Ravings for Remedies

In the last grey chill of winter dusk, I ponder how I became sensitive, given that it was not a family heirloom passed down genetically.  My siblings are all efficient go-getters by nature, hard workers to the degree of excellence, their resolve concrete and moods not ’subject to change without notice.’  I seem to automatically live by cause and effect and never really take to a situation without at least some consideration of the possibilities of each choice.  Though I must say, that this is not the only use.  It also allows a great deal of analyticality, to monitor body language and the true meaning behind the words that others say in a certain context and manner.

How then, do I find a expressionless mother completely overlook the tear-filled eyes of my wife without so much as an inkling of investigation into the state she obviously and quite literally is pouring out onto the patio bricks?  We needed to get away, if only for an hour.

It is very difficult to describe the way I felt at that time; there seemed to be no feeling – I was static, expressionless.  Sometimes I feel like a video camera wielded by some operator and viewing life through the 4:3 letterbox ratio of normal screens, nothing special, ordinary and certainly not able to see myself in the reflection of the eye-piece.  Just that life goes on moving like a film, yet there are no actors, only objects and props.

I was angry at other cars for driving slowly and keeping us from the park.  I had in mind to walk, voice our concerns and cry.  At one point we witnessed a car accident right next to us, though we did not stop; we could offer nothing at that stage, we felt numb.  The altruism that normally would have prevailed, failed to start like some decrepit lemon of a vehicle.  Though I could hardly say I thought about it even a second after it happened.  Even when she tried to fill the gap in the space I left for her and the ute colliding into her drivers side door, I felt nothing.

The park I wanted was closed to cars for the day and angrily we drove to the last resort, which was open.  There we sat upon a felled Eucalypt and moistened the soil with our sorrow.  I could not think of anything, though my mind was not short on subjects.  I dreamt a lot those past few weeks, of the possibility of fatherhood.  I’d thought about our child’s first day of school, or me reading stories at night, or clowning around in some way or another.

What I wasn’t able to verbalise was the complete absence of love felt from my mother; we weren’t welcome and did not know exactly why.  “You never talk to us, you come in, you go out.”  All the time my wife wept and became more upset with the complete lack of sympathy and regard for why we may have felt this way in the first place.

In a moment of surrender, I asked my wife “You know what I’ve thought about for the past few months?” as we walked around the sodden clearing, “did we make the right decision coming here?”  That was my decision.  I made it -like everything- with the consideration of every element relying on our comfort and spaciousness, though I hadn’t considered the love.  That sensitivity that sets me apart from my family; I literally feel light-years away.  “I certainly don’t feel the love here, only the scepticism and distrust of our chosen path.  Your grandparents love us so much and to them that is all that really matters in life.”

Then, inexplicably and uncontrollably I felt the fangs creep in, embed and take over.  That pang of pseudo-autism that prevents me from being neutral: guilt. And out it reeled, that “I shouldn’t talk like that, they’re my parents!”

My wife exploded in support of my flaw, “what about her guilt?  She says the most inconsiderate things.  She treats those cats better than she treats you.” There was no denying it.  I never forget an altercation that hurts.  She said once, not long ago “we didn’t have to have children, you know, but we did.”  I’m glad she had the choice, because we certainly didn’t, least of all me.

If it were not blatantly obvious, I’ll spell it out.  We’ve just finished a round of Intra-Uterine Insemination and my wife just got her period today, after a month of ups and downs, cramps, strange behaviour and idealistic dreams.