Low Road

Two roads diverged for me on Mother’s Day some twenty years ago. Having a pleasant day with my mother-in-law when her son, my husband took me for a ride. He was angry, for unknown reasons. Things had been tense between us for months, I thought we were working things out.

Suddenly he pulled the car over and practically screamed in my face “I’m been having an affair with Michelle for the last year.” It took only moments for the words to register, Michelle a girl from his work I had befriended. A woman who came to our house often and spent some holidays with us.

I exploded, using words I never used. Calling him names I didn’t think were in me. My dilemma do I tell him the truth or just let him find out on his own about the literal whore he was sleeping with. She had confided in me, she just left my husband’s name off her list.

I decided to take the low road, and defied the confidence Michelle had given me. I laid into him “Michelle, really, that whore.” He tried to stop me, to defend his mistress. “So now I have to worry about STDs on top of everything else.”

“What are you talking about, Michelle is clean.”

“Clean…” I laughed, “I know for a fact that she is sleeping with at least 13 other people. Most of whom you know.” Listing off the people he worked with, men he personally knew that his love was sleeping with. I ended with “And let’s not forget your brother.”

That threw him into a rage. “I told them to stop seeing each other. I told Chuck he was to stay away from her.” He ranted on and on about his threats to his older brother.

I was crying and laughing “Well it seems they didn’t listen, he goes to visit her about every two weeks.”

My husband’s rage continued. He called Michelle “Is it true, are you sleep with Chuck?” he demanded.

“Who told you that?” she questioned.

“Kay did. She said you are also sleeping with others. Is that true? You told me I was the only one.”

“How dare her tell you that I told her that in confidence. And why on earth would you tell her about us?” avoiding the question.

“I had to come clean. I needed to tell her the truth about us. Now answer my question.” Michelle hung up on him, angry herself.

“Take me back to the house” I demanded through my screams and tears. Slamming the car into gear, he drove like a bat out of hell back to his mother’s house. Jumping out as soon as we pulled in, I did the next most despicable thing I could, running into his mother’s house with his brothers and very close friends inside I tore through the door. Immediately everyone knew something was wrong.

His sweet mother stopped me, “What’s wrong, Kay? Where is David?” David was right behind me.

I looked straight into his mother’s eyes and very bluntly told her. “David has been having an affair for over a year.” His mother didn’t seem shocked. That hurt to see the truth in her face, she knew. Adding “Same girl Chuck has been seeing.” There was the shock. She turned towards her oldest son.

From the moment we are born we know absolutely nothing. It is only through teaching that we learn.

Our parents taught us to eat, walk, form sounds to form words. Our teachers taught us everything from reading to writing, mathematics, science, history and so much more.

We’ve learned about relationships from family, friends, bosses, coworkers, people we’ve dated and/or married, plus every other person that exists in our worlds.

I know I consider it a wasted day if I don’t learn at least one new thing, it doesn’t matter what it is.

Learning is a necessity, but also a desire for many of us. It’s what drives us to be better people, better storytellers and writers.

So, I believe that this statement is untrue, we can research and learn anything about any subject. In the end, it is up to us, but you can write about what’s familiar or what’s not, all it takes is the desire to learn.

Strapping in for my first flight in a Cessna single engine plane was exciting and nerve wracking all at the same time. It was my first flight ever in an aircraft. Sucking my breathe in as we slowly rolled to the small grass runway.

Once given the ok, we rolled faster and faster down that runway, closing my eyes afraid to look. As the plane lifted off leaving the ground beneath, I felt my heart in my throat with butterflies fluttering around inside my stomach. The pilot laughed as he told me I could open my eyes. Once open I released the breathe I had been holding, looking out and seeing the pure beauty of the blue sky. A feeling of excitement mixed with awe came over me.

The houses, buildings, trees all looked like a small play town. Cars moving along the thin strips of roads reminded me of ants in an ant farm. It was a completely different world in full motion. Everyday noises became serene. Lakes were bluer than I’d ever seen them from so far above. I could imagine jumping into one and never hitting the bottom.

White, fluffy clouds appeared, more breathe taking than I could have dreamed of. Looking like cotton candy floating. Without warning, we slipped inside the largest of the clouds. Being surrounded by pure white fluffiness was breathtaking and exhilarating. Lasting only a few minutes, we punched a hole in the other side. The blue sky and sunshine were blinding at first, I wanted to do it again. What a fascinating experience.

The sky began to grow darker, before the stars were out, I looked below to see all the cities lights flickering on. It was like looking at the world upside down. A glorious, beautiful site as we headed home.

Sparkling dots against a black canvas, my best girl by my side. As I lean in for that perfect kiss a huge boom jolts me out of my cot. It takes a moment for my brain to clear and register what I’m hearing as my brothers rush to dress. Following in suit, we grab our firearms and rush out into the darkest of nights. No moon, no stars, just pure blackness surrounds us.

