You ain't much fun

We should sit down and talk about getting divorced. 

This was the shape of the words on her phone. The text message had plinked, signaling that a new note had arrived from her husband. The white and blue screen brightly screamed: We should sit down and talk about getting divorced. 

Kat had just walked upstairs and set her phone on the bedside table.

Right before this, Kat was downstairs. She was seated on the couch. The couch that was almost as old and worn out and comfortable as she thought her world was.

Kat and Rich talked about buying a slipcover to hide the chocolate milk stains, red pizza sauce spills, and that infamous cup of coffee spill that took out the entire left arm - inside and outside - and the cushion too. It was decided that the slipcover would only hide the memories. They had also agreed that the dog hair and generally sagginess would not be easily hidden beneath a simple slipcover. 

Rich had been seated across the room in his usual chair. 

Admittedly, a small portion of their conversation had been unpleasant, but not unfriendly. Kat blinked a few more times then turned the screen off to set the phone back down. Text read, no response. It didn’t matter, she didn’t think he had his reads on anyway. She sighed.

He must be stressed about our conversation. He has a lot on his mind. Kat wondered if he was that upset with her about making, or in this case, not making a definite decision. But then ask for a divorce?

She replayed the last hours in her head again as she unbuttoned her jeans and slid them off. No, she didn’t think she said anything to annoy him or make him angry. Kat pulled her warm flannel pajama pants on and slid her feet into her slippers. 

Rich had asked her multiple times what she was going to be doing tomorrow. Did he have something lined up? She had to admit to herself that her patience wore down and she had been a little snippy when she answered him for the umpteenth time that she didn’t have any plans or anywhere to be the next day. 

Kat asked why he was being so persistent and he acted like it was the first time he had asked her and it wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to ask her what she was doing on her day off.

Now Kat wondered if there was a lawyer coming over and he wanted to be sure she was home. Or maybe not home? She didn’t know how these things worked. She married, not divorced. That’s just absurd. It must be a joke.

Rich was obviously stressed over the earlier conversation. The whole family was stressed about that conversation. No one wanted to have that conversation. Ever.

Someone needed to make the decision. No one wanted to make the decision. Their dog was twelve years old and she was diagnosed with cancer. The prognosis is bad and the vet asked them to put her down immediately.

Rich was not prepared to say goodbye. Kat understood. It is hard to watch a loved one suffer. Kat stroked the dog’s soft ears and tried not to cry. Not a single person in their home was prepared for the dog to leave. 

Downstairs she heard the television turn on. Rich must have decided to stay awake a little longer. Kat went to the bathroom to brush her teeth. With minty foam and the swishing of the toothbrush Kat could block out the noise from the television. But she couldn’t block the sound echoing in her ears. Divorce?

Kat and Rich had met in college. Neither of them were actually looking for a partner. He was sort of seeing a girl, or two and Kat had recently ended a long relationship. Kat’s boyfriend of eight months had turned out to be not nearly as committed to the relationship as she thought he was. Or that he even admitted. Either way, when Kat and Rich did meet through mutual friends, it felt natural that they start dating. 

Rich brought Kat flowers and cheese crackers. It didn’t matter if it was Valentine’s Day or her birthday or just a day that ended in a Y. He said he loved how her face lit up whenever he showed up with a fistful of flowers and a yellow box of crackers. Kat teased back that her face lit up because he was the one knocking on her door. They had been inseparable. He took her on long drives and to dinner. He always opened doors for her and constantly told her how beautiful she was. 

They had been together ever since. That was over thirty years ago. They had been married for almost just as long. 

The flowers had stopped coming. She found out that she needed to open doors for herself. But marriages evolve and change over time. Kat felt this was a normal course of aging and growing old and older together. 

Now instead of long drives and being taken out to dinner, Kat makes the dinners. They still ordered out (much too often!) so that was kind of in place of being taken out. It wasn't a dimly lit restaurant with a candle on the table. They used paper napkins and there was no table cloth. But again, the path of life wanders and meanders.

This was the journey Kat and Rich were on together. In sickness and in health. To love, honor, and cherish. Until death do us part. 

Kat came out of the bathroom to see her phone blinking with unread messages. Five unread messages. Her fingers trembled as she tried to pick up the phone. It plunked to the carpeted floor. It landed face up and still taunted her with five, no now six, unread messages. 

Tell me why you want to stay together…

There is no emotional bond…

I used to love you…

I think we will both be happier without each other in our daily lives…

You don’t give me sex anymore…

At the dentist office recently, Kat had taken one of the “how well do you know your spouse” quizzes. In the game of marriage, Kat had scored one star. It turned out that she didn’t know much about him. Not anymore. Maybe not in a long time. Even still, Rich’s texts tore her to her core. 

Kat had no idea how to respond or even if to respond. It felt like there was no right answer or would ever be a right answer. He had said all of these things to her before. Kat hoped he was simply in a funk and would feel better in the morning. It was probably the three generously poured rum and cokes and the beer chaser making him feel melancholy. 

