The Fragments of Love.....Chapter 7~~"What Is Really Going On!!?"~~ A Story By Sammye Kaye

DAKOTA CALUMET...The son
BETHANNY CALUMET...The daughter


Dakota

Sometimes it is hard being the eldest child. Perhaps 'hard' is a little extreme; challenging is probably more accurate.
I have been avoiding my baby sister's phone calls. I know what she wants to talk about, and for the first time in my life, I don't have any answers for what I am sure will be her questions.

Something bizarre is going on with our parents. Yes, they are our parents, and they are somewhat of a separate entity, but, honestly,,our family has always been so close, it is almost impossible to feel,,,left out of any part of our lives. Until now...
Let me clarify, my sister and I have always been taught to be independent and confident enough to be who we are. We have also been taught the importance of being  'present' for each other.

Honestly, the possibility that there is something serious affecting the lives of our parents is frightening.

If I can manage to be half the man that my father is, I will be thankful beyond words. His unconditional love for all of us is as constant and real as the moon and the sun. Dramatic?  Perhaps. But, no less true.
The devotion of my mother is no less.
As different as their personalities are, their willingness and ability to love is phenomenal.

At 6' 9'', I was fortunate enough to play in the NBA for three years. It was a great opportunity; one that I am grateful for, but I was not as driven as most young men would be. I had a serious knee injury that ended my career, but fortunately, not my dreams. I obtained my MBA while in the League. By the time I left, I owned two small business that I later sold to invest in my lifetime dream.
I have always wanted to be totally independent. I did not want to depend on anyone else for my livelihood. It has been said that I am like my grandfather in that regard.

My father taught my sister and I the importance of a healthy work ethic by making it mandatory that we work during any off times from school, and save 50% of every dime. We worked during the summer on our family ranch. He and his friends provided other types of jobs for all of their children.
The hard work just reinforced my desire to be my own boss.
I bought my first car when I was in the 10th grade. My Dad wanted me to buy an older car that needed to be fixed up. Mechanics is not my forte, or interest, so I bought an older car that was in great condition. When I received a full athletic scholarship for college, my parents put the entire cost of a 4 year education into my savings account they started when I was born.

 When I earned my first degree, my father bought me the car of my choice; even though he knew I was going to be able to afford it myself. He said it was something he wanted to do; I accepted the gift with the love that it was given.
 It was during these times I realized that my parents were, well,, very wealthy.
 I chose not to touch the money until I started my main business.  I lived quite well during my time in the League, but I still managed to save half of my salary.

I always knew that I wanted to meet a woman that I could love as much as my father loved my mother, and a woman who would love me as much as my mother loved him.
They compliment each other perfectly.
When I told my father that I had met the woman I wanted to marry, he asked me one question,,, "Would you, without hesitation, give your life for her?"  Without hesitation, I answered yes.
He smiled and told me that if she was that special, I needed to take her off the market before someone else realized just how special she was. He said that grown men don't waste time playing games with the woman they want to be a part of their life.
 I thought long and hard about the real meaning of his question; I proposed the next day.
My wife and I have seven year old twins. Langston, my son, and Leah, my daughter give real purpose to my life.
They are quite a pair, and a real challenge for a man who thought that having children was an experience I could do without. I was so very wrong; I cannot imagine life without them.

My mother was a little harder to convince, but Kelly is awesome, and my mother quickly understood how perfect we are for each other. I must admit that Kelly and Bethanny were so close at one time, that I was a little jealous. I have always been my baby sister's hero; I don't ever want that to change. One day over lunch, she quietly told me that I would always be her big brother,,always. I was once again reminded of how well we know each other.
She is one of the very few people who have  never been intimidated by my size, deep voice, or personality.

When Bethanny got pregnant during her sophomore year of college, I felt as if I had failed her. I had sat her down and told her just what to expect from men. I thought I had prepared her for the... 'games'.
I seriously wanted to wrap my fingers around the neck of the person who dared to impregnate my baby sister. To this day, I have a hard time being civil to this person. It is only for the sake of my beautiful niece that I did not show him what it really means to hurt my sister. I will never forget her tears when he rejected her. Oh, he tried to make amends later, and he is a decent father, but he will always be less than a man. Always.
My niece Gia is a blessing for all of us, so it is certainly true that God is always in control. Gia's birth helped me to rethink my view on being a parent.
My sister is a beautiful, strong confident woman who also happens to be an awesome mother.

