Pain and Punishment

This could have been aptly titled "overheard on the patio" but it was not just that.

She was talking on the phone as I settled in. Perhaps that is why I overheard the conversation in the first place. I can't remember now, but it must have been the content that made me really listen in.

Although it might have been the quality of her voice. There was so much pain busting out of the tightly woven frustration, bother and anger.

Maybe it was that. I know anger is just the easiest way to hide pain.

But it was not hidden from me.

It's the first overnight alone.

I didn't want them to have to go to a strange house.

His father

Long disquisition on how he was never a good father before. Why try now? He's (one of her sons) old enough to say he doesn't want to stay. I won't make him go.

Long explanation about why his new place was inappropriate. He should have just gotten an apt not rented a two bedroom house.

Long story about having to go to the house while he (maybe they) was there.

None of my clothes fit me. I have three bags full of clothes that don't fit me. I lost 31 pounds.

Back to long story... Four glasses of wine and she was tipsy. 31 pounds. Need all new clothes.

When they... They'll get a dog. (I could not bring myself to even listen closely to this. So much pain right there below the surface.)

She (later the one who will not be named) ...but the woman on the patio encouraged her friend on the phone to get on fb and look for pictures.

She's 5'9, blonde. She's big. 14-16. She's 35. She's younger, remember...newer...

Her divorce is already final...

(Friend must have tried to divert attention.) Now she's talking about the younger son and his jogathon.

(Right back to the break up...not sure she is really calling it divorce in her own mind.) The dishwasher, the car, dividing assets, money.

Her phone is dying. And then it does. And she leaves.

While she was talking I glanced over. She is still wearing her wedding ring. She is reading a book about children and divorce.

She has decided it is about the kids. She will wrap herself up in motherhood and hold on tight. There is so much righteous anger to hold her there-blameless victim of cruel, bad father/husband/cheat.

She will punish him by fighting with him about the children, by making him the bad father to him, to his kids, to his family, to the world.

I am sure her friends are gently encouraging her not to hold on to this anger. To move on. They don't understand. It is not about this at all.

I don't know her. I am not even moved by her really. But I recognize the pain, viscerally.

I want to reach over and touch her. I want to tell her that she is entitled to all her emotions: rage, sadness, bitterness, humiliation, frustration, feat, self-doubt.

I want to hug her and tell her that she doesn't have to be brave all the time, but she can be if it makes her feel better.

I want to offer to be there and not judge and listen and feel her.

But I don't know her. I just know how it feels.

So I send her some silent metta and hold back my own tears.

I can be brave today too even though I feel powerless.

Location:Historic U.S. 66,Albuquerque,United States