MISTAKES

/ janpriddyoregon

The first time he hit her was three weeks after their wedding. She didn’t leave him, she said, because she could not face telling her mother she was right that he was a mistake. Her husband didn’t like her working, so she worked only when he was at sea and had to quit whenever he was home. He made her return the sofa she bought with money she earned. Every once in a while, he beat her up. It was always her fault. I don’t know if their daughter was aware of those occasional beatings, but she left the country for college and never went back.

Another woman I knew did finally leave her husband, packed a quick bag and drove her children away across two states to her brother’s home. There had been beatings, threats. He didn’t like her working. It was always her fault. She called a crisis line when she came home to find all her work clothing cut into pieces on their bed. The crisis worker told her that was a rehearsal, that she would be what her husband cut next, that she should go someplace he could not find her. She discovered during her divorce that he had put his first wife in the hospital. She hadn’t even known he’d been married before.

A woman I did not know was married to a local doctor. Maybe he beat her, maybe he was unfaithful, maybe he was cruel in some other way. I don’t know. I trust she had her reasons for what she did. She left him, moved away, divorced, and began a new life. She came home from work on a day that was not one of his days to see his children, to find he’d murdered both of her daughters and killed himself. His reasoning was to punish her and leave her with nothing.

For years I tried to understand how anyone could come back from that?

People make mistakes. Maybe you could share a few stories of people who suffered from their mistakes. Maybe you have a story of your own. My marriage has been my salvation, but I have made plenty of mistakes.

Everyone falls. Not everyone gets back up and carries on.

I wrote a novel about a woman who makes a bad marriage, but eventually leaves, suffers unbearably, and then must find a way to walk on through life without her daughter. I’m not certain I could do what my fictional character does, I am not certain I could recover. I wrote the novel to figure out how to do it.

My book, variously titled Everybody’s Mother Dies, The Promised Hour, and Painting Over, is not structured like a conventional novel. The bad stuff happens early and through the middle, but that’s not what the story is about. Everyone’s mother dies, everyone experiences loss, everyone makes mistakes. Mine is a novel about what comes after tragedy. It is the story of a woman taking a day at a time, placing one foot in front of another. Maybe that is where we are all going to be in the next year: figuring out how to get on with our lives.

Have I mentioned recently how much I still miss my mom and dad?

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9 thoughts on “MISTAKES”

  1. I once bought a horrible braided rug for way too much d’argent—what an idiot! most of us have done dumb things from time to time, but it takes a real sweetheart to be mean to a loved one. As stabler said, “only Jesus was perfect,” but that should not stop us from trying to walk in his bunny slippers—remember, you’re only human so learn piano, man, on the harp, and don’t hurt anyone along the way.

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  2. There is a song that says “what [does not] kills you makes you stronger” and this is just not true. It beats you down through the years if it lasts too long…

    I think the song refers to temporary projects at work where one had no life for a year and now the project has been completed, it was successful so the person moves on to their next project. Or a rags to riches story. Entirely different.

    Experiencing past trauma of a severe kind, resiliency to me means that a person learns to live with the brokenness on a daily basis with help through their spiritual nature. Especially if no external support system for them exists.

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    • Oh Mary Jo, I do agree.

      Sometimes what does not kill simply grinds people to dust. [“What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger” originally comes from an aphorism of the 19th century German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche. It’s probably unfair to add that Nietzsche was a favorite of Hitler, but it’s true.]

      I feel the same way when people say “God doesn’t give you more than you can bear.” Sometimes life does.

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      • I agree about the phrases “What doesn’t kill you…” and “God doesn’t give you…”. I find the former simplistic and untrue for the reasons you both state. Sometimes what doesn’t kill someone just does Grind. Them. Down. The latter phrase is dismissive and condescending to those carrying a heavy burden and is apparently a huge misinterpretation of a Bible verse (which I’ve not looked up). This was a really thought-provoking post, Jan, thank you.

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  3. I liked this piece a lot. I relate to some of what you articulate. I have lived through some experiences, and also write of “domestic violence”, which is criminal, degrading, isolating, and a nightmare… I just posted a long short story about this, in a small degree, and caring for others–a story of hopefulness, as hope and care are so sorely needed today more than ever. (Parts 1 and 2 on my blog here.)

    I, too, wrote a novel about the aftermath of an abusive marriage– and a death. It was walled “Other Than Words.” The widow, a dancer, becomes entirely mute but the story is about her slow recovery within a community who learns to aid her recovery. An editor that I respect said it needed so much more work that I found it overwhelming at the time. I still think of it.
    I would be interested in reading your novel, Jan. Thanks for writing of many things, and hard things.

    PS The photo is excellent. And I miss my parents, as well–they fortunately were quite in love, or what looked like it, ’til the end.

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    • Thank you so much! I relate to “so much more work” as discouraging. I have pushed and pushed that story, torn it up and reconnected, tossed scenes, chapters, tens of thousands of words. It’s hard to see it fresh each time. I could send my novel to you. (I would love someone to read this revision.) But we are all busy people, so no obligation.

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