Sometimes Love Hurts (7 page)

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Authors: Marie Fostino

BOOK: Sometimes Love Hurts
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Chapter Fifteen

A Struggle with Infidelity

Natalie’s Journal

 

Lisa, I know you must be having a difficult time reading this, but you must not stop. Please don’t let your anger toward your father for what he did take hold of your heart or think any bad thoughts of him.  Hopefully in the end, you will understand.

The next day I kicked your father out of our house.  I did not have to think twice about it.  I did not think I deserved what he did, and he did not deserve to be with us due to his betrayal.  And he didn’t even argue with me, as if he knew I was right.  He immediately packed his bags and moved back home with his parents.  Of course, they were devastated, and my parents were angry.  It’s amazing how one person can upset so many more.  It definitely had a domino effect.

Lisa, I don’t know if I can put into words how I felt at that time - betrayed, abandoned, and double-crossed I suppose.  My heart was so broken.  I know the word hate is a very strong one to use, but I was not sure if I was actually capable of hating even then.  It’s kind of funny how life can change a person and show a side of you that you did not know existed.  For example, I would never have guessed in a thousand years that your father would cheat on me.  What could I do with that?  Part of me urged me to say good-bye forever.  I was young and if I lost about ten pounds, I knew I could catch another man – one that would never, ever think of being disloyal to me.  What could I have done wrong to cause him to be unfaithful?  Part of me felt like a failure.  Was I not attentive enough? Was I not pretty enough?  But was that what love was about?  Didn’t he understand that what he did was wrong?  My mind was out of control. 

My head ached and I had no appetite, but I tried so hard to be there for you.  All I did was cry and you grew crabby too, but I knew it was because my attention was not as much on you as it should have been.  I didn’t blame you.  It was my fault.

I called the pastor that married us and told him on the phone the short version of what had happened.  He just listened as I rattled on between tears, and then he asked me if I would come in to see him.  The only problem was that he did not have an appointment available for another week.  It seemed so far away but I truly needed to talk to someone who was not biased.  The week passed slowly as I continued to take care of you.  Meanwhile, your father called me every day, but I ignored him.

“Natalie,” Pastor Clem said as I entered the church office and shook his hand, “so good to see you.” He was at least as old as my father with a head of gray hair, and a little tummy that hung over his belt.

I smiled, but was terrified inside.  Should I tell the pastor what happened?  Would he even understand?  We had talked on the phone, but he wanted to know everything from the beginning. I explained about the little boy I lost, and how it seemed at that time that I could feel a growing distance with your father.  I told him again about the makeup I found on the bed sheets.  My body was shaking, and I began to cry.  The pastor handed me a tissue, and I blew my nose before continuing.  When I finally finished, he just sat back and shook his head.

“There is no reason for you to stay with someone who has been unfaithful,” he began. 

The pastor walked around the room with his eyes closed and his hands folded behind his back. I could hear his feet shuffle on the floor with slow steps, and then I heard him sniffle before he went on. 

“God did not put a couple together to hurt each other, and he definitely does not approve of cheating.”  

I lifted my eyes toward him and stiffened my back forward. 

What’s he trying to say, I wondered?  Does he think I should divorce Michael?  Would a pastor of a church really tell me that?

I felt terribly confused, and my chest began to hurt.  I was still in love with your father.  I was so devastated by all that had occurred that I didn’t know what to think.  Pastor Clem rubbed the crease on his forehead and sat down next to me.  

“Let me tell you a story, Natalie.” 

I noticed his eyes turning red and he quickly dabbed them with some Kleenex. 

“Being a pastor, I hear all sorts of stories.  I see all kinds of people.  I minister to so many, and I’m on call twenty-four hours a day.  I go to nursing homes and hospitals to visit the sick and elderly.  That’s not counting the phone calls I receive from hurting people who need advice from me because I’m a servant of the Lord and should have all the correct answers for them.”  

I watched as his body began to shake and tears fell down his cheeks.  I was not sure what he had to say, but I could see it was very painful for him to go on, yet he did.

“One day when I went home, my wife had her suitcase packed,” he said breathing deeply.  “She told me she was leaving me.  She said I was not home enough for her needs.  She said that everyone was more important than her, and she didn’t have to live that way.  She wanted a man who loved her and wanted to be around her more often.”  

I watched as his body trembled with each word from his mouth. 

“You see, I was so busy helping other people that I wasn’t there for her.  I did not even realize that I had placed her on the back burner.  I just had so many people that needed me.  Well, we talked, and we prayed, and she gave me a second chance. ” 

I could not believe he was telling me something so personal.  I tried to understand what that had to do with me.  I was there for my husband.  I did not have another job; I was a stay-at-home mother.  And I did not cheat on my husband.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” I blurted out.  “You said so yourself.” 

“No you didn’t, Natalie,” Pastor Clem said, “but did I do something that was so terribly wrong that my wife wanted to leave me?”

