My wife and I are moving from the 119-degree, frying-pan of the AZ desert to the warm, 72-degree sunshine of coastal, Southern California. We are relocating into a home ½ the size of the one we now occupy so we’ve been doing the hard work of the "downsizing" of 53 years of collections. Ugg
We have had over 5 decades of time together to develop into a smooth working team, making this type of transition not as overwhelming or as stressful as it can be. Plus, I rather enjoy the adventure, but then again, it is said, "Asterisk, you’re a sick puppy".
I had "a moment" when recognizing that my wife and I were having a vastly different reaction to the same stimuli. Though we have shared a lifetime together, surprisingly, this situation has never come up before. What should have been a rather mundane sorting through a ½ century of family photos, some to keep, most to discard.
My wife was mostly tasked with this airconditioned effort while I was working in the broiling oven called a garage. My job was separating what tools I was keeping from the ones I was putting up for sale. Temperature aside, I admit, I got the less painful part of this division of labor.
When I came into the house, heading for the refrigerator to gulp down some cool water, my wife was sitting on the floor, with a 3ft circumference of photos encircling her. With a smile, she called me over and handed me a photo of the two of us that was taken on our 16th anniversary. She said: "what a handsome couple we made."
She was pleased to be reviewing the picture, for it brought back good memories for her. However, I had to fight a powerful, heart-pounding desire that wanted to demand that she throw the fading picture into the waste basket. 16 years is something to look back upon with sweetness, but for me, it represents a point in time that will always be, at best, bittersweet. A time when we were vacationing to celebrate what I thought was our love, affection and commitment, I now will always know, she had her affair partner taking up space in her mind where only I belonged. I just couldn’t help but see the loss whereas an outsider (Which at that time, I was unknowingly, the outsider), looking at the photo would see photoshopped perfection.
The glossy reflection of a past that never should have been, stung me like a blindside stap from a anger wasp.
However, none of the above is the point of this post. It is just painting a landscape. I am really attempting to share that there was good news that came out of this moment in time. 1st, I only sunk a little and kept my knee-jerk reaction to demand she discard the glossy paper-memory. I recognized I was allowing myself to sink and immediately took control and stopped my mood shift. 2nd, instead of heading back to the garage to sulk, I had a heartfelt, honest talk with my wife as to what that picture represented to me. Though it was a soft, gentle conversation it was still a hard one to have. I have no desire to cause injury to my wife. We are long past those days. A few tears betrayed our emotions, but by the end, we came together to affirm who we are today.
True, there is no escaping or denying that that picture represented a photoshopped image of an imperfect couple. However, the same photo gave us the opportunity to come together as two flawed individuals, acknowledge mutual pain and failure, then embrace each other for a moment of mutual empathy, shared compassion, and a gratitude for our triumphant reconciliation from a once photoshopped marriage.
Asterisk
P.S. the photo was placed in its rightful place, the "save" pile.
