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closer to leaving Despite the poor communication with Ann yesterday, it wasn't that bad of a day. Even though I didn't hear from her, I did hear from my parents. I was told that my dad had convinced my uncle and cousin to help him with the remodelling project. Actually the project will probably last until May, but my dad needed some help in moving some heavy and bulky supplies. Now as he put it, I'm off the hook. Hearing that made me feel better, but it felt even better when I didn't have to go to work last night. Longer weekends are always so sweet. ... I was thinking some more about what Dan and I had talked about on Monday night. At our age quite a few people are married and raising children and I have to wonder how far off that might be in my life. To be honest I couldn't imagine it. Sometimes I think that that it why it works better for people to get married when they are younger. That headstrong naivete is what lets them survive. I've had too many years to think about what could go wrong. Twice I've come close to be married. Both times it didn't happen. Sigh. Here I go again skirting around a story that I do and don't want to tell. Five years ago I was a father. I still remember the phone call that I got at work. Unexpected would be an understatement. She was crying. I didn't know why. Then she told me. She had had a miscarriage. If and how long she knew she was pregnant, I don't know. I never asked. All that I heard her say was that I had been a dad and that our child was dead. I guess that some people could point out that quite a few women have miscarriages. It isn't that uncommon. None of that really matters when the woman who at the time was the center of my world was crying and literally hundreds of miles away from me. There was nothing that I could do except listen to her cry and tell her that I loved her. Maybe I had done something wrong. Maybe she had done something wrong. Maybe it wasn't meant to be. I don't know. Maybe this was some strange sign that we didn't belong togther. I don't know. What I do know is that it was the worst day of my life. I'll confess that I can't remember that exact day. Part of me has managed to suppress that information. I do, however, remember driving the two hundred some miles to be with her. I also remember hearing her tell me what she saw on that night that it happened. Later while I was there, the two of us stood outside on that cold late winter night holding each other. She said that she had read somewhere that some other religions say that unborn babies become stars. Then she looked up and picked one out. She wanted me to name it. Maybe it was the cold air or maybe I was crying, but I couldn't focus very well when I looked up. She was waiting for me to say something, but I didn't say anything, I just held her. More than likely I probably wanted to put it out of my mind as quickly as possible. It didn't work though. Part of me still remembers that if things had been a little different, there would be a five year old boy or girl calling me dad today. I never told my next girlfriend who so desperately wanted a baby that this had happened. In my mind it was something between my old girlfriend and myself. I never even told my parents. They didn't need to know either. I imagine that I must come across as a real ass here some of the time, but what I felt that day is not something that I would wish on anyone else. Oh, I know that the world is a harsh place, but I never felt so vulnerable in my life. Everything was out of my control or so it seemed at the time. I had made a mistake and I couldn't fix it. We never talked about that night again. It was something that we knew that had had happened, but we didn't talk about it. I think that her mom might have mentioned it once to me, but that was it. Life just kept moving forward. She had told me that she had had a miscarriage once before, but that wasn't my child that died. I'm not saying that I fully understood how it had affected her, but I know what kind of impact that it had on me. As I said I don't talk about this anymore. Actually I think that I have only told two people face to face about this happening. Maybe I am overreacting or maybe I am trying to make up for how little I reacted when it did happen. In the world of what if and what might have been, things could have been very different today. For some strange reason these are the thoughts that go through my head on a cloudy afternoon in March. I need to get some sleep before I go to work.
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