I have talked to my Dad every other day since he has been gone, and his voice has been even more quiet than usual. At first I thought it was work related, but I am a man, and his quietness is coming from his heart.
My Mom has been almost avoiding any conversation with me. Her voice is,,somewhat tense. But, she has been on a sharper edge than usual for a few months. I miss our talks; I miss my mother.

We both know that our parents do not take separate vacations. My Dad has never stayed on an assignment this long without at least flying home for a night whenever possible.
Now, after being apart for a month, my mother is having a gathering to welcome him home.
For these two people who have a suite for a bedroom. A suite that is soundproof. A suite that my sister and I would rummage through when the opportunity arose. Yep, we would find all kinds of interesting,,,items.
Two people who rarely pass each other without a gentle touch.

We would expect our parents to be locked away for at least a week before any homecoming celebration.

My phone is ringing. It's Bethanny..

Chapter 8.....Bethanny speaks

The Fragments of Love.....Chapter 6 ~~"Is That My Face in The Mirror?"~~ A Story by Sammye Kaye

VANESSA CALUMET
~~arrives home~~

Time seemed to stop. I cried until all of my tears were gone. Did I feel better? No, I actually felt worse.

I left my luggage in my car and slowly walked to the door leading into my custom designed kitchen. Oddly, I remembered to leave my shoes in the adjacent mud room.
 I also remembered my mother's response when I told her this area was a 'mud room'. She had shaken her head and wondered aloud why anyone would take the time to officially name any space, a mud room. I carefully explained to her that it was a place to leave anything that you did not want to bring dirt and clutter into the house.

 She simply gave me her trademark patient and slightly amused look, before just as carefully stating that it just seemed to be a way to bring the back porch into the house; same concept,,keep the dirty stuff separate from the clean.

With her words in mind, I did not feel that I deserved to enter my home.
My beautiful home that was built with with love and care. This home is a perfect combination of each member of my family. Each person's view and personality can be seen throughout the entire space. Both of our grown children and our grandchildren have permanent rooms in the house. Downsizing has never crossed any of our minds.

This will always be,,,home.
Our home,, that I have defiled.

This cold reality brought me to my knees. As I stretched my prone body on the kitchen floor, I once again thought about dying.

By the time I pulled myself up from the floor, my body was stiff and sore. I left the kitchen and went into the family room. I stopped and looked around the room that was filled with the presence of my beloved family. Every picture, every memento simply added to my pain. My heart was literally filled with burning pain.
I forced myself to run up the stairs; but of course, I could not run away from myself.
Before I opened the door of our suite,, ,, I tried in vain to pray.

I took a deep breath and walked into the room that has always been my safe haven.
 A room where our love was free to be expressed in any manner we chose.
A room where our dreams and fears were shared with the trust that comes from genuine unconditional love.
As I struggled to breath, I wondered if this room would soon become my personal hell.

I fell across the bed and cried myself to a fretful sleep.

The loud ring of the land line jarred me awake. It was my mother. I answered with an exaggerated sleep filled voice, and my mother quickly told me to go back to sleep; she was just checking on me.
I decided to call Marcus with that same 'voice', so he would not be worried about me.

It did not escape me that now,,I was concerned about his feelings..

Lord, am I going crazy??  Is that what my mother was trying to tell me??

The next day, Marcus called to tell me that he would be in New York for at least a week longer than expected, and they were unable to come home. I missed my husband deeply, but I saw the longer stay as a blessing directly from God. Whether it was a blessing for Marcus, or me, did not matter right now. The extra time would allow the bite marks to heal. Hopefully.

The next morning, I was surprised to wake up with a uncomfortable burning sensation in and around my vagina. I used a mirror to have a closer look, but other than the now angry looking bruises, I saw nothing else that was odd.
By mid-day, I had a nasty discharge.

I was stunned.
I am 58 years old,,this is just NOT happening to me.

