grim june anniversaries of a woman with a past (a growing past)

June, June, a month of days I want to forget:

1942
June 1 — my mother marries my father, from whom she has been divorced for 59 years. Since my birth, he has denied my existence and ignored me almost entirely.

1970
June 20th — anniversary of my first marriage

1981
June 14th — I meet my second husband.

1986
June 20-somethingth. My aunt has a family birthday for her father, my paternal grandfather. That occasion was the last time I saw my father — when, as I approached him to embrace him, forgiving all, he turned his back to me.

He’s still alive at 91.

2007
June 26th — I meet Performer.

2008
June 13th — six months since the last night spent with Performer, the night he referred to with warmth in a sexually charged email message sent to me as he and his ex-wife were on their way to tell their therapist they were getting back together.

2008
June 16th — six months to the day that Performer told me he was going back to his ex-wife (or, to be more accurate, had gone back to her).

2008
June 16/17 — long talk with Plan C about all the changes I’ve noted in him recently, i.e. in his relationship to me.

Not good.

It left me wondering not ‘if’ but ‘when’….

It’s not another woman, except that in part it’s W, his late wife. During the conversation (over the phone, late at night), he vacillated wildly between anger and apology, inarticulate silences and attempts to say what he felt. In brief: he misses his ‘life’ in the little town where he lives. As he said, ‘I don’t know that I want to spend 40 weekends a year in New York.’ In summer, especially, he misses golfing on Saturday as well as Sunday (he has been leaving at 1:20 on Sundays to golf in the afternoon). He says he is ‘in turmoil,’ meaning about his life and about my place in it. He loves his little town and wants to live there for the rest of his life and die there. I offered all sorts of adjustments, i.e. more summer weekends at his house, but it’s not clear that they would solve the problem. He also opined that he may be ‘too old’ (66) to ‘change his ways,’ i.e. not to lead his life the way he has been living it in his little town….’I'm finding that I’m not as flexible in adapting to this, and these problems are exacerbated by the distance and visiting.’

He was full of apologies for all the above, as he was talking. When I asked if there was no longer a lifetime commitment, he answered, ‘I can’t say the things you want.’

I reminded him of some of the things he had said in February and March, and he said, ‘Jesus Mimi I said those things and I did mean them.’

MIMI: Do you no longer think I’m your beshert? [a word I learned from him].
PLAN C: I’m trying to find out if you still are.

He has been discussing this ‘turmoil’ with his therapist. Whether it’s still continuing mourning (it’s not yet 3 years since W died; that was in August), the stress of coming to New York many (but not all) weekends, the absence of Saturday golf in his weekend and the disruption of his customary summer weekend customs, I don’t know. All of the above, probably.

I had asked him Saturday morning if he had discussed W with his therapist, and he said no, which surprised me. I’ve long believed that until he gets that relationship stabilized, and it is highly unstable, ours will be unstable also.

* * *
Many little things brought these new and uncertain feelings of Plan C’s to light, among them my question yesterday about what name to fill in on a form that asked for ‘person to be notified in case of accident or emergency.’ I asked him (over email) if that was he, and if something happened to me, ‘wouldn’t you want to know pretty quickly?’ I was thinking of the sentence in his profile where he said he was looking for ’someone to watch over and to watch over me.’

‘Oh, that was just because I liked the sound of the phrase,’ he said. He advised me to list my daughters, as he would list his sons, because ‘there are legal niceties involved in these things and it is meant to be and should be kin.’

But ‘it does not say “next of kin,”‘ I wrote him.

He wrote back, ‘I dont know. You asked what I thought so I told you what I would do.’

* * *

That exchange was important to me. If I had been asked the same question, I would have felt that I wanted to know first of anyone if something terrible had happened to Plan C, and nothing would stop me from rushing to the ER. I want a man who feels the same way about me, a man who wants his name in that line on the form.

* * *
Had an emergency meeting today with my wonderful psychiatrist, RS (‘Rolly’s shrink’), who was more helpful than I can say. I took notes on everything he said for an hour (yes, he gave me an hour).

Among other things, he said, ‘If his head is on straight, he’s going to be contented with someone like you. I don’t believe he’s going to find someone with all your qualities. A person like you is hard to come by.’ He said I was ‘highly eligible as a life companion.’ More along those lines: ‘you’re more than a match for him.’

Of the issue of distance and commuting, RS said, ‘I don’t believe that’s the crux of the matter: if two people are in love, amor vincit omnia. His exacerbation may be a rationalization.’ He also said, ‘It’s not between you and him. It’s between him and himself.’

We also discussed the somewhat hysterical alternation of guilt and idealizing in Plan C’s attitude to his late wife.

RS was also impatient with and critical of Plan C’s need for Saturday golf in the summer and his requirement of complete silence while he reads the newspaper every morning. Actually neither of those idiosyncrasies (if that’s the word…) bothers me, or at least, to me they aren’t deal-breakers. I can understand his need for golf, which definitely calms him; and Plan C (if this hasn’t become clear yet) needs calming. And I’ve been working on maintaining the newspaper silence, which I did note that he is allowed to break. I called him on that Sunday morning.
* * *
But RS also said he didn’t ‘want to see your heart broken prematurely by a man who may not break your heart in the end.’ He tried to remember a Latin proverb which I remembered and said: Festina lente — make haste slowly, my favorite proverb. He thought the relationship was ‘tenuous’ but by no means over.

Nevertheless, RS’s response to all I said about Plan C — and this was the first session we devoted entirely to him, because Plan C has not been much of a problem till recently — gives me pause. I have that sad sinking feeling you have when you discover someone you thought loves you absolutely doesn’t, but also a tough, businesslike confidence that I can find someone else. In short, I’m not entirely sure what to think, but I’m feeling strong anyway and carrying on with chores (but where on earth can I get a TravelMoney card in Manhattan?? anyone know?).

At any rate, our European trip (business for me, golf and touring for him) is still on, beginning next week. Of this, RS said, ‘If it goes poorly in [European country], then it’s over. But if it goes well, then you can’t tell. It’s not determined.’

* * *

Plan C’s email this morning:

Mimi, Darling girl, and you are, you are, good morning.
I am tested and sorry to be such a test to you.
My love to you,
Plan C

(‘Tested’ refers to his cholesterol test.) Not sure how to read ‘My love to you’ — before last night’s conversation, I would have read it as signifying the same love he declared in February. Now I don’t know.

Better not to answer that email, or the three others he sent later in the day. Plan C needs (to use a word he used this weekend and last night) SPACE.

* * *
He told me last night that when he first met me I seemed ‘whacky, zany, and independent,’ but now I seemed ‘needy.’ I came right back with a denial of that word: I’m not needy, I said. I need an appropriate amount of love, and you’re withdrawing yours and I’m calling you on that. That’s not needy.

* * *
Just when you thought this blog was getting boring — another twist in the plot!

I must be living my life to entertain … or to edify you.

* * *

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