From my Casper The Unholy Ghost Collection written in 2014
One Down, One To Go — Check!
Before his jail-break departure, my runaway husband held two jobs — he was the IT systems administrator for two different multi-million dollar corporations.
On D-Day, as he was in the process of dragging his things to the getaway car, he was muttering under his breath — something about a ‘commitment’ he’d made to one of his employers.
He was the sole critical technical resource for both organizations — one retail, one medical (the practice I managed.)
He’d agreed to give a 2-month notice at the retail company not to leave them in the lurch.
He was talking to himself, lamenting how (now that he’d done the deed and gotten me out of the way) — he was now going to have to stay in town long enough to ‘honor’ his two-month ‘commitment.’
Interesting. The words honor and commitment … in the same sentence? … and both uttered by his lips? But then, they’re both such fluid concepts these days, don’t you think?
Softly, The Bee Gees Croon ‘He A’int a Sociopath, He’s My Brother’
As things played out in the successive weeks, it became apparent that there was nothing remotely noble underlying his decision to stay in town.
He stayed around because he had to — you see, the Visa he’d applied for had not been processed and received. [Wait? What Visa? I had no idea that he’d even applied for a Visa!]
Oh, how thrilling the duplicity and suspense must have been for him as he donned his sunglasses and pulled the collar up on his black trench coat to slink out and check the mailbox each day. Once his Visa arrived in the mail, he’d then be free to bolt like a racehorse from the starting gate — and leave the U.S. with her.
Later I would learn that Casper’s younger brother (a former Marine like my departing ex) had been fully aware of my husband’s pending plans and was his willing accomplice.
Yes, much to my disappointment, my dear Brother-In-Law had agreed to let Hubs use his permanent home address to apply for his Visa.
Blood’s Thicker Than Water
I learned of this fact some two years later.
I would have expected a good brother to speak up and say something like this to a sibling about to careen off the rails: “You know Bubba, you’ve been married to this woman for 29 years. She’s been good to you. Don’t you think you owe it to her to at least tell her what’s going on before you just up and disappear?”
Especially since Dear Brother-In-Law had also served Uncle Sam in The Marine Corps and supposedly had learned about ‘Semper Fidelis.’
But no, character deficit must be genetic.
I can only surmise that Dear Brother-In-Law [like Dear Father-In-Law, the good Baptist Sunday school teacher] who told his wife she was not allowed to talk to me — was afraid of ‘taking sides.’
Never mind that it would have been the right thing to do.
Please note that I only talk about the WAY he planned on leaving when referring to right and wrong. If Runaway Romeo wanted a divorce, all he had to do was say so. Who in their right mind would want to stay with someone who doesn’t want them? Not me.
Correlation Or Causation?
Wow … honor and commitment … right and wrong … and accountability — a cornucopia of fluid concepts!
To end with a bit of humor here, I suppose this ordeal is partially my fault. Had I chosen Physics rather than Nursing in college, I guess I would have been up on Fluid Mechanics now, wouldn’t I? LOL
~Sometimes you just gotta laugh.