I made a frantic call to my doctor, who is also a close friend. I was literally numb as I took an almost scalding hot bath.
 Once again I tried to pray; once again,, it was in vain. Instead, I cried until I reached the parking lot.
Before the examination, I told my friend everything. She tried to comfort me, but to no avail.
I could never have imagined the type of shame I felt as I placed my legs in the stirrups.
After the exam and I was back in the doctor's office, I did my best to make my mind a total blank.  There was an on sight lab, and since my friend wanted to get the results quickly, she walked the samples downstairs.

After what seemed like days, my doctor returned.
With a very sad and regretful look, she informed me that as she suspected,,, I have chlamydia.
She also informed me that she was giving me a tetanus shot as a precaution regarding the bite marks.

I was speechless.

She also told me to thank God, because this man was obviously a sick bastard.
He knew I was married, and he chose to 'brand' me in his own special way.
Brand me??
Merciful heaven..
.
She explained  that for some men, this is a show of demented power. They choose cruises because the time and space is a pretty much controlled environment. A woman alone is a perfect target; whether she is a willing participant or not.
The fact that she is alone is often a green flag,,,a signal that she just might be vulnerable enough for their,,game.
She finished by saying that my bruises will heal and the STD can be treated.
He just as easily could have drugged, and robbed me and thrown me overboard.

My dear friend cried with me before I left her office.
She insists that I come back to her office next week for a follow-up and to have a long overdue talk about my hormones.
Yes, yes, I know.

I stopped and had the prescription filled; and yes,,,I was embarrassed. I could just imagine the entire staff looking with horror and amusement at the 'elderly' woman with,,,I did not even want to think about the word..

I went home and thought about every choice I had made during the last year of my life.
I no longer had the luxury of tears,or dramatic thoughts of dying; that would be much too easy.
It was time for me to face the person in my mirror.

Finally, after all this time, I was able to get on my knees and,,,,pray.

Chapter 7~ The kids speak

The Fragments of Love.....Chapter 5 ~~New York, New York~~ / A Story by Sammye Kaye

MARCUS CALUMET
~alone in New York~

The city is thick with raw emotions. The grief for the innocent lives lost is the first emotion visible  on almost every face that you see. Shock is a very close second. We live in the great United States of America; this type of tragedy is simply not supposed to happen in this country,,to our people.
The fact that this has indeed happened, has opened the door to the unspoken feelings of,,fear. This is the type of fear that crosses all lines of diversity.
 The question becomes,,will this event draw us closer, or pull us apart?

Thankfully, I was too busy during the first week, to focus on the state of my marriage. We worked 12 hour shifts, and by the time my head hit the pillow, I was knocked out.

By the second week, my body had more or less adjusted to the schedule. Suddenly, neither my mind nor my body were adjusting to being away from my wife.  I was waking up several times during the night, reaching out and touching an empty space.
She called three times during the first week. We spoke briefly, and I at least knew that she was okay.
But, I hung up the phone feeling sad. My feelings were similar during our lovemaking on the morning I left for New York. The passion was almost bittersweet.

I decided not to go home on weekends. I had no desire to go home to an empty house. My mother and the kids were checking on the house.
Our two dogs were 'vacationing' with my mother. They would both need to be placed on a diet by the time we returned home.  My mother loved animals; especially dogs, and they would probably move in with her if they could make that happen.
I smiled at the thought.

My team is made up of six men ranging in ages from 32-52. Four of the men are married, and neither of the remaining two have ever been married.
We are an interesting bunch by any account.  In private, we refer to ourselves as the 'Dudes of Diversity',,,,,yeah, corny,,but effective. There are two Caucasians, one Hispanic/American, one Asian/American, one Jewish/American and one African/American.
 Four of us have worked together for the last 15 years. I hand picked these men because I wanted the wealth of knowledge and insight our differences could collectively utilize.
It has worked because we have proven our respect and trust for each other, many times over.

I must admit that for the most part, my team is using this time away from home to unwind. I have never been a party animal and this would not be a great time to start.
I might just enjoy it.
However, I did rent a flick a couple of nights ago, but I fell asleep within the first ten  minutes,,so perhaps I am safe.
I realized that what I really needed was some real comfort. I decided to use this much needed time to study my Bible, reflect and pray about my marriage,,and my life.
I love God with all of my being, but I am guilty of pushing the study of His word to the bottom of my list of what is important.
I will use what is a very sad time for me to glorify my Father.
Don't we always?

