Coming Home

We convinced Jessica to come home.  

Jason and I had followed her for a block or so before she finally stopped.  I got out of the car and walked up to her.

“I’m scared,” she said.

“It’ll be okay.  Just come home.”

“The messages are telling me to leave you guys but I don’t want to.  I’m scared.”

Her eyes were wild and darted occasionally.  Ever since this started, her eyes had taken on this kind of caged-animal look.  Honestly, they reminded me of the way our cat looked at night when he was bouncing off the walls wanting to go out.  The rest of her face looked tight.  I don’t know if that is really a good description, but that is what it seemed to me - tight.  She looked almost like another person.

“You don’t have to leave us,” I said. “I don’t know why you are getting messages saying you have to leave us, but the messages are wrong.  You don’t have to leave.  I love you.  The boys love you.”

Finally, thankfully, she got into the car.

Jason spoke up right away.

“Mom I’m sorry you aren’t feeling good.  If this is because I slept over Josh’s I won’t do it again.”

My heart broke a little listening to Jason.  Of all the pain I’d felt in the last hours, the pain of Jason’s statement was almost unbearable.  It struck me how quickly kids, and all of us really, look to blame ourselves for things.  To an adult, the idea of Jason’s sleepover causing all this turmoil was ludicrous, but to Jason it was possible.

Before I could reassure him, Jessica spoke, “It’s ok honey, and it’s not you.  I love you.  I haven’t been a good mom to you.  I want you to know how much I love you. You deserve a good mom.”

Jason was crying as he said, “But you are a good mom.”

He reached into the front seat to put his hand on her shoulder.

We got her home.  It was almost 3am.  I got Jessica upstairs to our room and Jason into his. Harry was in his room, the door closed, hopefully asleep.  

“I know it will be hard, but try to get some sleep,” I said to him.

“Just don’t let her leave again.”

“I won’t,” I replied and kissed his forehead.

Jessica lay in bed but she was still in the same sweats and light shirt she had been wearing when we left for the hospital.  I sat on the bed next to her.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“It’s ok.”

“No, I mean I’m sorry for everything.  I’ve done so many bad things.  In my whole life I’ve done so many bad things and I’m so sorry for them.”

Jessica had not done a lot of bad things in her life.  She was and still is a nurse.  She has spent most of her life helping people.  And though our marriage like others had its ups and downs, she was not a bad wife, nor a bad mother.

She sat up next to me and took my hands into hers.  

“I need you to look right into my eyes while we talk,” she said.

“Ok.”

“I’ve tried to help people but it has all been for ego,” she began.

I began to protest.

“No listen.  I haven’t been a good person because even if I’m doing something good it isn’t for good reasons.  It’s because I wanted people to see how great I was or something.  That’s why the messages are telling me to leave.  I have to learn to really help people.  You know I’m a healer, but I haven’t been healing like I’m supposed to.  You have to look at me when we talk.”

My eyes must have drifted off of hers.  It’s actually quite hard to not break eye contact while talking to someone.  I brought my eyes back to hers and she stared at me with her intense caged eyes.

“I haven’t been a good mother either.  I get mad too easy.  I don’t always put the kids first.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I told her.  “What you are saying isn’t true. It doesn’t make sense.  You know all you’ve done for this family, for your kids.”

What she was saying didn’t make sense.  She was a wonderful mom.  She loved her kids as much as anyone could.  She did everything she could for them.  She gave up a corporate nursing career to stay home with them.  Everything about this situation felt so weird and wrong to me, and everything she was saying about herself was so weird and wrong.  It was like some other person was confessing to me all of her sins, sins Jessica had not committed.

Abruptly she sat up.

“Where are you going?” I asked.  I was worried she was going to take off again.

“Just to the bathroom.”

I watched her walk down the hall and into the bathroom.  I slowly lay back onto the bed.  

“Where did Mom go?” Jason called out from his bedroom.  His room was directly across from ours, but it hadn’t occurred to me that he was still awake and vigilant.

“It's ok buddy, she just went to the bathroom.”

Jessica returned and got into the bed next to me.  She stayed stiffly on her back.

“Let’s try to sleep,” I said.

“Ok.”

After fifteen minutes or so Jessica sat up again.

“Where are you going?”

“I can’t sleep.  I’m going to go sit downstairs.”

Before I could say anything she was down the hall and down the stairs.  Jason was quickly out of bed and in my room.

“Where is she going?” he asked.

“Just to sit downstairs.”

“I’m going to,” he said.

“She’ll be ok.”

“What if she leaves?”

“Ok, we will both go downstairs.”

Jessica was back in the sitting room, on the couch where all this began.  Jason and I sat in the TV room on another couch.  Jason slumped against me, his head on my shoulder.

“Let’s not fall asleep Dad.  I think she will leave if we do.”

“Okay.”

I understood his fears and I didn’t want to tell him I thought the same thing.  So we sat.  I faced the sitting room where Jessica was -- her back was to us and I could see the silhouette of her head above the back of the couch.

Jason shook me awake.

“Dad you fell asleep.”

“Did I?”

I did not know I dozed off.  It was like a blank sleep of exhaustion.

“I think I did too,” Jason said. “Is Mom still there?”

“I’m sure she is,” I told him.  Truthfully, I wanted to go back to sleep and I was sure Jessica was finally exhausted and fell asleep herself.

“I’m going to check,” Jason said and trotted into the sitting room.

“Dad,” he said with a panicked voice. “She’s not here.”