Kat pulled back the blankets and turned out the lamp. 

The real trouble began three years ago. That’s when Rich had his accident. That’s when Kat became a full time caregiver. It’s a twenty-four hour, seven day week, 365 days a year role. There aren’t any holidays or lunch breaks.

Bringing home a quadriplegic and turning your home into a hospital requires skills and finesse. It takes an energy and a strength that you never knew you had and then some. 

Kat was also still a full time mom to three children. Kat was also still a full time teacher. She was always juggling multiple chainsaws at the same time. She could have done a lot of damage if any one of those chainsaws ever dropped.

Kat rolled over and punched her pillow. Maybe she would try reading for a little bit.

She read the same paragraph six times before tossing the book to the foot of the bed. Maybe that isn’t the problem. The issues really started when the panic attacks started. Kat had been driving home from somewhere. She could never really remember all the details. Kat was less than a mile from home when the police officer detoured her around an accident. 

She tried to breathe in and back out. She pressed all four buttons to roll down the windows. Everything was turning to black and she could not breathe. She was in her car and driving somewhere. She had to call her daughters to make sure they were okay. The sirens were so loud. There were so many flashing lights and red emergency vehicles. 

She called the first daughter, and then maybe the second. It was blurry. 

She couldn’t breathe. 

The girls sounded okay. 

They were not the ones in the accident. 

They were all okay. 

It was going to be okay as long as she could catch her breath and get home. 

She needed to see Rich and touch Rich and remind herself that everything was okay. But it wasn’t okay. 

She couldn’t find her way back to her house. It was two turns. How did she miss her house? Did someone move her house? 

She finally stopped. 

Just stopped in the middle of the road. 

A kind neighbor found her. The neighbor brought her home and then she and her daughter went back to the car abandoned in the middle of the road. 

She needed air. She needed Rich. She needed to know everything and everyone was okay. 

Rich decided that night to hire some aides to help relieve some of the stress. 

Kat was relieved to hear the news, yet hesitant to have strangers coming into their home. 

It was agreed that the aides would come in for an hour or two in the morning and maybe one hour in the evening. Kat only needed help with the bathing, dressing, shaving, getting him in and out of the bed and into his wheelchair. Kat could certainly handle the rest: catheter, bowel care, the cocktail of medications taken several times a day. The aides would relieve some of the duties.

Rich didn’t see it this way. You don’t do anything for me. You don’t spend any time with me. You never touch me. We don’t have any intimacy, etc…like married people are supposed to.

The bedroom was too warm. Kat threw the blankets back. She wanted to go to him. She was going to march down there and tell him how she really felt. She had one slipper on when she flopped back on the bed and groaned. Kat had no idea what she would say.

It didn’t matter anyway as the night time aide was now there. And she would be there for hours. He liked this one and seemed to always find reasons for her to stay longer and longer. 

Maybe, Kat stewed, maybe the problem is that Rich has too many women in his life. Maybe all these ladies coming in and out of the house have mixed up his brain. How could she have scored a one? 

Hey honey, I’m gonna be gone for a month for an Army school.

Hey honey, I’m leaving for the next two weeks for training.

Hey honey, I won’t be here the next five weekends as I have a couple of conferences and Reserves

Hey honey, I won’t be here for the next year and a half because I am being deployed to Iraq.

Kat let that last thought bubble around in her head for a moment. Maybe that is when our troubles began? 

Even still, does that warrant a score of one? She had stood by him all these years. She took care of him, their children, and their home. Doesn’t this count for anything? 

Kat stared at the happy couple staring out at her from the oak frame. They were so young and in love. 

Now he tells her how she is not enough. And has never been enough. He used to tell her she was incredible. Now he likes to play, “You ain’t much fun since I quit drinkin’” But he changes the lyrics to “You ain’t much fun since you stopped sexin’”. She smiles and shrugs her shoulders when he says these things to her. But inside she cringes. 

Kat thinks back to all the times Rich was angry or upset with her or one of the children. The only cure for him was sex. He didn’t touch her at all ever except when he took sex. He would walk up to her and demand it. “You should give me sex.”

Kat gets up to close her bedroom window. She shivers as she crawls back under the blankets. She can hear Rich and the aide downstairs. Her school girl giggle, his murmur, she giggles again. He laughs. It’s been a long time since she was able to make him laugh. When was the last time? Either way, she likes the sound of his laugh. It reminds her of happier times.

The birds are chirping and the dog wants to be fed. It is suddenly morning and Kat never even turned her light out or heard the aide leave. The morning aide is coming soon, so Kat’s window of opportunity to talk to Rich is quickly closing. She can’t believe she fell asleep!

Kat stands up and slides her slippers on. She taps the phone to check for messages. There they are. Several more. With a heavy sigh, she sits back on the edge of the bed. 

This is my day off, Kat says to herself, and so far it ain’t much fun.