Not long ago, one of My Facebook buddies posted a touching story that was like a poorly wrapped Christmas present: The inside was pretty cool, but you had to overlook the packaging. There was a good story but the author lacked the skill-set to tell it in such a way that it fulfilled its potential.
I decided that it would be an interesting challenge to rewrite it. I required myself to capture exactly what the original writer wanted to say without adding or taking anything out of the story. All I wanted to do was inject punctuation, improve grammar, broaden the vocabulary, insert some adjectives and lend it some much needed structure. So this article is my first attempt at ghost writing, but in this case, I was self-appointed. See what you think.
ONE MAN’S MARRIAGE
When my wife served dinner, I gently stated, “I've got something to tell you.” She sat down and ate quietly.
I didn't know how to begin, but I had to let her know I wanted a divorce.
I raised the topic calmly and I observed the hurt in her eyes. Then, she softly asked me, “Why?”
I struggled to tell her I didn’t love her any more: that she had lost my heart to Jane, but I did the best I could. Naturally, she was saddened. She dropped her fork and left the room.
Later that night and with a deep sense of guilt, I wrote up a preliminary divorce agreement. I offered her our house, our car, and a 30% stake of my company. The next morning she read it and broke down and cried as she tore it into pieces.
I actually pitied her. The woman who had spent ten years of her life with me had become a stranger. I felt sorry for her wasted time, resources and energy, but I could not take back what I had said or felt. Besides, I loved Jane so dearly, there was no doubt in my mind. The idea of divorce, which had obsessed me for several months, seemed to be firmer and clearer than ever before.
The next day, I came back home very late, after an eventful day with Jane. My wife was writing something at the table, but I didn’t want to talk with her so I went straight to bed.
When I woke up, she was still sitting there at the table.
Then, she presented some of her own divorce conditions: She didn't want anything from me, but she did have two requirements:
First) She wanted to wait a full month before any official divorce proceedings would begin. During that month we were to both live as normal a life as possible. Her reason was simple: Our son had exams in a month's time and she didn't want to disrupt him with our broken marriage.
Second) She asked me to recall how I had carried her over the threshold on our wedding day. Then, she requested that every morning for the month's duration I carry her out of our bedroom to the front door in that same way.
I thought she was going crazy, but just to make our last days together bearable I accepted her odd request.
Later that day, I told Jane about my wife's divorce conditions. We both laughed loudly and thought it was absurd.
The next morning, when I woke up, I realized my wife and I hadn't had any body contact for several months. When I carried her to the door as agreed, we both felt awkward, but our son followed us and clapped his hands. “Daddy is holding mommy in his arms”, he cheered. His words brought me a sense of pain. My wife closed her eyes and said softly, “Please don't tell him about the divorce.” I nodded and put her down outside the door. Then I drove to the office.
The second day was easier. She leaned on my chest. I could smell the fragrance of her blouse. I realized that I hadn't looked at her carefully for a long time. I let myself glance at her and noticed that our marriage had taken its toll on her. There were a few fine wrinkles on her face, and her hair was graying just a bit. For a minute, I wondered what I had done to her. Once again, our son followed us, with enthusiasm.
On the fourth day, when I lifted her up, any resentment I harbored had vanished. I waited for our son to follow us to the door.
On the fifth and sixth day, I realized that our sense of intimacy was growing again and I wasn’t sure if I was going to tell Jane about my observations.
As the month slipped by, it became easier and easier to carry her. She seemed to be getting lighter, or perhaps I was getting stronger.
One morning, she tried on quite a few dresses but could not find a suitable one. Then she sighed, “All my dresses have grown bigger.”
I looked closer and realized that she had become rather thin and that was the reason why I could carry her more easily. Apparently the entire ordeal was wearing her down. Her much lighter weight made me sad. Subconsciously I reached out and touched her head.
Our son came in at the moment and said, “Daddy, it's time to carry mommy to the door.” To him, seeing his father carrying his mother had become an essential part of his morning. My wife gestured to our son to come closer and hugged him tightly.
I turned my face away because I was ashamed of what I was doing to two such fine people. I then picked up my wife and held her closely. Her fragile arms surrounded my neck softly and naturally. I held her body tight; it was just like our wedding day.
There was no doubt: I changed my mind.
On the last day, I drove past my office and went strait to Jane’s house. When she opened the door, I said to her, “I’m sorry, Jane, but I do not want the divorce anymore.”
She looked at me, astonished, and then touched my forehead. “Do you have a fever?” She said.
I brushed her hand off my head.
I went on “I’m Sorry, Jane, I was all wrong. My marriage was boring because I didn't value the details of our lives, not because we didn't love each other anymore.”
Jane seemed to suddenly wake up. She gave me a loud slap and burst into tears, and then slammed the door.
On my way home, I stopped at the floral shop and ordered a bouquet of flowers for my wife. The salesgirl asked me what to write on the card. I smiled and told her to say, “I want to carry you out every morning, until death do us part.”
As I was driving home, I was full of enthusiasm. Both my heart and my face were smiling. I grabbed the flowers and ran upstairs, only to discover that my wife….. had died in our bed.
As it turned out, she had been fighting CANCER for months and I was too busy with Jane to even notice. All along she knew that she was dying, but all that mattered to her was that we stayed together as a family for as long as possible. In the end, she made me appear to be a better man, in my son’s eyes, than I had ever done on my own.
And, I sincerely wish…there was some way…I could thank her.
The moral to this story is, “The small details of our lives are what really matter in any relationship. So take the time to do the little things that matter to others and appreciate the little things that others do for you.
“The rest will just fall into place."
Okay, that's the revised version. I thought it was a heart-felt story with an intereseting and conflicting message. The man loved his wife, but he was a scoundrel. Do you think he went back to Jane?