I called Vanessa on her way home. Her voice was,,,distant. She is obviously still in the same place she was before her trip.

I just found out that we will stay in New York for an extra week.

Chapter 6...Vanessa arrives home

The Fragments of Love.....Chapter 4 ~~Vanessa Departs~~ / A Story by Sammye Kaye

VANESSA CALUMET
~~the cruise~~

The days leading up to my departure were strained. Marcus and I managed to successfully avoid each other. We made love the night before he left for New York.  No matter what is going on in our lives, we have always been able to keep our passion flowing. Our libidos have always been in sync with each other. I must admit, there was almost a feeling of what ? Sadness?
I quickly pushed that thought aside.

I am excited about my trip. I have purposely kept my true feelings to myself. My mother acted as if someone had passed away. Na'nie Tia has been unusually quiet. Even Lena has been cautious regarding her comments.  I casually mentioned my trip to my children in order to avoid any questions that I had no intention of answering.  I even chose to drive myself to the dock and leave the car in the parking lot.

The cabin was beautiful. The fact that I was unable to get a refund for Marcus, never entered my mind.
My mother told me that I should at least be honest with myself, and admit that I wanted to go alone.
Okay, I will admit that,,fact.

I slept most of the first two days. I had no idea how tired I was. I actually missed a couple of meals.
The morning of the 3rd day found me rested and ready to enjoy this trip.
The people assigned to my table were all very nice. I was the only single person, and the seat assigned to Marcus remained empty. I simply refused to look at it.
The ease in which I moved around the ship was surprising to me. I have been a married woman for most of my life, but seriously, I felt anything but a married woman.
I drank, I danced, I did whatever I felt like doing..
The first week flew by. So far, I had enjoyed every moment of the trip.
 I did remember to e-mail Marcus three times during the first week.

I love music, and the band was awesome. I noticed the same very handsome man always sat in the same seat. He seemed to be alone. Our eyes had locked a couple of times and we both smiled.
Two nights before we were scheduled to return home, one of the band members asked the man if he would join them. He was an amazing drummer. I stood up and clapped loudly when he finished.
He came directly over to my table and asked if I enjoyed his ,,performance. We sat at my table and talked until the club closed for the morning. He had ordered wine and we finished off a couple of bottles..

I remember how nice,,and naughty,, his first passionate kiss was. We ended up going back to my cabin.
The sex was hot and forceful; almost,, rough. But apparently not too rough for me to stop.
We spent the last two days in my cabin,,in bed,,,drinking and having sex.

Finally, it was time to prepare to leave the ship. He left the room and I ran a long overdue bath.
When I eased into the hot water, I immediately felt stinging, almost burning sensations over the lower region of my body.
I suddenly felt a sense of panic. I quickly finished washing my aching body and went to the bedroom to make a thorough examination. I got the mirror from my suitcase and was shocked by what I saw.
My groin area was covered in deep, small bite marks, from just below my stomach to the inside of my thighs.

I wanted to die. Instantly.

If I had planned on going home and keeping my leap into nastiness and adultery a secret,,,this was a serious wake-up call. These bruises would not quickly disappear. My complexion and their depth would make that impossible.

I suddenly felt as if I had been hit by a train.
I couldn't even cry.

I don't remember packing my suitcases and leaving the cabin.
I do remember seeing my nameless 'lover' getting into his car and driving away.

My tears did not begin to fall until I pulled into the garage of my home.
My husband would be home in 48 hours.
What was I going to do??


Chapter 5,,,Marcus in New York

The Fragments of Love.....Chapter 3 ~Mothers Always Know~ / A Story by Sammye Kaye

ITIA CALUMET
~~his mother~~

My son has always been the center of my life. This was true when he was born, and it is still true today. His marriage to Vanessa allowed me to understand how it feels to love a daughter, and have that daughter love me. Vanessa has a wonderful mother, and she has never needed an extra, but she is my bonus child.

