Splendid Ignorance

2011

Now, many years later my wife was once again in the dark. But now, I couldn't speak to her like I should have nine years ago in our living room. So I sat in the chapel and for the first time realized the faint light that glowed behind the mock stained glass reminded me of the shadowy light of my life on the night I fell asleep on the phone and called out my first love's name in front of my wife. A mockery.

For the first time, in a long time, I began to cry. It began on the surface. Mere sadness. Then I felt a building and outpouring of sobs from within me. I felt sick. I felt shame. I reeked of guilt. Sorrow? It was not because of where my wife was and what our family was going through. Sorrow? No. At least not true sorrow. There was no turning from wrong to right. Sorry? That was closer. It was because of the path I had decided to take after I left the chapel.

It was raining when I left the hospital. If it would not have been raining the morning sun would have been starting to rise over a new day. Perhaps, the rain helped me to be stubborn with the path I had chosen?

The phone number had not changed in nine years although this time the greeting was different. The name was the same though. I tried to convince myself that if the name had changed I could have hung up. I did not know if that was true or not? Regardless, I continued to listen to the message until I heard the beep signaling that I could speak and leave my message.

"Hello. Darcey...you know who this is, I'm sure. If you'd like to meet and talk, I will be at the pavilion at Mason's Park at five o'clock each night this week. I hope to see you there." I hung up and I drove home.

Coming into our home was like walking into a tomb. I couldn't remember the last time I had slept there. It was haunted by memories of Flora. She was the queen of the house and her absence, especially knowing where she was, made it seem more like a shrine than a place to live. It made me shudder and cry. Especially, when my eyes fell upon our wedding picture that hung on the wall over the fireplace. They were not deep sobs, like before, but I believe they were real. Sorrow? No. Sorry? I wanted to convince myself that it was at least me being sorry.

I stared at the picture. We stood with a beautiful lake behind us. We were twenty years younger. She was slightly in front of me, in her beautiful white dress. I was slightly to her left with my arms around her. I remembered holding her on that warm late summer day. I remember watching the photographer give directions. I listened. I followed them. I remember smelling the scent of her hair and between poses, right before this picture was taken, I nuzzled behind her ear and smelled the fresh fragrance of her perfume.

At the park I sat in the car as the rain fell. I was actually not thinking of Darcey. I couldn't get my wedding day out of my mind. After our pictures in the park we had driven out to her Mom's house and we went through our gifts. It was such a gentle time. Simple things given to a couple in hopes that they would help them to forge on ahead in a life together.

The rain had stopped. Darcey did not show up. I went back to the hospital. Back to the chapel.

The following few days were spent at the park. It was nice outside and I'd walk the trails during the day and then wait in the parking lot, sitting in my car, in the afternoon and into the evening with no sign of Darcey. As the light ebbed away into darkness, I'd return to the hospital, silently visit with my wife's form and then sit alone and silent in the chapel.

My thoughts were jumbled. I began to think of Darcey as if from a distance. In the past, I held her memory before me like an idol and I served it. However, the more times that I walked in the solitude of the park and saw the trees move her idol faded. I remembered how Flora loved walks. We had often walked these trails. She loved seeing woodpeckers and hummingbirds. I remembered this on the evening of the fifth day as I watched a small downy woodpecker moving up the trunk of a tree, its head bobbing and darting as it hunted, pecking occasionally before moving higher and then flying to another tree to repeat its search. It never went back to a tree it had left. It moved forward.