Then small flashes dot the hill below us, “Incoming” someone screams. We all take cover as a barrage of gunfire begins. Aiming in the direction of the sounds, we all begin firing back. It has begun, what we were trained for, what we were warned about, what we were told by Major Stinson “Don’t allow them to take the hill. We must save the hill.”

From the moment of that first boom, the fighting began and it didn’t stop. For four straight days, day and night, night and day, day after day, we fought our hardest. We maintained our positions and continued our assault.

By the fourth day, exhaustion began taking a toll on some of the younger, less seasoned soldiers. The noise made sleep virtually impossible. Being on the front lines wasn’t as glamorous as recruiters made it sound. It was downright, scary. From minute to minute not knowing if that next shell, or the next bullet would strike you. All of our lives hung before with every pull of the trigger, with every bullet that whizzed by you and every blast that landed within a stone throw of where you were.

Day five came with God awful, nauseating smells. Smells we all struggled to deal with. The smells of death mixed with gunpowder intertwined with the stench of sweat, vomit, piss, and shit. Odors that hung over the camp as well as the battlefield, permeated into our clothing and our bodies. Not even the occasion shower would relieve the senses of the horrendous smells. Cadavers began to swell to as much as twice their normal size forcing stomachs to burst releasing foul smelling gases to add to the overload.

Besides the odors and continuous firefights, many began to show signs they were unable to deal with the mental tolls the constant battle was taking on all of us. On the seventh day, I saw two from another platoon take their own lives. The risks of friendly fire became.

When nighttime fell the only light was the flicker of embers dotted around camp from cigarettes. Beer and whiskey were used to wash whatever tastes you could from your mouths. The metallic taste of blood, sometimes your own, sometimes another’s. Rest did not come easily, no matter how hard you tried or how drunk you got. In the distance there was always sounds of the battlefield getting closer and closer.

Today bombers arrived, blasting away large areas we would never reach. Screams from our faceless enemy could be heard throughout the night, as the aerial assault continued.

Day ten arrived, I could no longer look at or think about the men we’d lost. It became pure and simple survival. I had to get home to my family, and to my girl. As the assaults continued, the killing fields we began to refer to the hill, the 7 miles down with the many ravines were our enemy was so good at hiding. I continued to hear the Major’s voice in my head “Don’t give up the hill. we must save the hill.” All I could think of was “No, I must save myself.”

I had been witness to our chef, the nicest man you’d ever meet, being blown apart. My friend, my buddy hunkered down next to me was shot in the face, blood spewed over me. It was getting closer. The faceless slowly became faces I saw on the hillside, so close they could have cut me down if my instincts were just a little slower. Looking into their eyes, I saw the same fear I was feeling.

It became harder and harder to know which planes belonged to us and which belonged to the other side. Tanks rolled over everything in its path, crushing trees, matting the grass and bushes with such ease. From above you could see dots moving, running, screaming. If you didn’t know better, it was like watching a movie with surround sound.

Early on Day twenty, the gunfire began to cease, the shelling stopped. We were hopeful that it was over, at least for now. Word came down hours later, the enemy had retreated, they were regrouping moving their efforts to the next hill. Whoops and hollers came from all around.

Day twenty-one brought the hardest day of my young life. We were tasked with search and retrieval of bodies and US property. I stood and looked down the hill, the bloody hill littered with thousands upon thousands of dead bodies. Reality sat in as I trooped through the mud and blood, the tangled, mangled, dismembered bodies. Then I saw the faces of the dead, nightmarish empty faces, some disintegrating in the very place they dropped. Few distinguishing features on many, how would they ever be identified.

As a man of faith, I began to see the truth about war, not just this war, but every way. The reality of the past six days had come to light. Looking down at these bodies we called the enemy, tears welled in my eyes. These boys, these men were just like me, just like those of us on the other side, their enemy. They were fighting for what they believed, just like me. They were husbands, fathers, sons, and brothers. They were no different than me, just born in a different place. They loved and they were loved. “Oh, Dear God, what have I done?” I mumbled to myself.

Right then and there I fell to my knees, sinking into the mud and blood, I cried and begged “Lord, please forgive me for what I’ve done. Please forgive me for my part in this killing, for going against Your word, Your commandments. Oh, Lord, please forgive me, cleanse me of the terrible things I’ve done. Help me to deal with the travesties that have taken place here. Oh, my Lord, please, please forgive me, lead me back to the person I know I am.”

Two roads diverged for me on Mother’s Day some twenty years ago. Having a pleasant day with my mother-in-law when her son, my husband took me for a ride. He was angry, for unknown reasons. Things had been tense between us for months, I thought we were working things out.

Suddenly he pulled the car over and practically screamed in my face “I’m been having an affair with Michelle for the last year.” It took only moments for the words to register, Michelle a girl from his work I had befriended. A woman who came to our house often and spent some holidays with us.

I exploded, using words I never used. Calling him names I didn’t think were in me. My dilemma do I tell him the truth or just let him find out on his own about the literal whore he was sleeping with. She had confided in me, she just left my husband’s name off her list.

