“It’s gonna be another doozy,” Ben said. “You can take that to the bank.”
“You say that every year,” Anne said.
They were out walking on January 1st. Her mouth was dry, there was a sharp, localized pain in the front right of her head, her stomach was in very poor shape.
“Boy do I need coffee,” Ben said.
“Isn’t that what we’re doing?” said Anne. “Going out to get coffee.”
“Well good,” he said. “Because I need some.”
They walked across two blocks in silence. Anne slowed down half a pace and Ben began to pull ahead.
“I don’t want to do this anymore,” Anne said.
“Go back,” Ben said. “I’ll bring back coffee. I don’t mind.”
She’d meant the relationship, she didn’t want to do it anymore. She’d had enough of Ben and his truisms and his chippery attitude. For a whole year she’d thought about this, and she’d finally built up the courage to say it. But she thought about the options in front of her. Begin the heart wrenching process of a breakup, now, with this headache and bad stomach and dry mouth, untold amounts of weeping, searching for a new place to live, guilt, regret. Or go along with his misunderstanding, back to the apartment, to Netflix, coffee delivered and let’s be honest probably pastries too, complacency. She wished that his offer made her remember why she loved him, because of his sweet, considerate offers like these, but the truth is that if anything it made her less inclined to love him, she saw it as a softness, weakness really, but that didn’t change the material effect that this decision would have on the rest of her day.
“Thanks,” she said. She walked back to the apartment and lay down on the couch.
It is January. I grab a random magazine lying next to me. I read a text from the dating page to my mom, who is sitting next to me on a long train ride. I read it to her just for fun. She seems vaguely interested in one of the men but laughs it away. I am too old for this, she says. Later that day I decide to write that man an email. After all, the new year has just started and why not try something unexpected. My mom has been alone for a very long time. The man replies quickly. He is intrigued that a daughter would do this for her mother, he would like to get in contact. I decide to give him my moms mail address so that he can get in touch. It is February. She calls me. She wants to say thank you, they have been talking almost every day and decided to meet up. She is very excited. It is March. They are madly in love and want to get married. I am very irritated by this. Isn’t this too soon? Aren’t you too old for this, mom? I have nothing left to lose, she says. The first time I meet him in person is at the wedding. He is handsome, friendly and polite and hugs me like an old missed family member. I am the maid of honour. It is May. My mom moves in with her husband. He lives three hours from our home town. She moves out of the flat, my childhood flat. I will never step foot in that city again, I have no reason anymore. I am sad, but it is what it is. They live in a big house now. One day my mom calls me. He had a stroke and is in the hospital. I take the next train to be by her side, but by the time I arrive, he has already passed. My mom is devastated. She owns a house now. She never had money in her life. Her husband did not have children. She inherits everything. She does not want to live in that house anymore. She wants to move to the town where I live now. I don’t want that, but she is a widow now and is grieving, so what can I do. She rents a flat near my boyfriend and I. She visits every day. It is September. I can’t take this any longer. You have to tell her to give us some space, my boyfriend says. But I can’t tell her that. I avoid conflict, it’s been like that my whole life. It is October. My boyfriend leaves me. It’s not because of your mom, he says. I just don’t love you anymore. My mom and I team up in our grief. This is not how I imagined this year. We need to clear out and sell the house of her late husband. Finally, she is ready. It is November. It has rained for days. As I remove a framed picture from the wall in one of the rooms, I suddenly see a safe. My mom finds the key shortly after in one of the drawers. We both stare into the safe. Never in my life would I have expected that THIS would be in there. I faint. I know that my life will change forever now. There is no going back from this, I know that. It is December.
“It’s gonna be another doozy,” Ben said. “You can take that to the bank.”
“You say that every year,” Anne said.
They were out walking on January 1st. Her mouth was dry, there was a sharp, localized pain in the front right of her head, her stomach was in very poor shape.
“Boy do I need coffee,” Ben said.
“Isn’t that what we’re doing?” said Anne. “Going out to get coffee.”
“Well good,” he said. “Because I need some.”
They walked across two blocks in silence. Anne slowed down half a pace and Ben began to pull ahead.
“I don’t want to do this anymore,” Anne said.
“Go back,” Ben said. “I’ll bring back coffee. I don’t mind.”
She’d meant the relationship, she didn’t want to do it anymore. She’d had enough of Ben and his truisms and his chippery attitude. For a whole year she’d thought about this, and she’d finally built up the courage to say it. But she thought about the options in front of her. Begin the heart wrenching process of a breakup, now, with this headache and bad stomach and dry mouth, untold amounts of weeping, searching for a new place to live, guilt, regret. Or go along with his misunderstanding, back to the apartment, to Netflix, coffee delivered and let’s be honest probably pastries too, complacency. She wished that his offer made her remember why she loved him, because of his sweet, considerate offers like these, but the truth is that if anything it made her less inclined to love him, she saw it as a softness, weakness really, but that didn’t change the material effect that this decision would have on the rest of her day.
“Thanks,” she said. She walked back to the apartment and lay down on the couch.
It is January. I grab a random magazine lying next to me. I read a text from the dating page to my mom, who is sitting next to me on a long train ride. I read it to her just for fun. She seems vaguely interested in one of the men but laughs it away. I am too old for this, she says. Later that day I decide to write that man an email. After all, the new year has just started and why not try something unexpected. My mom has been alone for a very long time. The man replies quickly. He is intrigued that a daughter would do this for her mother, he would like to get in contact. I decide to give him my moms mail address so that he can get in touch. It is February. She calls me. She wants to say thank you, they have been talking almost every day and decided to meet up. She is very excited. It is March. They are madly in love and want to get married. I am very irritated by this. Isn’t this too soon? Aren’t you too old for this, mom? I have nothing left to lose, she says. The first time I meet him in person is at the wedding. He is handsome, friendly and polite and hugs me like an old missed family member. I am the maid of honour. It is May. My mom moves in with her husband. He lives three hours from our home town. She moves out of the flat, my childhood flat. I will never step foot in that city again, I have no reason anymore. I am sad, but it is what it is. They live in a big house now. One day my mom calls me. He had a stroke and is in the hospital. I take the next train to be by her side, but by the time I arrive, he has already passed. My mom is devastated. She owns a house now. She never had money in her life. Her husband did not have children. She inherits everything. She does not want to live in that house anymore. She wants to move to the town where I live now. I don’t want that, but she is a widow now and is grieving, so what can I do. She rents a flat near my boyfriend and I. She visits every day. It is September. I can’t take this any longer. You have to tell her to give us some space, my boyfriend says. But I can’t tell her that. I avoid conflict, it’s been like that my whole life. It is October. My boyfriend leaves me. It’s not because of your mom, he says. I just don’t love you anymore. My mom and I team up in our grief. This is not how I imagined this year. We need to clear out and sell the house of her late husband. Finally, she is ready. It is November. It has rained for days. As I remove a framed picture from the wall in one of the rooms, I suddenly see a safe. My mom finds the key shortly after in one of the drawers. We both stare into the safe. Never in my life would I have expected that THIS would be in there. I faint. I know that my life will change forever now. There is no going back from this, I know that. It is December.