In the tumult and subsequent erosion of my relationship with my wife, I have found that my empathy and compassion I once possessed has become a suffocating blanket of anger and resentment- not at her, or my two beautiful and wickedly sharp daughters- no; my anger lies in my laziness and acceptance of the mundane and the paralytic indecision that haunts me every day. What would hold someone back from taking chances when something far better may lie around the corner? Why would someone take the easy approach and yell at a child, rather than guide them gently when they do not perform the way we adults would? Why would a parent teach a child through actions that the mediocre is acceptable? Laziness. The choking clot of bile that fear of rising above the tonnage of an iceberg constructed of insecurity and a loathing of the realm that laziness and poor choice led you to. The kind of weight you feel in the pit of your gut when you go to bed sunday night dreading the monday morning workday; the wanting- the needing to just step back but finding yourself walled in by you. The wrath that those nearest to you incur when your sympathy finds itself stuffed down deep, under layers of inaction and empty words by a fist clutching years of repressed hostility and quiet, burning, palpable hate. Such a pure, clean word, despite all it connotes... hate.
So now, having made poor choices which at one time affected only myself, I find myself with a family that includes a wife who is done accepting scraps from one who never really took the time to let her know that she really is one of the most exceptional people he was ever lucky enough to know, much less have the daughters that are every bit as fragile as they are wonderful, and who now hurt the way I remember I hurt. No five or three year old should ever have to feel alone, especially in their own home, and the crying jag I was witness to tonight finally wore that frozen tip away and allowed me to glimpse two little girls who are frightened of something they can't understand, but which is crushingly real. They feel ALONE... left by a father who chooses to take selfish time away from the ones who need him most and waste it in a beer glass. The shell that was once a vibrant and engaging woman has become a resentful and sullen mother and spouse by poor, thoughtless choices which had no more forethought than what I wanted; how I felt I was entitled to take some time for me. By a husband who chose to be lazy. Quite possibly the deadliest of sins, as it slowly kills all around it, laziness is a choice. To do the RIGHT thing, or to do nothing, give in and take the easy road.
Laziness has been my bugaboo my whole life. I have squandered my life to it, and hurt many along the way, because I wouldn't take the extra effort to even try.... and the aftermath is so obvious in the response I saw in two little tear stained faces that were wailing tonight as mom left to go out.. two little kids alone and unsure of what it is that they're feeling. The wraith of loneliness wrapped snugly about them, because daddy was always "too busy"... when in reality, he was just too lazy to make the effort to invest in the three people who should never have found themselves at the bottom of my priority list.
The iceberg is there. With determination and persistence, (the opposites of laziness), it might just get overturned.
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