Melting Away, Slowly... Pt. 05

"It got to a point where I wondered if I had some medical condition that was giving me B.O., or bad breath, and I had the doctors check me out. They said I was normal, no worse than any other guy my age. Based on that, I assume that whatever your mother finds repugnant about me isn't any sort of physical condition on my part.

"She insists to this day that there is nothing wrong for a couple of people in their mid-50's to be married, and not so much as touch each other!" I said, rather emphatically, getting worked up just thinking about the unfairness of the situation.

Dan and Josh looked at each other a little sheepishly. Then Josh spoke,

"Dad, this is really weird, because when we were all together for Christmas, Dan and I had a discussion about this very subject,"

"Your mom's and my sex life?" I gasped, taken aback.

The boys smiled.

"No, not that. Just, when we were talking, we realized that when we were growing up, both of us had noticed independently, but never communicated to each other, that mom didn't seem to be able to empathize with anyone else's point of view," he stated.

Dan continued the thought,

"If we tried to explain our position or point of view on a subject — anything from politics to going steady with a girl, if mom disagreed, there was nothing you could say that would get her to understand the way you saw things. She sees things from her perspective. Period."

Surprising just how perceptive my boys were.

"Dad, are you really going through with the divorce?" Josh inquired, hitting my conundrum on the head.

"It would be really nice if my moving out and putting the papers together for a divorce would shock your mother to her senses, to the extent where she would seek outside help. But as you've both pointed out, I don't expect it to happen," I replied.

We all sat there silently for a minute.

"You know," I reflected, "I've thought about something quite a lot this past week.

"When I look back on the early days of your mother's and my relationship, I wonder now if the signs weren't already there. When I would come up to her at a party or church gathering and put my arm around her, or kiss her, I could tell that she was a little uncomfortable.

"I always thought that it was just that she was modest, and didn't like public displays of affection. But now my thinking is that your mom has never really liked to have anyone touch her, and that she just put up with it for the sake of having a family, and while you were growing up.

"Once you boys were out of the house, she had achieved her goals, and didn't perceive a need to put up with me touching her anymore."

Josh and Don were nodding at me now, as if they also remembered similar instances.

"Maybe I was just too thick to see that your mother and I had a basic incompatibility from the beginning; I wanted close physical contact and intimacy, while she didn't. I mean, it's not her fault, it's probably just the way she is put together emotionally," I speculated.

"But she was always a great mother to you, and she's a wonderful grandmother to your kids," I reiterated.

"Dad," Dan asked, "Do you still love mom?"

"I don't know, son," I honestly replied, "I respect and admire her for her good qualities, but right now, she and I have grown so far apart on an emotional level, that I have a hard time sorting out my feelings about her. Maybe after some time has passed, when I'm able to look at things more objectively, I will be able to answer that question."

Dan and Josh left shortly afterwards, but we had all hugged, and they assured me that they were not assigning blame on the split between their mother and me. We were both their parents, and they would honor both of us, and not take sides, or make judgments on what they could clearly see was a complex situation.

Monday afternoon I was the one who was surprised.

Martha called me at school during one of my breaks between classes.

"Mark, I went and consulted with a lawyer this morning about the divorce. He said that you had actually offered a very generous division of our assets — you weren't using cash to offset my jewelry (your tools don't approach my jewelry in value), and he told me that due to my higher earnings now that I've been promoted, if our divorce went to court, I might find myself paying for your expenses and maybe even alimony!" she informed me.

"I have no desire to hurt you financially, Martha," I reiterated.

"But Mark, I don't want a divorce. I want you to move back into our house," came the low voice over the phone.

"Martha, we don't have to put the divorce through right away, but unless you can find some way to get past this antipathy towards physical contact with me, there's no purpose in my continuing to punish myself. So a period of separation should let you consider whether you want to make the effort to change, or not," I insisted, not willing to be suckered into returning to an old behavior arrangement that I found repugnant.

"What does that mean, Mark?" she asked.

"Sign the papers and send them to me, and I'll hold them until you and I talk again," I explained, "If you are really trying to change, we may be able to try again."

She sent me the signed papers, and as I promised, I put them away.

We did split the more liquid financial assets into two, and separated them into two accounts, so that we could each be responsible for our half of the holdings. The main issue to be resolved would be selling the house, if it came to that.

On this sphere of matter floating in the universe, regardless of our troubles, life goes on.

Over the next several months, I was back in my routine.

I taught my classes, until the end of the semester.

I continued to take the dance class at school, and after the semester ended, I signed up (as did Stephanie) at Bob's school for classes held there.

Stephanie and I remained an item. Most of the time, if we were staying together for the night, we would go to her place. I was still keeping my condo pristine of evidence of another woman, just in case. But Stephanie was doing her best to keep me out of the hands of other horny divorcees and widows. Doing a damn fine job of it too!

There were several occasions when I met Martha for dinner at restaurants, and a couple of times, I had her over to the condo when we needed to discuss 'business' issues.

But after three months, when Martha and I got together again for dinner one evening, she confessed that she hadn't done anything or seen anyone regarding her lack of desire for physical intimacy. She was too busy at work; she didn't think it was really necessary; why couldn't I just accept her the way she was, etc.

The next business day following that discussion, I filed the divorce papers, and the countdown started.

At that point, I insisted that we list the house for sale. Again Martha resisted at first, but she finally realized that it was inevitable.