Be Sure to check out my other blog about Family Finances.
I decided that it would be an interesting challenge to rewrite it. I required myself to capture exactly what the original writer wanted to say without adding or taking anything out of the story. All I wanted to do was inject punctuation, improve grammar, broaden the vocabulary, insert some adjectives and lend it some much needed structure. So this article is my first attempt at ghost writing, but in this case, I was self-appointed. See what you think.
ONE MAN’S MARRIAGE
When my wife served dinner, I gently stated, “I've got something to tell you.” She sat down and ate quietly.
I didn't know how to begin, but I had to let her know I wanted a divorce.
I raised the topic calmly and I observed the hurt in her eyes. Then, she softly asked me, “Why?”
I struggled to tell her I didn’t love her any more: that she had lost my heart to Jane, but I did the best I could. Naturally, she was saddened. She dropped her fork and left the room.
Later that night and with a deep sense of guilt, I wrote up a preliminary divorce agreement. I offered her our house, our car, and a 30% stake of my company. The next morning she read it and broke down and cried as she tore it into pieces.
I actually pitied her. The woman who had spent ten years of her life with me had become a stranger. I felt sorry for her wasted time, resources and energy, but I could not take back what I had said or felt. Besides, I loved Jane so dearly, there was no doubt in my mind. The idea of divorce, which had obsessed me for several months, seemed to be firmer and clearer than ever before.
The next day, I came back home very late, after an eventful day with Jane. My wife was writing something at the table, but I didn’t want to talk with her so I went straight to bed.
When I woke up, she was still sitting there at the table.
Then, she presented some of her own divorce conditions: She didn't want anything from me, but she did have two requirements:
First) She wanted to wait a full month before any official divorce proceedings would begin. During that month we were to both live as normal a life as possible. Her reason was simple: Our son had exams in a month's time and she didn't want to disrupt him with our broken marriage.
Second) She asked me to recall how I had carried her over the threshold on our wedding day. Then, she requested that every morning for the month's duration I carry her out of our bedroom to the front door in that same way.
I thought she was going crazy, but just to make our last days together bearable I accepted her odd request.
Later that day, I told Jane about my wife's divorce conditions. We both laughed loudly and thought it was absurd.
The next morning, when I woke up, I realized my wife and I hadn't had any body contact for several months. When I carried her to the door as agreed, we both felt awkward, but our son followed us and clapped his hands. “Daddy is holding mommy in his arms”, he cheered. His words brought me a sense of pain. My wife closed her eyes and said softly, “Please don't tell him about the divorce.” I nodded and put her down outside the door. Then I drove to the office.
The second day was easier. She leaned on my chest. I could smell the fragrance of her blouse. I realized that I hadn't looked at her carefully for a long time. I let myself glance at her and noticed that our marriage had taken its toll on her. There were a few fine wrinkles on her face, and her hair was graying just a bit. For a minute, I wondered what I had done to her. Once again, our son followed us, with enthusiasm.
On the fourth day, when I lifted her up, any resentment I harbored had vanished. I waited for our son to follow us to the door.
On the fifth and sixth day, I realized that our sense of intimacy was growing again and I wasn’t sure if I was going to tell Jane about my observations.
As the month slipped by, it became easier and easier to carry her. She seemed to be getting lighter, or perhaps I was getting stronger.
One morning, she tried on quite a few dresses but could not find a suitable one. Then she sighed, “All my dresses have grown bigger.”
I looked closer and realized that she had become rather thin and that was the reason why I could carry her more easily. Apparently the entire ordeal was wearing her down. Her much lighter weight made me sad. Subconsciously I reached out and touched her head.
Our son came in at the moment and said, “Daddy, it's time to carry mommy to the door.” To him, seeing his father carrying his mother had become an essential part of his morning. My wife gestured to our son to come closer and hugged him tightly.
I turned my face away because I was ashamed of what I was doing to two such fine people. I then picked up my wife and held her closely. Her fragile arms surrounded my neck softly and naturally. I held her body tight; it was just like our wedding day.
There was no doubt: I changed my mind.
On the last day, I drove past my office and went strait to Jane’s house. When she opened the door, I said to her, “I’m sorry, Jane, but I do not want the divorce anymore.”
She looked at me, astonished, and then touched my forehead. “Do you have a fever?” She said.
I brushed her hand off my head.
I went on “I’m Sorry, Jane, I was all wrong. My marriage was boring because I didn't value the details of our lives, not because we didn't love each other anymore.”
Jane seemed to suddenly wake up. She gave me a loud slap and burst into tears, and then slammed the door.
On my way home, I stopped at the floral shop and ordered a bouquet of flowers for my wife. The salesgirl asked me what to write on the card. I smiled and told her to say, “I want to carry you out every morning, until death do us part.”
As I was driving home, I was full of enthusiasm. Both my heart and my face were smiling. I grabbed the flowers and ran upstairs, only to discover that my wife….. had died in our bed.
As it turned out, she had been fighting CANCER for months and I was too busy with Jane to even notice. All along she knew that she was dying, but all that mattered to her was that we stayed together as a family for as long as possible. In the end, she made me appear to be a better man, in my son’s eyes, than I had ever done on my own.
And, I sincerely wish…there was some way…I could thank her.
The moral to this story is, “The small details of our lives are what really matter in any relationship. So take the time to do the little things that matter to others and appreciate the little things that others do for you.
“The rest will just fall into place."
Okay, that's the revised version. I thought it was a heart-felt story with an intereseting and conflicting message. The man loved his wife, but he was a scoundrel. Do you think he went back to Jane?
Be Sure to check out my other blog about Family Finances.
1 comment:
I did not see that ending coming. Quite shocking to read how easy it is to become desensitized to ones closet surroundings.
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