Two Friends on a Plane
Our Rekindled BondBlog #1 Relationships
This is an excerpt from the 3rd book in the Bond Series -- Our Rekindled Bond -- coming soon.
Geneva is narrating:
On our flight to Dublin, Karin’s eyes were wide and gleaming, as if she were in deep thought, sort of lost to where she was and what was happening, and every once in awhile her face lit up with joy – something inside of her was bubbling up.
And she talked. And instinctively, I knew that my job was to listen, to receive what she had to say, to accept it, hold it, and not to comment, try to fix, minimize or deny anything. She needed to talk, and I was her sounding board.
And so, she began, “It’s as if a black marker has divided my life – there’s a before and there’s an after. Before my diagnosis, I was an innocent interloper in life with a smile on her face.
“We were very young, when Mik and I fell in love and were married, had our wonderful daughters.
“There is a lot to be said about our marriage: He was away playing hockey; I was raising the girls and was determined to hold us together as a family. Consequently, I was often lonely, bitter, angry, and, especially when the girls were young, dead tired. But I was the wife of a famous NHL hockey player, and everyone in town knew who I was, so I stuffed my feelings, drank a lot of coffee, gritted my teeth, put on my smiling mask, and carried on.
“Then, Mik betrayed me.”
I truly hope that I didn’t gasp out loud. I was the other half of that betrayal, and, although, Karin and I have never had the conversation, she was aware of my involvement. She had accepted that Krys was Mik’s and my child, and she even went as far as being able to treat him like he was the son she always wanted and never had. Here it comes, I thought. After all the years that have passed, we are now going to have that conversation. I broke out in a sweat. I waited with bated breath. But Karin continued, as if I had nothing to do with the introspection she was sharing.
“The hurt of that betrayal and the sorrow of my lost marriage was the cross that I couldn’t bear. So, along with all the other black emotions, I stuffed these new feelings down in the hidden caves, and shoved boulders over the entrances so none could escape, and I carried on.
“It was my duty; I had to hold the family together.
“Mik was acting out his guilt feelings and his worries over his son. What did I do? I consoled him, and busied myself, trying to take care of the crisis at hand.”
She reached over and put her arm around me. So, she does know that I’m here, I thought. Then, she went on: “It took the death of Krystian to make me realize that I was in deep trouble. I loved our beloved son, and, yet, when he died, I was unable to grieve. It brought me to my knees, but I didn’t know what to do about it. I was confused, exhausted, and barely able to get through my days.
“I got sick.
“On the other side of the black marker is the after the diagnosis phase. I wasn’t long into it, before I realized, that the before me no longer existed.
“I had been a confessed atheist. Soul wasn’t part of me. I certainly wasn’t guided by any small voice.
“I’ve heard it said that in the trenches there are no atheists, and I was now in the trenches – I had a death sentence. The diagnosis started to rattle my soul, and I came to grips with the fact that I wasn’t strong enough to face this on my own. I sought help.
“The therapist gently guided me to all those hidden caves and helped me shove aside the boulders to release all that anger, bitterness, fear, pain, sorrow, hatred and loneliness. The cathartic work was slow and difficult, and it often had me crying and screaming, ‘Enough, enough, please no more.’ She called it soul work, and she wouldn’t let me give up on it – give up on myself.
“I made progress, and started hearing that small guiding voice, and I listened. It had me taking stock. I began to realize who and what is important to me, and I’m trying to let go of who and what is not important.
“I’ve given up on taking responsibility for holding the family together, so that we can look perfect in the public eye. Each person in the family is important to me, and I’m going to just enjoy them. Trijay is very important to me. She has only kindness about her, and I love her dearly. I feel a sorrow when I realize that I won’t know how her life will unfold, but I can let myself feel that, and then, I let it go. I want to just enjoy every moment of her.
“I now realize that I had thrown myself, one hundred percent, into my design company, so as not to deal with my damaged marriage. And if I had an ounce of energy left, I advocated for every cause going. I no longer feel an attachment to my work or to any causes – they don’t hold any importance to me.
“I cherish a few dear friends (I can count them on one hand) and you, Geneva, are one of my best. I want to keep in touch. I want to tell each of you how much, in a positive way, that you have influenced my life. I want to say, ‘thank you,’ often. Forgive me, if I say, ‘I love you,’ at a time that might seem inappropriate, because, when that’s how I feel, I’m going to express it."
She didn’t stop for me to comment, or to say how I, too, cherish our friendship, she kept talking:
“I’ve thought a lot about whether Mik is important to me. I think that we are a work in progress. I don’t feel that I’m responsible for consoling him through my illness and dying – he’s on his own this time. And I think that I’m beginning to fall in love with him, once more. It’s not that wonderful, romantic, hormone-driven, crazy kind of love that we shared so many, many years ago and lost. It’s new. It’s fresh. It’s endearing. I think that it’s truer. Enchanting even. Just to see him, makes my insides smile with happiness. And I’m going to tell him that.”
She went silent, as if she had gone inside, and joy bubbled up on her face. She was lost to me and to the world, and I wondered, having talked out, if she might nap. But she recovered, found herself and added:
“And as for what I want to do with the time that is left … I have always wanted to go to Ireland, and I’m now on my way … with a dear friend. I know, Geneva, that the girls harassed you into accompanying me, and I’m glad that they did. Thank you for coming.”
“Yes, they did,” I answered truthfully, “but I, too, want to travel, and I don’t want to go traipsing around the world on my own. I’ve been to many places on conventions and such, but now I want to see places. I went to Hawaii with Shelly and enjoyed that, and now you’ve given me the opportunity to see Ireland. Thank you. We’ve landed. Let’s be off. I love you, too.”
https://amazon.com/author/marlenecheng
This is an excerpt from the 3rd book in the Bond Series -- Our Rekindled Bond -- coming soon.