It has been both a blessing and a joy to see their love grow and blossom over these years. Neither one of them are perfect, but,,there love is perfect for them.
To see my child in a loving relationship means more to me than I can explain.
He grew up knowing my love, but his father never learned how to demonstrate his love to the people that he truly loved; if that makes sense.
No matter; my son and I both survived.

My deceased husband firmly believed in the ownership of property. He worked two jobs most of his life, in order to leave his son financially secure.
My son has added to his inheritance many times over.
Marcus and Vanessa live in a beautiful home that sits in the middle of six acres of lushness.
My modest cottage sits on the same property, a little less than a mile away. A winding road lined with a combination of wild flowers and evergreens connects our homes.
We jointly own a large working horse ranch ten miles outside of the city. The original house built by my husband is where I spend most summers. Marcus and Vanessa have a large home that they use for short vacations. Their children actually spend more time at the farm than their parents.

Marcus and Vanessa started a Co-Op 20 years ago that provides fresh produce for the nearby Native American community, at no cost. I personally find the word commonly used to describe these communities to be offensive.

This evening, Marcus drove past me without even seeing me. The look on his face spoke volumes. I could see the simmering look of anger so familiar in his father; but rarely present in my son. My son, who has always been 'slow to anger'.

Of course I am concerned, but I never invite myself into other grown folks business. Both Tina and I have been worried about the mood swings Vanessa has been trying desperately to ignore. She refuses to accept that the hormonal roller coaster of some women, will bring the strongest woman to her knees.
Chances are, Marcus is more moody than usual, and Vanessa is more emotional.
It is the love and respect they have for each other that has helped their marriage survive their stark differences in personalities.
At this point, all I can do is pray for my children. I will ask God to prepare all of us for the storm that I know is headed this way..
I just know.

TINA MORGAN
~~her mother~~

I woke up this morning with a heavy heart. This usually means that I need to get myself prayed up, because a storm is brewing on the horizon.
When Vanessa told me last night about the cruise she booked, I wanted to cry.
There was nothing loving about her decision. We all know that Marcus hates cruises.
She doesn't want him to go.

My first born child entered a world where she was treated like the blessing that she was. I had two miscarriages prior to her birth, and had almost given up hope of ever holding my own baby in my arms. The lost of two babies had left me emotionally drained and very much afraid.
Delvyn and I doted on our tiny, beautiful baby girl. Vanessa was born with a strong attitude. My mother was a tiny woman with a big, warm heart. Vanessa is a tiny woman with good heart and a big, bossy mouth.
I can say this, because she is my child.
She is also a wonderful daughter. She was her Daddy's princess from the day she was born, until the day he died.
She married Marcus and became his queen in every sense of the word.
 Being loved is all she has ever known.
Her emotions, all of them,,,, are full of passion. Her loyalty to those she loves is phenomenal. Her ire is almost scary.
Trying to tell her something she does not want to hear is a total waste of time.

When I was going through the change of life, I felt as if someone else was sharing my body. My poor husband told me that he seriously thought about leaving me. I truly understand. And I have a laid back personality!
I knew that Vanessa would be a force to be reckoned with.
Poor Marcus..

Like so many other young women, Vanessa is convinced that older woman could never understand the restlessness that is sure to show up during our lifetime. Most people wonder if 'this' is all there is to their life.
It is not unusual to feel like a mere shadow of a strong man; even one that is kind and gentle.

I know that she is headed for a hard fall.
I have no choice but to surrender my fears to the Lord.

I need to check my blood pressure, because now I have a big time headache.
This is going to be a very long day.
If grown children would just understand that a loving parent will rarely tell them anything that is not for their own good.
Some of them just will not listen.

Mothers always,,know.
We just do.

