and not a soul was in sight. I was as alone here as in the woods. I needed to call my husband but did not have my cell phone. I thought of just walking all the way home but rethought that ridiculous idea. I decided to head to the BP station where I had gotten out of the car and call from there. I, at least, knew what I would say.

As I headed to the road and had just passed a building’s rear receiving door from which I half expected someone to rush out and yell at me, I saw the Oldsmobile pull into the lot. I was surprised and relieved. I stood and waited. My husband pulled up and leaned over to say, “Hey, can I give you a ride?” as if nothing had happened, but his comment didn’t deter me from what I had to say and, as soon as I stepped into the car, I balled.

“I don’t know what is going to happen to us but I cannot leave Taylor! She needs me! She has separation anxiety! I cannot abandon her! I did not come out of the woods for you. I did not come out of the woods for Randy. I came out for Taylor. I don’t think a judge would ever award me custody but I want to be in her life. I love her so much.”

I calmed and rested my head on my window and sniffled, relaxed now I had gotten that out.

My husband was quiet for a second. Then he said softly, “Do you understand now what it means to really love someone?”

“Yes.”

“Was it a feeling or an uncontrollable motivating force?”

“An uncontrollable motivating force.”

“Congratulations. You now know what love is.”

“I never knew what love was before.”

“I didn’t know what to do. I thought I’d have to call the police. Then, I just asked God, ‘Please, God, help me find her.’ And then, I saw you.”

I straightened up. “There really is a God?!” I exclaimed as both a question and a statement.

“Well, what you experienced I would attribute it to God in you. It was your love for Taylor that brought you back.”

“Did I claim the ring?”

“Yes. You claimed it. You bit off my finger and claimed it,” he said as a joke because I had bitten his arm.

“But who took it from me?”

“God.”

“So, nobody has the willpower but God,” I again said as a statement and question at once. At first, I felt ashamed I didn’t have enough willpower but remembered even Frodo had not had enough willpower and it was not my fault because nobody does. But then again, was it God or the real me?

“We’ll go home, take a nice hot shower, eat and go see Taylor.”

I vigorously shook my head yes. Yes, I wanted to see her and hold her tight. But as time passed and I calmed, I understood my love for her didn’t mean I had to rush to see her right then. I became satisfied just to know I would be seeing her again, that I was still in her life, still here, alive, for her.

I no longer wanted to think of what happened that day. I knew I would have to write about it eventually but not that night. I just wanted to vegetate. I wanted to rest. But I did not want to forget the lesson of the day. This day was a turning point in my life, but it can only remain a turning point if I do not forget its lesson. That is why I have written this, in hopes that I never forget.