Larger than Life...

Shadows

It had been a painful year, my mother-in-law had passed away in February, a creature that no one could understand but me. I saw her emptiness, her pain; the anger that drove many away, the scarceness of the mind and soul that forever retained her confided at home.

Only a sad heart knows another, and I made sure she felt loved in every embrace, in every unwelcome gesture that she futilely refused but learned to treasure until the very end. And as her last breath faded away, the fate of my marriage was also entombed.

For my marriage had not been an easy one, for that same angered, full of pain and anxious woman, was the mother my spouse had to endure during childhood, and it created a fiend.
    
And as the neediness of my caring for his dying mother dissipated, the brutal disposition of the savaged returned. For a narcissist does not understand gratitude or kindness, they take and brake as they encounter. I had been broken early on, not a month went by after my marriage, when he reached for my neck, and it was not to caress. The dreams of youth broken, the vows unshaken, as the Catholic rites pended on me, the same way a rosary settled on my breasts and life continued.

Even on infertile ground flowers blossom, trees unfurl, and the survivor succeeds. The encircled glass, green room in my house had become my favorite place to live; and at night when no one listened, I cried. And as the tears fell, also the years kept piling up, the arguments, the emotional abuse, the constant disrespect, the feeling of hopelessness and loss, the endless war zone that was my home; it all became familiar until it ended. I became numb, and I thrived. And as the family business grew, it became my escape, my sole companion, my only joy. The oil business was rich and so were we. I was young, ambitious, unloved and married; and then Juan became sick.

I had been married for ten years, when Juan's cancer was diagnosed. He had been living in DC for more than a decade. I was in the family business main office when Juan called; pancreatic cancer stage four, I almost dropped the phone, but instead remain calm and made plans to travel.

"Can you just for once do as I say?" His voice was increasing in tempo, and I knew a big storm was pending on the horizon. As always, I tried to play aloof and calm, as I had already learned that going against his reasoning always ended up badly.
"No, this time is for Juan, and I will go help him, no matter what you say." His need to control my every move made him irritable and impatient. For the first time since we had been married I was traveling alone.

"Do you think you can take off any time you please? You'll do as I say. Juan can hire himself a caretaker."
"Juan is sick, he needs his family around him. I already bought the airplane ticket. I leave tomorrow in the afternoon, Jet Blue direct flight to Ronald Reagan Airport."
     I kept talking to him with my back turned, heading for the door to conclude the argument, and as I reached the door, a crystal vase thrown in full force smashed against it. I looked back, my husband's face was flustered with anger. "Sleeping with the enemy" was the name Juan and I used secretly between us, whenever he referred to my husband.

I went home packed, made phone calls and concluded the necessary arrangements needed for me to travel the next day. I was still shocked with the crude diagnosis but hope and faith had always been my strength in the worst of times, and I clung to them like a shipwreck survivor clinging to the sinking ship, knowing where it might end, but still clinging to hope and faith.

The next day I arrived at night by Uber to Juan's house. I wanted to surprise him, and surprised he was, when he opened the door and saw me standing on his doorstep. His eyes filled with tears, I had never seen Juan cry before. I was totally disarmed and heartbroken. I immediately knew he was afraid. Although older than me, he constantly sought my advice in mostly all his affairs. We embraced, went inside and the universe plan started to unfold.

It was March, I stayed for three weeks and returned home. Juan had started his chemo treatments, he was doing fairly well and we were happy about that. He was still full of energy and as long as he wouldn't eat too much before going to bed, his pancreas worked along with the pills he was taking to aid its performance. With a heavy heart I left Juan with my mother, who had come on the onset of my departure.

Shadows seem to cover the bright sun that shined that morning, and shadows covered my return home. I was given the silent treatment by my husband, and I was relief for that. I threw myself into work just as I always had done.

"Your eyes look sad." said Migdalia, my faithful employee and friend, in charge of administering my agenda.
"I am sad. Is like there is a big dark cloud engulfing my spirit nowadays." I adjusted my earphones and kept working on my laptop. Work meant no time for thinking, and it had always been my lifesaver.

When the days are cold
And the clouds all fold
And the saints we see are all made of gold
When your dreams all fail
And the ones we hail
Are the worst of all, and the blood's run stale

When you feel my heat, look into my eyes
It's where my demons hide
It's where my demons hide
Don't get to close, it's dark inside
It's where my demons hide
It's where my demons hide
-Demons, Imagine Dragons-