May 1992.

I am 28 weeks into my first pregnancy. I belong in the 10% of the population whose blood type is RH negative. It could be a problem if the baby is RH positive; but in my case, my husband is also RH negative, so there is no possibility that could happen. Genetically, we can only have RH negative children; just like we can also only have children with light eyes.

During my routine doctor’s visit, the doctor tells me that he is going to give me the standard RhoGam shot. That would have made sense to me if there was a chance that my baby was RH positive…but there was no chance of that…so what’s up with that? Yes, I am also deathly afraid of needles!

Of course, I feel extremely upset and at this moment in time, I do not understand that the doctor is just doing his job. I don’t realize that he is being extra cautious, and that he must assume that there is always a possibility that who I say is the father isn’t. However, in this case my husband is the father!

I tell my husband about it, and I am frankly expecting a little bit of solidarity, outrage at the doctor, empathy for “what I had to endure”, anything except what actually happens. He instead implies that maybe he is not the father of our child; and that maybe the doctor knew something he didn’t. There really is no need to say how very insulted and hurt I feel. It leads, of course, to a tremendous fight.

I say, “How can you even think that?”, and he says, “Because you say a name in your sleep!”. He tells me that I call out a name in my dreams. Huh? Really? So I say, “What? What name do I say?” He says “You say the name Rick”. I have never met a Rick so I am surprised and a bit baffled. I have no idea what that could mean.

The feeling of being misunderstood seems to be pervasive within me, and I react very strongly anytime that I feel I am being unjustly accused. However, am I really being misunderstood? Or is it only in my head? The more I think about it, I realize that people hear what they want and or expect to hear. It could be that it isn’t about me at all. Maybe it is all about his insecurity. I really believe that he feels our disconnection as much as I do. Neither of us ever speaks up. Instead, we set ourselves up to sabotage our marriage. Hurtful words are hurled and then swept under the rug never to be revisited again. Words and actions left to fester in our subconscious like garbage rotting away.

Fast forward 21 years.

September 2013.

I believe in miracles. I believe that the universe conspires to help us achieve our innermost desires. It conspires to fulfill our needs…and I need so much.

I am silently screaming for help. Help that can only come from within? Who hears it?

I am in the process of setting up a real estate showing for a client who is also my friend. It already feels strange that the voice on the other side of the telephone call seems familiar to me. It’s a fleeting thought that goes through my mind, but that is impactful enough, that I remember it in full detail. I have no explanation for what happens next except to say it must be divine intervention.

I arrive to show the property with my client, and the man to whom I spoke to earlier, opens the door for us. My reaction to this man is where it really gets weird. I feel anger toward this man that I don’t know, and I don’t know why... I feel extreme upset at him. I’m thinking…what is going on?… am I going crazy? Could it be remnants of another life? Is this spiritual being the voice in my head? Stranger still, is the feeling of complete jealousy at him mentioning his girlfriend. What right do I have to feel jealous? Even stranger is that I feel that he reacts to my jealousy. He is experiencing something too and tries to soothe my ruffled feathers by dismissing what he said. There is a connection here that I have never experienced before.

I have never met this man before in all my life. To say I am confused, is an understatement of major proportions. Interestingly, I’m able to function normally on one level, even though I am in turmoil on another. All I want is to get out of there, get rid of my client, and analyze what just happened to me. The funny thing is that I don’t really see “him” as a physical being. I can’t even describe him or what he is wearing. It surprises me when my friend says that he is a good-looking man… or “eye candy”, as she so eloquently puts it. I feel more than see.

He tells me that he feels like he has known me all his life. I know exactly what he means! As the weeks go by, he calls me every so often for all kind of dumb excuses, and we become fast friends. I admit to loving the attention he gives me. I like feeling like an attractive woman. I feel sexy. There is a delicious connection that makes me feel things I have not felt in a long time. I am enjoying it and I do not want it to end. I think that if he realizes I am married, the flirting will end. I know it is an improper friendship; but it is more powerful than I am.

I am 51 and I have been married since before I was 20 years old. Sadly, my marriage was never right. I have never been unfaithful, and I take pride on how loyal I am. I expect loyalty so therefore I give it; and this friendship feels wrong in that level; but so right in another. It’s like finding an oasis in the desert that is my life.

About 30 days later…

For every pivotal moment there is a catalyst. This is the moment my life changed forever.

I am sitting in a restaurant waiting for take-out food to take home for dinner, just like I have done so many times before. This time feels different because he and I are talking on the telephone. Somehow the conversation leads to the question that I have so skillfully been avoiding. He says, “so…is that your situation? Are you divorced?” …Damnation…of course, I have to say the truth. This flirtation, innocent and inappropriate as it is, must end; so I say, “no…I am married”. There is a pause and I hear him say, “oh, I see”. Then one beat of silence…two beats…and then I speak. I’m speaking… but it’s not me who is doing the talking. It is the “I” in me that speaks. The “I” that knows it all, that knows my deep desires; or maybe the spirits that are my guides, my angels. I hear the words emerging from my mouth… “but…I am heading there… and it will be after the holidays”. Even though the words are coming from me, I do not recognize who is doing the talking. It’s as if someone has taken over my body and mind. The words come out of my mouth unaccounted, unplanned, unconscious. I HAVE MADE A DECISION. I wasn’t even aware that I had an option, I have never admitted it to myself. I have never verbalized it to another human being. I have never allowed myself to even consider divorce. The fact that I have just said it aloud, to another human being, that I have said it to myself, shocks me to the core of my being. The fact that I have put a date to it… is extraordinary.

The momentous import of what I have just verbalized is lost in him. He doesn’t realize that my life, as I know it, has been thrust into a different path by uttering those words. Words that hold power beyond belief. Also, by putting a date to it…a deadline of sorts, I know I’m committing to it. The people around me are unaware that my life has irrevocably changed …the Cuban expresso coffeemaker releases its steam, the customers browse the menus, the waitress is busy picking up dirty dishes… and my life is over. The life that I know is over.

My body begins trembling and I feel faint. My hand releases its grip on the cellular phone it had been holding and it clatters noisily to the floor. I have no recollection who helped me. Someone brought me a Coke. Someone else directed me to breathe deeply and to put my head between my legs…I hear the faint screams coming from the cellphone laying at my feet …calling my name.

Eventually, and still reeling from the shock, I pick up the discarded cellphone from the “not so clean” floor and he is still there. I attempt to explain what just happened; but I know that he cannot possibly understand. I feel fear and I am terrified. Strangely, in the midst of all the chaos in my head, there is a sense of deep relief for having uttered those dreaded words. A ray of hope begins to show itself in the vast landscape of my confused universe.

He tells me about his situation and how he had walked out of his long-term marriage one year before, and that a friend had been there for him during that very lonely and difficult time to hold his hand. He tells me that he would like to pay it forward and be that friend to me. I believe that at some point in our lives, we are called to be angels to someone else, and that angels come into our lives in many forms.

He was my angel. His name was Rick.

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Tuki

Tuki

65 Followers

I travel extensively and live my life to the fullest. I keep losing and finding myself. I hope to share my adventures, photographs, and thoughts here with you.