Call Me Martyr

Call Me Martyr

My second wife is the love of my life. I almost died six weeks after she told me she wanted a divorce... really! Well, it was from a ruptured gall bladder, but that is pretty close to a broken heart. And my Mom died 10 weeks after that, the day my second wife closed our joint bank accounts and took all the money! All right, it was about five hundred bucks, but still... So you must understand that those four months pushed me past what I could handle emotionally. It has been nearly eight years since the day my Mom died and I haven't gotten over any of it.

My cell phone rarely works at work in downtown Chicago. Today was no exception. As I leave my building and hit the street after work, I sometimes check for messages. My family never calls me, (They all hate me. Well, that is probably too strong. Let's just say, they don't give a rat's ass about me.) so if I do have a message it is from my one friend (I still can't believe he actually likes me!), my daughter (I still can't believe she actually loves me!), or, more often than any other, a bill collector. (I CAN believe they really want to talk to me!) Anyway, the only message was from my daughter. From the bit of stress in her voice, I could tell it was something unpleasant.

I called her back as I walked down the street. She said, "Hello?" Concerned, I asked, "Hi honey, what's up?" She explained the situation. "Mom went to the hospital last night with chest pains. She's still there but she's fine..." My daughter went on to explain that they had given her some medicine and were going to do more tests. She might have to stay in the hospital for some more days. The conversation ended when I reached the entrance to the subway and signed off.

I wanted to get a cab and go straight to the hospital. That would have cost me my grocery money for a week or two, but I wouldn't care. You've got to understand that this woman, a woman who has given me the greatest pleasure and the greatest pain in my life means more to me than my own life. I would, without hesitation, give my life if it meant she would live. I would suffer torture and pain for as long as it took to save her. I would go anywhere she asked me. I would stretch my endurance to the point of total physical failure to help her open a jar of pickles! What do you think I would do in this case? Okay, I'll answer; ANYTHING! Needless to say, as I sat on the train, helpless, with tears running down my cheeks, I was trying to figure out what I would actually do.

My confusion was born from a very simple problem. I am her EX-husband and she has a new one. Her new husband would be there. Could I just go to see her? SHOULD I go to see her? If I go, should I be sneaky about it? I want to see her and hold her and tell her everything will be fine. I would hope she would take comfort in that. Would she? And then I had my epiphany on the subject. I wanted to go, so I would go! It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks. This woman means too much to me to just let it go! My Mom went into the hospital for surgery and died. I could have acted like others in my family and belittled the event but I didn't. I made a point of telling my Mom just how much I loved her and I would be there for her. My ex-wife was going to know the same.

By the time I had transferred from the first train to the second one and then from the second train to my bus, my last leg home, I had formulated a plan. As soon as I got home, I was going to figure out what hospital she was in and go there immediately, damn the cost. I don't own a car and the hospital is at least 15 miles away so a cab would be about $50. So what? I thought about buying flowers. Should I get cut flowers or a plant? I thought about making a get well card. (I enjoy making my own greeting cards on the computer.) I spent much of my time thinking about what it would say. I wanted the card to say how much I love her but I wanted it to be somewhat indirect and clever. And I thought about what I would say to her in person. The right thing to say was probably, "You're gonna be fine!" But what I wanted to say was, "If you die before I do you will destroy my impossible dream of getting you back and having you love me again! That impossible dream is all that keeps me alive!" (I also live to find out what happens on the new Battlestar Galactica coming in October, but I could probably die without knowing and not be too upset.)

So it was all settled. I would be home in twenty minutes and then I would spring into action. Then my phone started vibrating in my pocket. Normally, I would not answer it. I hate people who talk a lot on the phone while surrounded by others who are annoyed by it, so I don't. Today I found an exception, literally, life and death. It was my daughter. My ex-wife was fine and was going to be released in an hour or so. I thanked her for the call, said, "I love you," took a deep breath, and was thankful that I wasn't going to have to make a fool of myself... again. So here I sit waiting for the day we get back together, a day that will never come. I am a martyr to myself and a fool to everyone else.

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