.
Chapter 4 ~ Turbulent Seas~~

The Fragments of Love.....Chapter 2 ~Marcus~ / A Story by Sammye Kaye

MARCUS CALUMET
~~~the husband~~~


There have been many times during the last 30+ years that Vanessa has pushed my patience into unknown territory.
Never, have I been this angry at anyone that I love.
My wife is difficult on her best days. In no way, form or fashion has her attitude and selfishness ever affected my unconditional love for her.
The woman I saw tonight was a stranger.

I have always been fascinated by the sheer force of my wife's personality. Her passion is a part of every facet of her being. If she loves you, she loves you with a love so strong, it is almost palpable. If she dislikes someone, her dislike is just as obvious.

She was 15 years old the first time I saw her. She had her hand on one hip, and was shaking her finger in the face of a tall, lanky young man who was trying to pull away from her wrath. I later found out that the young man had made an unacceptable comment about her best friend, Lena; who is still her best friend. The fact that she had to look quite a ways up at the young man, did not phase her at all.
I feel in love with her at that moment.

I have always treated my wife in the manner that I felt my mother should have been treated by my father.
My father was a man who never figured out how he felt about being a double minority. Although he was proud of his heritage as a Native American/ Black man, he also had a simmering anger regarding his role in a country that he was taught to love unconditionally by his elders.
He was an educated man who allowed his anger to hinder the use of that education to help his people,,, a people he so desperately wanted to help.
His anger kept him from being a loving husband and father.
He seemed to be afraid of,,peace.
Maybe he just didn't believe he deserved the life he had worked so hard to build.
He was killed in a drunken barroom brawl before he could ever figure what path to take.
How sad and ironic that his death would have been fodder for the average armchair racist.

I understand my father's frustration. I even understand his anger. But,,,,as I stood watching my grandfather and my uncles perform the burial rituals for this man who never told me he loved me, I made the decision to live my life in a different way.

That was also the day that I asked God to come into my life, to show me how to get it right.
I fully understood that I could/can do nothing without His love and guidance.

My ancestors from both sides of my heritage have paid for my right to love this country of ,,ours.
I decided to join the FBI in order to make a difference from the inside out.

One person will not change the system.
However,,,
When a door opens for one person, that person can at least attempt to hold the door open for someone else to enter.

It's funny how much of your past enters your mind when you are having a hard time dealing with your present....

What?.,,,I didn't realize I had driven this far.
Did my unexpected anger invite the ghosts of my father to my pity party??

I need to do some serious praying.


The bottom line is pretty simple,,,my wife seems to have lost her mind.
I have no doubt that she will go on the cruise without me.
I could probably stop her, but what would that prove??
She has to follow her heart.
It is a code we have always honored.
Until now, our hearts always managed to follow the same basic path..

So,,, I will go to New York.
I will also pray for my wife's safety, my sanity and our marriage.

Am I afraid?
Yes. I am very much afraid.

Chapter 3 ~ Nanie Tia~ ( Marcus's mother) and~ Miz Tina~ (Vanessa's mother)

The Fragments of Love.....Chapter 1~Vanessa~ / A Story by Sammye Kaye

VANESSA CALUMET

~~~the wife~~~

 

 

When someone mentions 9/11, a shiver runs down my spine. Not only because of the attack on our country, but because during that week, my life began a downward spiral.

 

I would become my worst possible enemy.

 

If I am honest with myself, my path to pain began roughly two years earlier. My 55th birthday seemed to expose a side of myself that I had rarely witnessed before. I am well aware that I have a strong personality. I know that I can be pushy, and maybe even rude, but never with those that I love. 

Overall, I have gotten much better over the years. I really have. 

At least,,, I had gotten better...

Intense anger had never been a part of the mix.

Until this time in my life....

 

I have been blessed to have the best husband in the world. We are almost polar opposites.

Marcus is 6' 6'' inches of gorgeousness. He is Native American, with just enough Black spread throughout his genes to give him the look of a big fine Samoan. Marcus is kind and considerate of others, almost to a fault.

 

I am 5'4'' in heels. I am pretty and petite with curves. And,,,, I am selfish, almost to a fault. 

Marcus and I met when we were in high school. I loved him from the first moment I saw him. We seriously thought about eloping, but I knew my father and Marcus's mother would have tracked us down and locked us up somewhere until we came to our senses.

 

We waited until Marcus got his first degree before we got married. I took my time graduating because, I was blessed to get a job as office manager for a growing team of physicians. My job grew along with the practice. I retired last year from the position of Director of Operations for six clinics.

 

I never had to work. Marcus has always been an excellent provider for me and our two children. He has always insisted that any money I made was for 'extras'.

I loved,,extras.

