Monday, December 06, 2010

Whispering to Martha

(Part 2 of 3)

Whispering to Martha


On August 23, 1974, you made a promise to me. You promised to take me, to have me and to hold me from that day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love me and to cherish me, until death do us part.

For thirty-six years, you have never broken that promise. Not once. No matter what I did, or what I did not do but should have done.

It was easy to have me and to hold me for the better, but you had me and held me for the worse as well. A lot of worse. Without thought for your own well-being, but for mine. When you came to Family Week at the alcohol treatment center you said, “I thought I was here to help you. If I had known it was to help me, I would not have come.”

And that broke my heart when I realized how badly I had broken your heart. How I had ignored your needs and wants for my own. You were always, always giving your Self away but never, ever taking anything for your Self in return.

But it was those two broken hearts, yours and mine together, that gave me the will and the strength to recover—so that, for the first time, I might give back some of the Self you always gave so freely to me.

I wanted to give you love, and respect, and comfort, I wanted to protect you from your fears—all the things I never knew how to give to anyone, including myself. Most of all, I wanted to restore the trust you gave me with your vow because, without it, anything I ever tried to give would be suspect, hollow, just another empty promise.

Twenty years later, I think I have regained your trust, and I think I have given you some of the things I promised to give: To take, to have, to hold, to love, and to cherish you.

God, how I have cherished you, only to hurt you one last time.

I picture two rocking chairs. There is one for each of us, and they are for reading, and laughing, and remembering, together. They are for our golden years, together, for watching the Creator in the mountains, in the trees, in the animals and the birds, in the clouds and the wind and the rain. They are for sharing our happiness, our contentment, and our affection—just the two of us, together, with both of our hearts and our minds finally at peace. After all the turbulence, finally tranquility.

Except I won’t be there with you, laughing and remembering and loving, together, in our two rocking chairs. I won’t be there with you, sharing a blanket on a chilly ninety-five-degree summer day when you have goose bumps. I won’t be there with you, a bitchy old bag, and a grumpy old fart enjoying every minute of our old age . . . together.

God, how that breaks my heart, thinking of you sitting there all by yourself, alone, with no one to rub your sore back for you, or to see your tears, or to see your smile, or to say, “I love you with all of my soul. I always have, and I always will.”

All because I had to smoke cigarettes until they killed me.

But you will have kept your promise, until death do us part, because you have never broken it. Not once. No matter what I did, or what I did not do but should have done.

And maybe, one night when you are sitting alone in your rocking chair, you will look up in the sky and see a skinny star with glasses and freckles, and you will hear a whisper on the wind,

“I love you, Martha, with all of my soul. I always have, and I always will.”


* * *


More than two years later, I still blubber like a fool at my own writing. I can't stand the thought of leaving Martha alone—and that thought is what makes the waiting so goddamn hard.

20 comments:

Angie said...

One second less than forever is one second too many.

Faysoflife said...

You are so blessed to have such love. Thanks so much for sharing that.

Ponita said...

You'll be in that chair, Charlie.... perhaps not in the form you had originally anticipated, but you will be there, at her side, loving her as you have always done. And she knows that. You are a part of her...

Pat said...

There never is a happy ending Charlie because one is always left alone but whether you are religious or not - and I know you are not- I don't believe you can live so closely to someone for all those years without keeping something of them - maybe 'a skinny star' a 'whisper on the wind', even a persistent robin. It must be so. I'm banking on it.

barbara said...

We are all a little richer and a little better for having spied upon those beautiful thoughts. Such love is rare and precious and will stand forever. Or in your case, sit and rock in that chair.

Syd said...

This one got to me too Charlie. It is beautiful. We have had 34 years together with ups and downs like every one. I hope that we have many more. But one doesn't know. I am sure that Martha loves you so much as well. Two hearts entwined will beat as one.

trina said...

maybe we could visit her?!

Trina

Trevor said...

I've never read your blog before today, but thank you. There is nothing I can say apart from that.

Tesrin Afzal said...

Today was my first introduction to your blog, Charlie... wow... that's really powerful... thanks for sharing this with us... :)

Tiffin said...

You'll be everywhere she is, Charlie. I don't know why it works that way but it does. I blubber like a fool at your writing too.
xo

Eryl said...

This has to be about the saddest and at the same time most joyous thing I've ever read.

Charlie Callahan said...

Your comment, Eryl, really means a lot to me.

unknownmami said...

My whole heart is filled with your words.

TechnoBabe said...

You overcame so much twenty years ago and the time together has been learning together how to understand and give and receive love. Your kind of love was not surface love. Not many couples can say they really get it like you and Martha do. All the little crap is distracting from the deeper and important issue. Making every day count. Hugs to you and Martha from James and me.

Christina Paul said...

Thank you very much for sharing that; although I wish you didn't have too.

Macy said...

Hi Charlie
There's never enough time in the end. For what it's worth it's going to mean so much to Martha having those words to come back to again and again.
I don't have anything like that from Wayne - all I got was forgiveness in the end.

Re life in the stars afterwards, it's funny, but the chorus of Eminem's "Space Bound" (Eminem)??? always has me crying my eyes out "I'm a spacebound rocket ship and you're heart's the moon.. and I'm aiming right at you..."
Every Bloody Time...

stacybuckeye said...

As I sit here with tears in my eyes after reading this, I look down at my son in my arms and hope that he knows such love someday. You've been blessed Charlie. You may not live as many days as some but you've experienced more love than most.

nomi said...

I have just discovered this blog. Thank you for writing and my eyes are pretty wet right now, too.
Wishing you as many good moments as possible ~ Gratitude from Rhode Island ~

Charlie Callahan said...

I apologize for making your eyes wet, nomi, and thanks for your wish.

Technogran - said...

Everyone in the whole wide internet should read this blog post. Poignant and full of remorse, and yes, also love. God bless you Charlie!