We were actually lucky in our timing. It turned out, looking in retrospect, that while the actual 'peak' of the real estate market had passed, the problems with the housing market hadn't become obvious to everyone, and we sold our house for the asking price, and the buyers were able to get a loan without any significant delays.

In less than 90 days, the house had passed into other hands, and we split the money from the sale.

That meant that Martha and I had to face up to the task, unpleasant as it was, of going through old family photos, our wedding albums, books and other personal possessions from around the house, and divide them between us. Most of the time, it was clear and simple, who should get what. In other cases, like some of the photos, I agreed to take them and duplicate a set for Martha, since I had the equipment for doing that.

It was still a time consuming process, and we had to do it jointly, something that I think Martha actually welcomed, as it threw us together for days at a time. I, on the other hand, dreaded it, since it forced me back into close contact with Martha, which just depressed me.

Maybe I had simply moved on emotionally.

Martha had also purchased a condo with her half of the sales price of the house, and the boys and I moved her into her new place. I was trying to at least keep our relationship on a friendly basis. She took whatever furniture she wanted from our house, and we sold or gave the rest away to charity.

She thanked us when we were done, and gave Don and Josh both brief hugs, before we said goodbye.

When the lease ran out on the condo in which I was living, I finally took Stephanie up on her offer, and moved in with her. After a more than a year we were still as close as we had ever been. After my experience with Martha, I was afraid to pronounce myself 'in love; with Steph, but if it wasn't love, it was a close substitute.

Stephanie made no bones about being in love with me. But we hadn't run out and gotten married, or anything.

"Steph, do you ever think of John and feel guilt about 'living in sin' with me?" I asked her one evening.

She shook her head,

"No, I think that John would be pleased that we are together. I was desperately in love with him, and I'll always love and honor his memory. But, you know, he admired you greatly, and I think that if he were able to advise me, he would have told me that you would be a fine catch. He wanted me to be happy."

She turned the tables on me.

"What about Martha, Mark?" she asked.

I nodded at her question.

"Yes, I feel an irrational guilt about the entire situation; but I don't regret leaving her to be with you," I answered.

"In a way, I will always have a love for Martha, but I had to draw away from her emotionally, or else be miserable for the rest of my life," I added, sliding over and pulling her close enough to kiss and hug.

"And you've made me happy in a way that I would have never believed possible a year ago," I assured her.

Eventually my sons, who had known Stephanie and John before his death, became aware of my relationship. It was clear that their mother had found out one way or another. And that led to several interesting conversations.

"You know, Dad," Dan told me one afternoon, "Mom is still very bitter about the divorce.

"She was especially offended when she discovered that it was Stephanie with whom you were living."

I raised my eyebrows and shrugged my shoulders. It was hardly an unsurprising reaction.

Josh added,

"The weird thing is that it's almost as if she could understand if you were with a younger woman, because then she could say 'after all, how can I compete with a woman whose body is 15-years younger than mine.' But Stephanie is about the same age as mom, so she's at a loss to explain why you would leave her to go off with another woman the same age."

"It isn't Stephanie's age, it's her attitude that's different than your mom's," I agreed, "Stephanie and I just 'fit' together better than your mom and me — at least the way that your mother is now."

Gradually, the family accepted Stephanie, and the fact that she, not Martha, was my 'significant other' as they say. On occasion we would be at family gatherings that included Martha, and to Martha's great credit I will say, she was always civil, if not warm, towards Stephanie.

No surprise, but soon even my boys and their families would hug and kiss Steph when we arrived or left these gatherings. She was just so outgoing, and exuded good will and love towards them all, and she and John had never had children themselves. And I appreciated their willingness to accept the woman who had made my life worth living again.

Martha didn't date much, and I guess from what the kids said, one time was enough for most of the men. She remained an attractive woman (at least to my eyes), but not many men will waste their time on a woman who demonstrates no reciprocal physical attraction to them.

After the divorce, I made it clear to Martha that if she had any 'emergency' fixes that she needed done at her new condo, I would take care of them for her. There have been a couple — a burst line on a dishwasher and some small electrical problems, but nothing large. Stephanie knows and approves of my 'taking care' of Martha; she understands the issues of living alone for women.

Honestly, I think that Martha is fairly happy living by herself. She always tells me that she would have preferred that we not divorce, but she has still never indicated the slightest desire to change her behavior. So, I guess that her 'revealed preference', as economists say when they mean, 'it isn't what you say, but what you do that is important', is to be left alone.

Because Martha would never seek any outside advice or analysis, I doubt that she will ever understand 'why' she cut me off from the physical intimacies; and consequently, she will never understand how the emotional ties between two people can just fade away, if a couple isn't always working to keep them fresh and solid.

I am happy. Stephanie doesn't put any pressure on me to get married, but one of these days we may. Right now I think that she is letting me have some time to be sure that I'm over Martha, and to convince myself that getting married again won't have similar results to my first marriage.

We live a satisfying life — we spend time with friends, we do all sorts of activities together, we've done a little travel, and are getting ready to take a big trip to the U.K. I've never been to London before, so I look forward to it.

We may run over to Paris while we're there. I understand that it's only a little over two-hours ride on the high-speed train, and I've always wanted to travel through the 'Chunnel' that runs beneath the English Channel! A great piece of engineering.

And we dance together.

Tonight we are going out to a club where the beat is Latin, so we can try out our Cha-chas, Rumbas, and Salsa steps.

Oops, its getting late and I've got to catch up with Stephanie. It takes two to tango, you know!

The End