I was a spoiled wife. Anything I wanted, I received. I tried to be mature about 'stuff' but Marcus made it easy for me to demand so much.

Marcus has always known how much I love him. I have supported every dream he has ever had.

I would gladly die for him.

 

Six months ago, I began to feel totally dissatisfied with my life. I was restless, irritated, and short tempered...

Okay, even more than usual. 

One day, out of the blue, even my eldest grandchild asked me if I was sick. Now, my baby is only 14 years old, and I should have listened closer to what she had to say; or at the very least, question why.

 

My mother was the first person to actually confront me about my behavior.

I had,,almost,, snapped at her about.. something.

I remember the day well....

 

Mama: " Vanessa, what is wrong with you?"   "Something serious HAS to be wrong with you, to use that tone with me!"

 

Vanessa: ( sighing) " I'm sorry Mama."  "Nothing is wrong with me; I am just tired!"

Mama:  " Tired of what?"  " You are retired from work."  "Your housekeeper comes in three times a week". "Only you and Marcus are here" . :What on earth could you be tired of!?"

Vanessa: " My life Mama!? "  "I am tired of my life!"  "And, no disrespect Mama, but I don't need you to remind me of my many blessings!"  " Please,,,I know!"  " And,,,you will be surprised to know that, contrary to every one's belief, Marcus cannot walk on water, and he is not a saint!"

 

It was a few moments before my mother spoke. I was surprised by the gentleness in her voice...

 

Mama: "Okay, now listen to me Vanessa. You have reached a time in your life when you might wake up with feelings that make absolutely no sense at all" Baby,,,"

Vanessa: (laughing) " Stop Mama!" " Please do not give me the hormone story!" Me and my hormones are just fine, thank you very much!"

Mama: "Vanessa, you were high strung when you were two years old!"  " I tried to prepare you for this possibility several years ago, but you refused to listen." Talk to your doctor baby!"

 

Needless to say, I did not listen to my mother, or my husband when he suggested that I make an appointment with my doctor, after one of my,,tantrums. 

I have rarely allowed anyone to tell me what to feel, or how to act.

 

Marcus and I have been married over 30 years. He has worked for the FBI for 20 of those years.

He is far from a pushover, and he does have limits. I happen to know what those limits are, and when he gives me that certain look, I back off.

 

I had decided that I wanted to go on a two week international cruise. Marcus hates cruises, but I made the arrangements and planned on surprising him.

If I whined and cried long and hard enough, he always gave in.

We were scheduled to leave on September 18.

 

My husband came home on 9/12 and announced that he had to go to New York. He was taking a hand picked team, and would be gone for at least three weeks. Surprisingly, he and his team would come home on weekends; which is rarely possible. He suggested that I spend the last week with him in New York. He knows how much I love to shop,,,anywhere; but especially New York.
 

All in all, he was quite pleased with himself.

He desperately wanted to help in some way; that is simply who he is.
I know that he loves his job, and he is an expert in his field. 

He also seemed to be excited about the 'away' time we would have together.

 

I was,,livid!!.

With much attitude, I told him about the cruise.....

.

Marcus: ( after several minutes of silence and looking closely at his wife) " Okay, let me see if I can get this straight." 

"Vanessa, are you telling me that you have booked a two week cruise without mentioning it to me first?"  "Or, hell, even as an after thought?" 

Vanessa: " Marcus, it was a surprise!"

Marcus: (huge sigh) " Did you somehow forget that I am not a fan of surprises,,and I happen to hate cruises?"  " Or as is the norm, you basically don't care!"  "My vote goes for number two!"

Vanessa:  " Well, I don't recall you informing me about your trip to New York!"

Marcus:  "Inform you?"  "Vanessa, this is my job..."

 

Vanessa: " Oh please Marcus! You know that you want to go! Always Mr. Wonderful, and I am always the crazy, thankless cow!"

Marcus: (softly) " Cow is not the word that comes to my mind."

 

Vanessa: "Frankly, I really don't care!"

 

I will never forget that night as long as I live.
Marcus left the house.

 

My pathway to pain had officially begun....both receiving and giving,

 

 

*Next Post: MARCUS CALUMET~~~the husband~~~