Chapter 39. In darkness

Late October 1999 finds us looking at a laptop computer for me (because I think I want to write this story, feeling the ‘big deal’ of it all in that moment); poor Gregg is somewhat at the mercy of my demands, be they reasonable or not.

Work and family responsibilities (the St. Olaf bookstore move and helping Mom move) are significant, so Gregg helps with routine tasks – such as cleaning the bathrooms. I appreciate those small yet significant displays of love. 

I am fragile and look for any bit of encouragement, even from the moon.

October 26, 1999

As I looked at the intensely bright moon last night, I was reminded of and blessed by a purpose that God has for my life - to be a reflection of Him, His light, as the moon reflects the light of the sun (Diana was goddess of the moon - the name has evolved to mean 'in God's glory' like the moon reflects the 'glory' of the sun). I am to be a moonbeam.

In early November 1999 Carl and Betty visit to watch Rebekah perform in her high school play “Fiddler on the Roof.” Betty brings up the affair, rather indirectly but still courageously, given that the offender is her beloved son.  She thanks me for staying with Gregg, acknowledging that I would have reason to leave. She is rather puzzled when I mention “the second time.” 

I write:

November 13, 1999

She said, “Gregg said something about something more, but I maybe didn’t want to hear it.” So I briefly explained that after the ‘first time’ of him telling me about the affair in Jan ’98, he went back into the relationship after 2½ months and it continued until August 19 this year when he told me the rest. I also mentioned that Gregg and I are doing pretty good, but that it was still quite difficult to get beyond the trust and truth part. When he could lie so directly to me for 4 years, why should I believe him now? She didn’t say much, but her tears let me know that she was grieved, even for me.

My hurt oozes out. 

I ache for me, for Gregg, for the kids.

Carleton College

Sometime in this early fall we tell Seth and Becky what has happened. Ever perceptive, Becky knows something is “off” before learning the details. Seth is away at his first year of college. 

Both of them are angry and hurt. 

Seth wants little to nothing to do with family for quite awhile. 

Becky lays into her dad: “How could you do this? You don’t love us!” 

[Gregg recalls that it took two years before Becky again showed him tender affection, such as sitting on his lap.]

I sense a hint of Seth and Becky’s disrespect for me too, or maybe I just wonder if they wonder why I haven’t left their dad. So I use my words, 

“If you’re wondering why I’m still with your dad, it’s because I want to give every possible chance to making this relationship work, not least for the sake of keeping the family together.”

Of course, Gregg and I argue plenty – we’re both hurting horribly. 

I feel like I’m not given the benefit of the doubt, and like he doesn’t expect that I’ll be able to ever love him well. I feel like he pulls a trump card on me when he says to me, “you’re telling me what to say.”

He feels I am being controlling again when I question him about his desire to purchase a costly camera. He had done research on what to purchase that I wasn’t aware of, and felt hurt by what he perceived as lack of trust from me. 

A simple misunderstanding for other couples becomes, with our recent history, a complex misunderstanding of many layers. I try to assure him that I want him to have the things he wants and that I trust his decisions. But for more costly purchases I’ll still expect that we decide together. If he wants no questions from me, I am willing to let him take over all of the financial tracking. He doesn’t want that. We conclude we’ll just have to keep trying to communicate and not assume we know what the other is thinking.

Communicating well and giving the other person the benefit of the doubt is much easier said than done, especially under our present seemingly dark circumstances.

What to do in the darkness

Go slowly

Consent to it

But don’t wallow in it

Know it as a place of germination

And growth

Remember the light

Take an outstretched hand if you find one

Exercise unused senses

Find the path by walking it

Practice trust

Watch for dawn
-          Marilyn Chandler McEntyre