It's possible that some of the reality that I saw today is warping my Black Hole Sun smile. I'm happy. My life is fabulous. However, in looking at Ex #1 (affectionately known as Cavey), something is seemingly very very wrong in his life.
Yep, we all have opinions. And mine could be off. It might have been a longstanding goal for him to have swollen fingers that shake when he tries to pour himself a drink out in public. In fact, he may be just emulating something he saw in a movie eons ago when the cool guy pops open a beer in the morning. Hell, it's always noon Somewhere so its all good!
What I am looking into the eyes of is what is rapidly becoming a broken man. Don't confuse my compassion for pity. It was at one time. Then we divorced. I knew when the party ended and my ex Cave never wanted to cross the finish line.
Its possible that I wouldn't be so adamant about his health had we not introduced Humanling to this world. Or perhaps I'd care anyway since I still have the need to move bugs out of the sink before turning the water on. I've even pulled them from the toliet at times. How could I not care about a person if I can't pee on a beetle? Especially one that my Humanling adores (the person, not so much the beetle in this instance).
The man can do no wrong in her world. She loves like a puppy. Nevermind that he doesn't drive so that if I or his parents don't pick him up to see her, it doesn't happen. No matter how stinky and stiff the socks, no matter how rank the alcohol & cigarette breath, no matter that there are times he doesn't see her for stretches at a time even though he could probably light a bottle rocket from his house and I'd hear it at mine....just nothing would debunk him from his Hero Throne for her.
But as she gets older she is starting to see some of the not so good for a child to know or see issues that had been hidden or overlooked in the past.
We have a joke when a beer truck drives by. We pretend we see her dad running after it, like an ice cream truck, yelling for it to stop. Is that mean? It'd be mean if we didn't tell him about the joke so I don't feel completely horrible about it. One thing we do have between us is the ability to be honest if we feel the need to do so. I say this because he'd rather paint pictures for me that are of someone else weaning off the juice. I tell him the truth about everything except dating issues. He still is incredibly awkward and acts like Scrappy Doo if he gets wind of anything (Let me at 'im! Let me at 'im!). Sometimes he gets wind from another hemisphere altogether and I hear about my dates that I didn't even know about, from him. I think he's finally showing evidence of the slow destruction of his body and his brain.
I look into his eyes and I see someone in pain. Physical pain from the pains in his back, his sides, his gut. I see him panic as he struggles to breathe. I see his reddened face and fingers that would have outgrown his wedding band if we'd stayed married. I had him help me move some simple things to the new wonderful apartment and thought I would treat him to lunch. He could barely eat through half a slice of pizza. His lungs hurt. His nose is bleeding. And he has an eighteen year old girl calling him for things constantly from what he's telling me. Oh no - Before I am ceremoniously put on jealous ex-wife alert, a) I remarried - not for better in the typical sense - only better because I have grown from the experience and will remain a very very choosy berry picker next time and b) my 2nd ex was considerly younger than me by about 14 years. I've been down that road and I do not envy it at all. At first its nice to know you *can* but fear not - it blows over without fanfare. A cougar indeed - MeeeeeYow.
From what I am hearing, she encourages him to party even more. As he checked his phone dozens of times waiting for evidence of her call, I wondered how he would make it through the night. I knew it was coming and was impressed at how long he waited before asking me if I had a beer in the fridge. I gave them to him - there were only two and one of them was some funky Lime flavor that I bought last November. He dumped that one out. At some point I will admit that I fell into Mommy mode and asked him to please not have company tonight and sent him home with pizza and a bottle of water. I don't ask him outright for my little girl's sake, please don't die because you had to keep up with a girl who's body CAN handle it still. But I'm vibing it. Maybe other people don't think a 30 pack per night habit is anything to worry about. Maybe I am making a silent big deal of this to myself. I just don't want to have to find the words someday to have any sort of talk with Humanling about her dad *not coming back*. I was already afraid 8 years ago that someday she would see him pushing a shopping cart full of returnables someday. Thankfully it hasn't exactly happened just like that. He has enabling friends who wouldn't allow it.
The world is ok for now. Cavey called to say he is still feelin ungroovy and that he will call if he needs anything emergency wise. Of course in my only disconnected way of showing that I care without him taking a mile, I gave him pointers on how to deal with a heartattack as per those forwarded emails that I get periodically. Coughing and cayenne pepper baby!
1 comment:
Yoipes. Unfortunate. Wouldn't you feel better if he called 911 first, before you, in the case of emergency?
The man who dated my mother while I was growing up was a man like this, sans cigs. He had a bunch of children from his ex who were friends of mine constellationally. One night his son (who was around my age at the time) came pounding up our steps to scream that he had discovered his father's body in the apartment across the way.
The memory still feels like I dreamed it or saw it in a movie on late night TV, as that I can't remember how it ended after I followed him to confirm. We couldn't have been no more than 16.
Ugh. What'd I go tell that for? I guess to say your concerns are legit.
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