photo by Patricia
A decision to concentrate on gratefulness lasted a few hours, until not long after Samuel got up.
“Gas in the garage, an open container?” I exclaim coming out of the studio in surprise. Usually he is overly careful about details.
With great disgust and a few choice words he goes into the garage returning to mutter, “It has evaporated.”
The snow-blower stopped working when we went out to clear the drive, me with a shovel while he puttered on the machine with no luck. Finally he shoveled too. The machine has been in the garage while he works on it, so far without success. The gas needed to be drained to check the lines. Maybe my worries were unfounded but he is no fun to be around and need not take it out on me.
Going in to mediate the anger melts away and what really lies beneath it is hurt from his disgust with me. When the half-hour is over a spitting anger gurgles back up, fury at being jabbed at. From gratefulness to barely contained rage in 60 seconds.
Errands gave a break from Samuel but it wasn’t easy to return. While driving memories of so much rage at my brothers and my mother erupts. My body was never mine. Nothing was. My attitude after returning home was quiet and reserved. Thanks for ruining my day Samuel went my thoughts yet the whisper behind them knows better.
My emotions ran the day and I was victim to them. Past rage can still ignite when hurt. All my self-talk didn’t seem to stop the internal storm of wanting to hurt back. He lived with a raging wife and he has a right for anger too. Get over it. It took a while, all day really.