And In Between There Are The Doors

I’ll admit that I felt pretty relieved to have shared what I’d needed to share. It was liberating. I may not be able to do a single thing about any of it, but Sandy certainly could. She could take matters into her own hands. Place it in the hands of others. Deal with it as she saw fit. Keep a watchful eye out for signs of trouble. Leverage the info in some personally meaningful way. Raise the black flag and slit some throats. Whatever the game plan, she was calling the plays.


I was happy to simply be on the sidelines.


But that is not where the story ends. No, there is more.


She thanked me. For the information – and for the support I’d provided to the girls for the last few years.


Very nice. I was touched she’d noticed. Or maybe she’d been told. Whatever. It was nice to be appreciated, even in hindsight.


But there was more still.


She thanked me for the peace of mind she’d been able to enjoy knowing I was around the girls, when she’d known with the insight and clarity that only a former spouse can have, that J. was just barely keeping the trailer level on a good day. She appreciated the stability. Said she’d prayed for me.


Even if only for her girls’ sake, there is nothing wrong with a few prayers. Who knows what they might have done for me?


It was a big gesture. And quite unexpected.


And then the topic turned to Abby. How she was sorry we’d lost touch when she flew the cuckoo’s nest. That she felt badly that I was upset with her.


I came clean.


This was quite a Come to Jesus.


I told Sandy that to be truthful, I’d have to say that I had very harshly judged Abby for her actions. But with what I’d come to learn shortly thereafter, and the things I’d come to realize even recently, that I applauded her decision. Admired her bravery. Viewed her decision as being very similar to some of my own. And that I’d had a change of heart months ago.


She suggested I text Abby.


I wouldn’t say as much, but I wasn’t sure. There has been a lot of water over that dam.


What kind of reaction would that get? She’s a self-righteous rising college sophomore – I might get a return text more in the style of my mother. Filled with “Well let me just tell you..."s and sprinkled with a few “And another thing...”s. And finished off with a “Don’t let the door hit ya where the Good Lord split ya” or something similar and equally as catchy.


And then one night, I decided that the door, opened ever so slightly by Sandy, would only remain open so long.


And my soul wouldn’t withstand the weight of one more lost opportunity.