Flashback

The heat finally broke in the Phoenix metro.  I was outside, below 90, slight breeze.  It felt awesome.  I looked up at the clouds.  Two stars near each other were briefly outlined before some clouds obscured them, the stars reminding me of my dog Zoey's eyes.

Boom.  Instant flashback to four years ago. I am in my brand new class A RV parked near the national forest on the East Rim of the Grand Canyon.  I am outside enjoying the cool evening.  My wife and son are inside.  

I know my marriage is in trouble but have no clue how bad it is.  I have quit my job to watch my special needs son a few months earlier, liquidated my retirement, and bought this RV with the idea that when my wife changes jobs we will just "move our house" plus it is an adventure. Maybe it was sort of a last gasp for us.  My dog Zoey has cancer and has not long to live. My cat Niko will soon escape and be eaten by coyotes one night.  But that is later.

I sit under the awning of my RV and look up into the brilliant night sky.  I look at my son through the window into his bunk and wave.  

I think at the time I was desperate for some sort of peace.  I could tell the wheels where coming off.  I was so angry at the world and the politics going on at the time.  During that day I actually sat outside and got some peace.  I had a sort of Zen moment where I was listening to the wind whisper through the nearby trees and I relaxed.  It felt really nice.  After dinner I was hoping to repeat that.  Grab a few minutes under the stars.  I invited my wife outside but she declined, which actually was OK by me as I was enjoying just chilling alone.

It was nice, that day, and that night (might have been a few nights).  The RV seemed to be working out.  I was calmer.  My wife briefly seemed happier.  My son was doing his thing and I was taking him to day care which had reopened.  I had some time to myself.  It was the calm before the storm.

Then my cat Niko died.  Then Zoey died.  My wife started "hanging with friends" a lot after work down toward Phoenix.  Then she quit returning text and calls right away, even though I know she had her phone glued to her hand.  Our wedding anniversary came up, I wanted to go out, she declined.  More stuff.  I finally hand enough and we had "the talk".  Fast forward two months later I had moved out, the RV was in the process of being sold, and she was gone.  I offered to try counseling, but the answer was always the same, "not yet".  Then it was even on my end not ever.

But, even though that flashback hit me like a fierce blow, I appreciated the peace at the time.  A little grounding maybe, a little quiet, before the storm. Four long lonely years ago.