My bedroom is sage. Restful. Peaceful. Serene. Well, we’d like to think it is anyway. The gray winter haze woke me about 7:30. I never sleep this late. I’m usually an early riser. I didn’t want to do today. I wanted to skip right over til Monday. I feel as if my course has been interrupted. The course of my healing has been merely a remission. Had Tammy been talking to Goose? Did she know something I didn’t know? Why am I the last to know what’s happening in my life? On the path of life it seems I’m heading into the loop de loop. (I hate those! I hate turning upside down!) It’s a good thing I have to go potty, or I’d stay in bed all day. But body functions being what they are… I got up and faced the day.
I made the coffee and got my bath. I know from Goose’s scheduled existence that this morning, he’s sitting on his computer going over emails. Reading the paper. Then he’ll go do his volunteer work in the afternoon. And his weeks’ laundry in the evening. I can smell the Downy fabric softener on his white t-shirts. I poured another cup of coffee and sat at my desk. I opened my cell phone to the lingering text message. It’s waiting for a response. It’s time..
“Goose, I appreciate you letting me know, but anything that I’ve left behind you can throw away.”
Within a minute, he responded.
“I owe you some money.”
“Goose you have been very generous with me, really I don’t think you need to worry about it.”
I was shopping one day and he’d asked me to pick up a throw rug for the kitchen doorway. It wasn’t expensive and there was no need to worry about it. I know he wants me to come there. And I know I’m not strong enough to manage seeing him without melting. The few dollars was not worth what seeing him would cost me emotionally. But Goose kept insisting that he had to give me those things. With each plea I lost just a little bit more stamina.
“I will be driving to Burnsville today, so if you put the things in a bag and hang it on the garage door, I can stop by and pick it up.”
He thought he had gotten me to see him. He hadn’t.
“I will be gone from noon til 4:00.”
I have no intention of seeing him.. I’m just not strong enough to face him. I also wasn’t going to Burnsville, but I didn’t want him coming here. I waited til noon and then I drove to Goose’s house. I know by the time I arrive, that he’ll be gone. I stopped by the gas station, filled up my car and got a soda. It’s gonna be a hard thing to go there again. I need the bubbles in a glass. I felt the tension in my shoulders as I drove north on I-35. Right past Hope Minnesota. I keep thinking I should go to Hope Minnesota. Afterall, what could it hurt? The road is much longer than 90 miles today. It seems to be going on and on forever. I turn east for a while and then north again.. and east and north one last time onto his country black top. My stomach is in knots as I inch closer and closer to his driveway. I tried to breathe but there is not one breath of air left in the car. Squinting through the gray winter haze, I can see no bag hanging on the garage door knob. Ugh! Quick! A decision is needed. Drive on past or pull in the driveway? Think! Turn in.
I pulled into the driveway. The three wagging dogs met my car. Already the tears are stinging my eyes. I open the car door and sniffs and licks pulled me into the air. They must have been trying to revive me. I walked inside the garage. Goose’s car was not there. Knowing I don’t belong here now, I knock on the kitchen door. (The dogs look at me like I’ve lost my mind. I’m hoping they’ll find it in the spring thaw.) No answer. I put my hand on the doorknob and turned it. It opened and I walked inside. The kitchen has no light on. No warmth to greet me today. I looked to the kitchen window and the view had remained the same but that large white plastic garbage bag.. that doesn’t go there. I look inside… ahh, my things. A dvd, a bar of Caress bath soap, and a pillow I had taken there. And a $15 check for the rug. Not much air in the house either. I walked into the livingroom and stood by his recliner. I passed my hand along the arm of his chair and looked at the now dark computer screen. (He’d made a mistake the last time I was here. And he didn’t know how to fix it. He broke my faith in him.) I walked down the quiet hallway and into the bedroom. Standing next to the bed, I placed my hand on his pillow and told him I love him. Tears ran down my face as I turned and picked up the bag. I said goodbye as I walked out the kitchen door. One by one, the dogs came and hugged me goodbye. I tossed the bag in the back seat and started the car. This time I drove south and west and south and west til I got home. The veiled sun was slipping behind a snow drift as I arrived back home.
I hung my black leather jacket in the closet and walked back into my sage bedroom. I remembered Tammy’s statement…
“I just don’t think it’s done yet.”
I laid on the bed hoping for some of that peace and serenity.
“Its done now.”