Looking Back

The last ten years? Not so much. Since the beginning it seems...30 years. You have been like this since the beginning. Uncommunicative...unable to connect. Do you remember?

We were married less than two months. Apparently you were unhappy. Did you talk to me? Tell you what was on your mind? Try to work it out? No.

You had spent the day snuggled in the bosom of your mother. Comforted by her words and advice. You came home coiled like a snake, waiting to strike at your prey:

"My mom says there is no reason you shouldn't be having sex with me!"

Stricken. Caught off guard. Mortified. Embarrassed. Not understanding what you had done. Could you have possibly discussed the most intimate details of our life with your mother?

You continued to hurl your accusations: according to your mother, my chronic reoccurring yeast infections shouldn't impair my ability or desire to have sex. Oh and another thing...your house was not clean enough! Apparently I didn't dust enough.

Frantic, desperate, embarrassed, hurt, angry. I grabbed the phone to confront the woman I felt helped create this problem. When she answered, the only thing I remember her saying and it is as if I still hear it like it was yesterday:

"My son has lived one hell of a life since he has been married to you."

My resolve to confront left me. I was beaten by you both. A woman who got her medical knowledge from a book published in the 1950's and you, my husband, who nestled into the bosom of his mother instead of his wife when things got tough.

Should I have done the same? Should I have wrapped my arms around the gentle swelling in my middle, grabbed what little I had and retreated to the safety and protection of my mother? I could have I guess.

But we both know what she would have done. She would have wrapped her arms around me, hugged me, kissed me, told me she loved me and kicked my ass back out the door to you. The same thing your mother should have done!

Maybe if she had, we wouldn't be where we are now.