I am torn by two very interesting and amazing gestures from two of the men in my life, both of which fill me with an emotion I cannot express.
First, my soon-to-be ex showed up at the opening night of the new holiday show at the Ark Theater Company, where I direct and where he writes. Nothing adds tension to a show like a couple who is divorcing writing and directing it. We have been pretty well-behaved although I have come close to banning him from rehearsals once or twice. He likes to correct my directing and tell me how to “fix” things. Fix this, is about all I can say. Anyway, opening night and my head was full of another drama going on. My ex came up to me with a wrapped package, handed it to me and said, “Just a little opening night gift.” I gave everyone little silly edible shotglasses flavored with Christmas flavors. Anyway, I open his package and it is a photo book by Jeff Bridges for “Seabisquit.” Now to understand this, you have to know how rare these books are to find. Mr. Bridges does one of these books for each film he does. They are shot with a panoramic lenses and in black and white. A hardcover was released at Christmas last year, which the ex got me, because I love these books. I stumbled on them when I found the one for “Wild Bill” on a $2 discount table. The ex found another one for “K-Pax.”
I was overwhelmed when I opened the package. This is the part of him that made me marry him in the first place, his ability to surprise me and overwhelm me with thoughtfulness. And it made me want to cry because he had lost that in the last few years. He would still surprise me but there was so much hurt and anger there, at least on my part, that the gesture felt empty, like he was being generous because he didn’t know what else to do. Give me something instead of dealing with me.
I couldn’t say anything to him because all I wanted to say was, where did this part of you go? Where did this thoughtful, generous, gracious person go? Did I push him away? Did you put him away? And why bring him out now? On top of that, he has been sending me little emails about how great a job he thinks I did directing these one acts. That’s something he never did before until it was too late. He still coached them with a few “despite the obstacles” and stuff like that but at least he made the gesture at the beginning instead of way too late. Now what do I do with that? I am way past him. I am still confident that this decision is the right one because I feel it in my soul every time I see him. Yet, this week, it made me ache a little bit that we couldn’t stay the way we were 100 years ago, when we met, before the false arrest and the money problems and the depression and all that crap. I miss that man he was. And I miss who I was with him then.
Then my dearest, most amazing friend reached out through my pain and helped take it away. He moved when I needed someone to. He didn’t tell me what or how or why or anything. He just made a stunning gesture of friendship that moved me to tears. I can never repay him for that. I’ve thought about ways I could – grandma’s fudge every day, take-out, doing his laundry, cleaning his house. There is nothing I can do except to accept his gift and be grateful that he is in my life and that he cares for me.
So after a week of feeling lost and unloved and wounded and bleak, these two very different men showed me in very different ways that how full my life is. I have come to realize that more and more as I work my way out of this depression and start to get my feet back under me again. And I will try not to lose sight of that.
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