Over the past few days, I've worked tirelessly (& I'm not exaggerating) to assist my wife (of 26 years) in preparing her mother's northeast Jackson home to be listed with a realtor. That entailed handyman and housework from morning 'till night within a mazelike 3,000 sf abode. An abode which more or less is just as it was whilst initially occupied by her family in the early '80s.
And when I say that, I'm also referring to all of the unresolved emotional trauma my wife, her younger brother and father endured therein (at the hand of Angie's mother). Childhood trauma that is easily stirred even today, all these years later, by her elderly mother's (who's been catered to throughout this months' long process) tongue. Not to mention her having to spend hours upon hours (+/-50 total days since last fall) sorting through her parents' belongings whilst inside the setting of said abuse.
On Monday, (8/15) evening, after we'd returned home and I'd had a chance to shower, Angie and I sat in the living room of our very-intentionally small abode and chatted about our quite exhausting day together. What was obvious, in spite of our said exhaustion, is we simply relished the sense of partnership. Now, it's important that you know that she's the one who's primarily poured herself into this 6+ month project on behalf of her mother. As such, it was only this week that my aforementioned "services" were warranted. Hence, we (as partners) really hadn't the necessity to attack the giant collectively.
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Within walking distance from Angie's childhood home, I vividly remember us as dating love birds, sitting quietly - after dark - snuggled close on a park bench on a cool fall evening. She and I often talked and talked during our courtship, and this night was no different. Thankfully, our chattiness served many purposes, one of which was staving off the physicality (fornication) between us.
But this night ended differently than any other we'd experienced up to that point. On this night, as we strolled back to her parents' home in the dark, she sobbed tears of shame and fear as she anxiously begged me to never leave her behind due to her parents' personal (mental health, neglect, wickedness) issues.
I remember nonchalantly blowing all that off. I felt as if she was being overly fearful, never realizing - in those moments - that this was her childhood trauma revealing itself. I reminded her that I'd known her family (formally) since I was a teen, growing up (too) at First Baptist Church Jackson.
Nonetheless, whilst looking back today, I can tell you that I've had enough of my fill of in-law rancor to easily justify walking away from our marriage. All due to the seeds of discord consistently sown and cultivated by her reflexively condescending parents.
All in all, the best words I can use to describe our experience regarding her family is: unrelentingly difficult.
Imagine driving from one side of the country to the other (East to West coast) but having to do so in reverse. Hence, you're disqualified from using the interstate system (or any other divided highway). Instead, you're handicapped to using all kinds of back roads. In reverse. As a result, the fatigue is constant (massively impeding your progress) since you're always looking over your shoulder in order to make any headway on your journey. Whilst looking back, this ridiculous analogy fits. Yet, Angie never for one moment wasn't worth constantly working - as partners - relative to outwitting the manipulativeness and deceit that were Bob and Edie Sigrest.
As an aside, you must know that the best year of our marriage (most of 2013) was when we lived in Cleveland, MS (2.5 hours - by car - from Jackson, MS) of all places. And this was because we were far removed from my in-laws. Angie smiled every day, and she was so sad when I was fired from my job (resulting in us having to return to Jackson, MS).
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My wife and I are slated to pick back up with our hands-on partnership this forthcoming weekend (437 Northpointe Parkway). I'm looking forward to again - physically - standing with her for such a time as this. Demons be damned. It feels as if we're finally close to sealing up this Pandora's Box once and for all.
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