Outside Looking In

I broke a vow yesterday. I did something I swore I would never do again. I went back to the house I once lived in, the place that was a home to my now ex-wife and my children, a place that is still home to two of my children as well as to my granddaughter and son-in-law, but was never a true home to me as much as it was the place where everyone else lived but I did not seem to exist. I had to do it. My daughter and granddaughter were with me in my truck. It was cold and raining. There was nobody other than me to take them home from our terrific day and dinner together, so I sucked it up and did the deed.

It has been almost three years since I pulled out of that driveway, vowing never to return again. Not much has changed since then. My ex-wife has finally put on new gutters, something that had been needed for years. She took down the basketball hoop, something I had wanted to do for years but had been told not to do because our son might want to play basketball. I guess she finally figured out that he stopped playing basketball years ago.

The carport was jammed with stuff, a condition it has scarce ever been clear of. It's kind of funny, all the times I was told to get rid of my stuff in the garage so she could park her car in there, how many times I was told to clean it up so her car could get in. Yet here it is, some of the tools still in the same place I left them three years ago, more stuff shoved into the work bench and atop the cupboards, other stuff blocking any hope of parking. Now that I am not there, she can fill it with as much clutter as she wants.

I dropped off Meaghan and Charlotte in the driveway. Kate is in town visiting and Rick has his car in the driveway. My truck made it most of the way off the road, the back end just edging the curb of the cul-de-sac where I used to reside. Rick and Kate came out in the rain to talk; Kate gave me an update on the hunting trip.. still no luck, Rick wanted to see if I was around this weekend so we could get together. Meaghan unloaded her stuff and moved my suitcases from the back of the truck into the front seat.

Then they all went inside. I could almost hear the laughter and chatter of their voices. I slowly pulled round the semi-circle, staring at the light from the living room, wondering about my life there. I had lived in that house for 26 years, some of them happy, many of them difficult. It was never really a home to me; it was certainly a home for my wife and children. Now, once again, I was on the outside looking in as my children and granddaughter enjoyed life inside. It had long been the story of my life there. My heart broke again, just a little. I had to go there; I wish I hadn't.