Geneva is narrating:
On our flight to Dublin, Karin’s eyes were wide and gleaming, as if she were in deep thought, sort of lost to where she was and what was happening, and every once in awhile her face lit up with joy – something inside of her was bubbling up.
And she talked. And instinctively, I knew that my job was to listen, to receive what she had to say, to accept it, hold it, and not to comment, try to fix, minimize or deny anything. She needed to talk, and I was her sounding board.
And so, she began, “It’s as if a black marker has divided my life – there’s a before and there’s an after. Before my diagnosis, I was an innocent interloper in life with a smile on her face.
“We were very young, when Mik and I fell in love and were married, had our wonderful daughters.
“There is a lot to be said about our marriage: He was away playing hockey; I was raising the girls and was determined to hold us together as a family. Consequently, I was often lonely, bitter, angry, and, especially when the girls were young, dead tired. But I was the wife of a famous NHL hockey player, and everyone in town knew who I was, so I stuffed my feelings, drank a lot of coffee, gritted my teeth, put on my smiling mask, and carried on.
“Then, Mik betrayed me.”
I truly hope that I didn’t gasp out loud. I was the other half of that betrayal, and, although, Karin and I have never had the conversation, she was aware of my involvement. She had accepted that Krys was Mik’s and my child, and she even went as far as being able to treat him like he was the son she always wanted and never had. Here it comes, I thought. After all the years that have passed, we are now going to have that conversation. I broke out in a sweat. I waited with bated breath. But Karin continued, as if I had nothing to do with the introspection she was sharing.
“The hurt of that betrayal and the sorrow of my lost marriage was the cross that I couldn’t bear. So, along with all the other black emotions, I stuffed these new feelings down in the hidden caves, and shoved boulders over the entrances so none could escape, and I carried on.
“It was my duty; I had to hold the family together.
“Mik was acting out his guilt feelings and his worries over his son. What did I do? I consoled him, and busied myself, trying to take care of the crisis at hand.”
She reached over and put her arm around me. So, she does know that I’m here, I thought. Then, she went on: “It took the death of Krystian to make me realize that I was in deep trouble. I loved our beloved son, and, yet, when he died, I was unable to grieve. It brought me to my knees, but I didn’t know what to do about it. I was confused, exhausted, and barely able to get through my days.
“I got sick.
“On the other side of the black marker is the after the diagnosis phase. I wasn’t long into it, before I realized, that the before me no longer existed.
“I had been a confessed atheist. Soul wasn’t part of me. I certainly wasn’t guided by any small voice.
“I’ve heard it said that in the trenches there are no atheists, and I was now in the trenches – I had a death sentence. The diagnosis started to rattle my soul, and I came to grips with the fact that I wasn’t strong enough to face this on my own. I sought help.
“The therapist gently guided me to all those hidden caves and helped me shove aside the boulders to release all that anger, bitterness, fear, pain, sorrow, hatred and loneliness. The cathartic work was slow and difficult, and it often had me crying and screaming, ‘Enough, enough, please no more.’ She called it soul work, and she wouldn’t let me give up on it – give up on myself.
“I made progress, and started hearing that small guiding voice, and I listened. It had me taking stock. I began to realize who and what is important to me, and I’m trying to let go of who and what is not important.
“I’ve given up on taking responsibility for holding the family together, so that we can look perfect in the public eye. Each person in the family is important to me, and I’m going to just enjoy them. Trijay is very important to me. She has only kindness about her, and I love her dearly. I feel a sorrow when I realize that I won’t know how her life will unfold, but I can let myself feel that, and then, I let it go. I want to just enjoy every moment of her.
“I now realize that I had thrown myself, one hundred percent, into my design company, so as not to deal with my damaged marriage. And if I had an ounce of energy left, I advocated for every cause going. I no longer feel an attachment to my work or to any causes – they don’t hold any importance to me.
“I cherish a few dear friends (I can count them on one hand) and you, Geneva, are one of my best. I want to keep in touch. I want to tell each of you how much, in a positive way, that you have influenced my life. I want to say, ‘thank you,’ often. Forgive me, if I say, ‘I love you,’ at a time that might seem inappropriate, because, when that’s how I feel, I’m going to express it."
She didn’t stop for me to comment, or to say how I, too, cherish our friendship, she kept talking:
“I’ve thought a lot about whether Mik is important to me. I think that we are a work in progress. I don’t feel that I’m responsible for consoling him through my illness and dying – he’s on his own this time. And I think that I’m beginning to fall in love with him, once more. It’s not that wonderful, romantic, hormone-driven, crazy kind of love that we shared so many, many years ago and lost. It’s new. It’s fresh. It’s endearing. I think that it’s truer. Enchanting even. Just to see him, makes my insides smile with happiness. And I’m going to tell him that.”
She went silent, as if she had gone inside, and joy bubbled up on her face. She was lost to me and to the world, and I wondered, having talked out, if she might nap. But she recovered, found herself and added:
“And as for what I want to do with the time that is left … I have always wanted to go to Ireland, and I’m now on my way … with a dear friend. I know, Geneva, that the girls harassed you into accompanying me, and I’m glad that they did. Thank you for coming.”
“Yes, they did,” I answered truthfully, “but I, too, want to travel, and I don’t want to go traipsing around the world on my own. I’ve been to many places on conventions and such, but now I want to see places. I went to Hawaii with Shelly and enjoyed that, and now you’ve given me the opportunity to see Ireland. Thank you. We’ve landed. Let’s be off. I love you, too.”
https://amazon.com/author/marlenecheng
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