I decided to take the low road, and defied the confidence Michelle had given me. I laid into him “Michelle, really, that whore.” He tried to stop me, to defend his mistress. “So now I have to worry about STDs on top of everything else.”

“What are you talking about, Michelle is clean.”

“Clean…” I laughed, “I know for a fact that she is sleeping with at least 13 other people. Most of whom you know.” Listing off the people he worked with, men he personally knew that his love was sleeping with. I ended with “And let’s not forget your brother.”

That threw him into a rage. “I told them to stop seeing each other. I told Chuck he was to stay away from her.” He ranted on and on about his threats to his older brother.

I was crying and laughing “Well it seems they didn’t listen, he goes to visit her about every two weeks.”

My husband’s rage continued. He called Michelle “Is it true, are you sleep with Chuck?” he demanded.

“Who told you that?” she questioned.

“Kay did. She said you are also sleeping with others. Is that true? You told me I was the only one.”

“How dare her tell you that I told her that in confidence. And why on earth would you tell her about us?” avoiding the question.

“I had to come clean. I needed to tell her the truth about us. Now answer my question.” Michelle hung up on him, angry herself.

“Take me back to the house” I demanded through my screams and tears. Slamming the car into gear, he drove like a bat out of hell back to his mother’s house. Jumping out as soon as we pulled in, I did the next most despicable thing I could, running into his mother’s house with his brothers and very close friends inside I tore through the door. Immediately everyone knew something was wrong.

His sweet mother stopped me, “What’s wrong, Kay? Where is David?” David was right behind me.

I looked straight into his mother’s eyes and very bluntly told her. “David has been having an affair for over a year.” His mother didn’t seem shocked. That hurt to see the truth in her face, she knew. Adding “Same girl Chuck has been seeing.” There was the shock. She turned towards her oldest son.

Chuck jumped up, “What are you talking about? She’s just seeing me.”

Turning to face Chuck I cried “Maybe you should talk to Michelle yourself. She’s sleeping with at least 12 other people I can name, not counting your brother.” He stormed out of the room.

I went to my room, packed my things and left. Not saying another word. As I left I could hear their mother screaming at both of them, as well as brothers tearing in to each other.

His mother warned me before the marriage, told me he’d me just like his own father who had cheated on her more than once. I didn’t want to believe her. David wasn’t his father. I had defended him, but my mother-in-law was right.

On my drive home I cried till there were no more tears. The two-hour drive home didn’t seem to calm me down at all. Our beautiful five-year-old daughter kept asking what was wrong.

When I arrived back home, I began gathering up all of David’s things stacking them in the garage. It would be the first thing he saw if he came home. Right on top of the pile I place a large note “I want a divorce.” Closed and locked the doors where he couldn’t get in.

I had taken the low road, and possibly slit a family apart. At that moment I no longer cared.

Dear Little Monster,

I never wanted you in my room, let alone under my bed. Yet here you are terrorizing me at night just like you do during the daytime. At night I think about what would happen if my bed collapsed and crushed you. Then I fear you will crawl out and end up in my bed with your little tiny arms wrapped so tightly around me I can’t move.

You dirty little monster, every move you make I feel, every sound you make I hear it. Why can’t you just stop, go back to where you were before.

I know you’re playing with and touching all my toys and books when I finally go to sleep. You laugh at me, I know it, I hear it.

I wish I could make you go away, forget you’re down there. Move on from all the nights you’ve slept beneath me. How do you get away from a little three-year-old that just won’t leave you alone all day, and you have to sleep above every night.

I was the baby until you came along, now you’re not only the new baby, you’re also the little monster that lives under my bed.

Big Sister

I sit and stare down at the blank screen before me. My mind filled with all the moments in history that I could go back and change. The most devasting of wars, hurricanes, volcanic eruptions, mass shootings, the list seems endless. Then I debate what to change, what aspect of each of these should go differently.

Suddenly it dawns on me, I cannot change any aspect of history, because if I do, I am altering a part that we might need. Yes, each event this world has experienced has happened for a reason and it is not up to me to change that. What if I made things worse, a more heinous catastrophe happened than the one I chose to alter. What if other things didn’t happen because of my choice. No, if the events should not have taken place, then I have to believe that God would have intervened.

So, back to square one. Then I realize there is one thing I can go back and change that would only affect this one person. To change, adjust, alter just one aspect of this person’s life and it would directly affect no one other than them. Friends and family would live their lives as they did. The world would continue to progress and change, as it has. The only effects of this alteration would be to this one individual.

I take my opportunity to go back to September 2008, the day my wonderful older sister and best friend received a terminal medical diagnosis. I would take this chance to go back and change the results of the tests and labs she received just after Labor Day that year. A diagnosis that she should never have received. At the young age of just 54 years old my sister, who never smoked a day in her life, was told she had Stage 4 Lung Cancer that had metastasized to other major organs.

Changing the prognosis, the results, the diagnosis would allow her to see her golden years, work towards her life’s goals and follow her dreams. She would see her 55th birthday and all the others that followed.

Yes, this is the right choice to make, to give a loving, outgoing, smart person back her life.