Telling Dad

"Were did you go last night?" Sheldon asked absentmindedly as he wiped the steam from his shower off our bathroom mirror.

"Just driving," I answered, wondering if he was really interested or just concerned about how much of his gas I had used.

"Driving where?" he persisted.

Would it matter to him?  Would he actually listen and care how I had been feeling, and would it make a difference?  Probably not, but on the off chance that it would break through his indifference, I decided to tell him.

"I drove over to Main Street, and then out to Apache Junction as fast as I possibly could.   I was hoping, well, actually praying, that someone would run into me and kill me."

"You were what?" Sheldon asked in surprise.  At least that had got his attention.

"I was hoping someone would run into me," I repeated, stubbornly focusing on fixing my hair and putting on my makeup so I wouldn't have to look at my husband.  "I couldn't stand just laying there in bed next to you when you finally got home. I was too wired to go to sleep, and I knew I had to do something, so I took your truck and drove.  I know I can't kill myself, Heavenly Father would be mad at me and I'd get in way too much trouble, but I was hoping He could let me die another way, so I tried to help him out by giving him an opportunity for me to be in an accident."

Sheldon didn't say anything for a moment, then he just shrugged his shoulders and said, "Well, that was kind of a dumb thing to do."  With that he walked into the bedroom to get dressed and ready for work.

"Oh, well," I told myself. "So much for trying to get him to think about how I'm feeling."

I finished getting ready, made a quick breakfast, then packed Sheldon's lunch while he ate.  It was bizarre, how life went on the way it always had, even after my husband told me that he'd had affairs with just about every woman he'd ever met, he'd been unfaithful our entire marriage, and now he was tired of pretending and thought he might want a divorce. 

"I like being married," he'd told me a few days after that revelation, "You're not a bad wife and I like the way you take care of me and everything.  I don't really want that to end.  I just want to be able to be with other women at the same time."

How do you respond to a statement like that?  I prayed every morning and night, and most of the time in-between, that Heavenly Father would help me know what to do.  I prayed that I would be able to hear the promptings of the Holy Ghost and that He would prompt me to say the right things that would help Sheldon want to make our marriage work.  I prayed that I would be kind, and understanding, and forgiving, and not make things worse as Sheldon tried to figure everything out.  I knew I shouldn't, because I knew I couldn't change anybody but myself, but I still prayed that a miracle would happen and Sheldon would see the light and suddenly realize that he loved me and decide he wanted to be married to me.  Most of all, I prayed that Heavenly Father would help us find a way to save our marriage. 

After Sheldon left for work that day I put on my dark sunglasses, put the kids in the car, and drove them down to the bus stop.  The sun was not bright, but I had to wear the glasses to cover the redness in my eyes from crying all night.

"Hi, Gale," one of my neighbors called happily to me as we gathered at the bus stop.  "How are things going today?"

"Great," I lied with a smile on my face.  "How are you doing?"

It went like that every morning.  People asked me how I was doing, I lied and said everything was good, and then we talked about  their problems.  It was a lonely feeling, knowing that no one but our Bishop knew what I was going through.  But I didn't feel like I should tell anyone.  This was Sheldon's problem, and it didn't seem right for me to tell anyone else about it.

After Russell got home from kindergarten at noon,  I dropped him and Alyssa and Stephen off at mom's house, then drove over to the elementary school.  I was a new member of the PTSA, and we were in the middle of a fundraiser.  There were three other mothers in the teacher's lounge, counting money and filling out paper work.  I sat down at a long table covered with magazine orders and tried to concentrate, but it was hard. 

"Hey, Gale," one of the other moms said about half an hour later.  "There's someone outside to see you."

To see me?  I couldn't imagine who it could be, until I walked outside and saw my father standing on the sidewalk. 

"Dad," what are you doing here?"  I asked in surprise.

"I need to talk to you, Gale," dad said.  "Tell the ladies you have to go, and come take a ride with me."

I made my excuse, walked out to the parking lot with dad, and climbed into his truck.

"Sheldon called me this morning," dad began, and then I understood.  I guess Sheldon had listened more than I thought that morning, and got worried about me, so he called dad. 

What a relief it was to finally be able to talk to someone.  I talked and dad listened, and after awhile he turned to me and said, "First of all, Gale, you have got to think about your kids.  They need you!  You're really the only parent they have right now, so you have to put them first and make sure you don't do anything that will hurt them.  Do you understand?"

I did.  I knew I had been selfish, thinking only about how much I hurt and how badly I wanted it to stop.  Number one, I had to stop wishing I was dead, and start living to take care of my family. 

"Second, you need to divorce Sheldon right now and get away from him," Dad continued.

What?  Dad was telling me I was supposed to get a divorce?  I couldn't believe I was hearing correctly.  All of my life I had been taught about the sanctity of marriage, that divorce was not an option, and here my father was, telling me I should leave my husband?  Really bizarre!

We talked for a couple of hours, me explaining over and over about how I hoped Sheldon would change, that I really thought he might be able to now that everything was out in the open, and that I loved him.  Dad listened and was understanding, but he didn't change his stance on us getting a divorce. 

"People don't change that much," he told me more than once.  "You can put a wolf in sheep’s clothing, but it doesn't make it a sheep.  Sheldon is who he is, and he isn't going to change just because you want him to, or just because he realizes he is doing something wrong.  He's still going to be Sheldon, and you've just got to accept that fact."

I wondered when dad had decided Sheldon wasn't the perfect Mormon boy he had pretended to be?  And if dad had known, why hadn't he told me about it?  Most of all, I felt bad that dad was judging Sheldon so harshly.  Hadn't the Lord told us to love one another, have charity for all men, forgive others their trespasses?  How could my perfect father have forgotten how to be like Christ?

Eventually dad had to take me back to school to get the girls.  He assured me, over and over, that he and mom loved me no matter what, that they were there for me and would stand behind me whatever happened, and that he knew I had to figure things out my own way in my own time.  But then he told me again that he thought I ought to throw Sheldon out immediately, and he and mom would be there to help me if I did.

I went home feeling lighter, although nothing was any better.  At least I didn't have to bear this burden all by myself anymore, and it was really comforting to know that my parents stood behind me and loved me regardless of what happened.  I'd been afraid they would be disappointed in me, even though none of this was my fault, and that if Sheldon left me they would be upset because they were loosing their favorite son-in-law.  Silly, I know, but Sheldon had the kind of personality that people adored, and I had always assumed everyone loved him more than they loved me.  It was really refreshing to hear dad say he wanted Sheldon gone, out of our family, even if it wasn't what I wanted to do. 

I thanked Sheldon that night for talking to dad.  He didn't seem to mind that much that dad and mom knew what was going on.  In fact, it almost seemed like he was glad.  I asked him if he had decided what to do yet, and he surprised me by saying he'd been thinking about going to talk to our Bishop.  Hope sprang in my chest when he told me that.  Maybe, after all, Sheldon was going to try to change, and maybe he did care about me and saving our marriage.  I was so glad!