I searched his face for a clue as to what he meant. 

“You were helping other people, Pastor Clem.  Why would she be so mad about that?”

“But I wasn’t there for her needs, Natalie.”  He paused for a few moments and then asked, “In the Bible does it say that one sin is worse than another?” 

I must have had a weird expression on my face as if I did not understand. 

“You know what I mean.  Is it worse to kill, steal, or lie?  You see, Natalie, I had to correct the way I was thinking.  I needed to put God first, my wife second, and my job third.  Your husband is still in training, and only if you let him, he can have a second chance too – a chance to make things right.  Perhaps you can find it in your heart to show him God’s love.  If you can forgive him, you could be an example of God’s love, and show him the right path.”

What’s he trying to say? I wondered.  Does the pastor expect me to act like nothing ever happened?

My head spun as I listened to his words.  By that time, tears poured down his face.

“You didn’t deserve what he did to you, and no one would think ill of you if you left him.  You have every right to do that, if that is your wish.  However, I remember the last words I said to the both of you on your wedding day.  What God has put together let no man take apart.  If you decide to stay to show God’s love and forgiveness, what a witness you could be.” 

We knelt and said a prayer together before he sent me home.  I was never as confused as I was at that time.  That night so many thoughts raced through my mind.  I was still so angry and hurt. Could I really forgive your father?  I never even considered that.  I took out the card the pastor gave me before I left and read it.

‘Love is patient; love is kind.  It does not envy; it does not boast; it is not proud; it does not dishonor others; it is not self-seeking; it is not easily angered; it keeps no record of wrongs.  Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth.  It always protects, always trusts, always hopes; always perseveres.’

I remember when he read that at our wedding.  We also said in sickness and in health till death do us part.  I was getting a learning lesson on life, Lisa.  No, I did nothing wrong, but maybe I really was doing something wrong.  Was I being patient or kind?  Was I not keeping a record of his wrong-doings?

Lisa, I still could not talk to your father when I got home.  I went on through the next week taking care of you, still crying and not eating.  I lost ten pounds in two weeks.  I felt as if I had the good angel and the bad angel on each of my shoulders.  One would tell me to leave him, not give him another chance.  He did not deserve it and I was young enough to find happiness for the
rest of my life.  The good angel reminded me of my wedding vows,and that there was nothing wrong with giving someone a second chance.  That one kept ringing in my head because of what Pastor Clem said about being an example for God.  But what if I gave him another chance and he did the same thing again?  Finally I broke down, called your father and told him we needed to talk.  I had to understand what was going on… so we planned a date
.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Sixteen

Good Memories

Lisa’s Story Continues

 

It was Sunday morning when Lisa was reading the journal in her parents’ room.  She usually went to church with her parents but once she got into college, she missed a lot of Sundays by using the excuse that she had papers to finish.  She put the journal down trying to digest what her mom had written. 

She thought of her friends at school, and when a boyfriend would cheat.  They said the first time was shame on him and the second time – shame on you.  She was never going to let someone use her like that.  She always figured that if Joey cheated on her, she would be gone like a flash of lightening.  Yet her thoughts of him were so familiar and happy.  He was her best friend and made her feel good.  He was smart and never pushy.  He was also so handsome with his long blond hair.  He seemed to know when to talk and when to just be there for her, but her mother put this in such different terms.  It was as if this life was a lesson in learning where we could all make mistakes, and we should be capable of giving or accepting apologies along with a second chance.

It was difficult for her to imagine her father with someone else, and her mother so angry and even full of hatred.  Her mother was the kindest person she had ever known.  Her memories were only good ones with plenty of laughter and love between them.

Lisa remembered the time she visited a nursing home with her mother and talked to some of the old people.  Her mother had made chocolate chip cookies and passed them around as she said hello.  It seemed the older folks liked having a young person visit.  They didn’t even mind Lisa wheeling them around in the halls.  It was scary at first, and the smell was not very nice, but her mom told her that everyone needed a friend sometimes so she tried to be nice and everyone accepted her.      

Lisa decided to call her grandparents – her father’s parents – and they were delighted to hear from her.  With both of her parents gone, she needed to be with them, to feel the warmth and comfort of family around her.  As she dialed their number, she wondered if she should ask them about what her mother had written.  Time with them would tell.

“Is everything all right?” Asked Grandma Jean.

“Yeah, I just miss you guys.  I want to come over and visit if you don’t mind.”

“You know you’re always welcome, Lisa,” she said.  “We’re always happy to see you.”

Lisa jumped into the car and drove to their home.  Her grandparents were in their seventies, still with minds intact and able to walk around with only a few aches and pains to joints.  Grandma Jean had brown hair that she maintained with a little help from Miss Clairol.  She was always busy cooking and working in her garden.  Grandpa Joe was totally bald, had a belly, and was such a wiz with automobiles.  He was always helping the neighbors with their car engines.  She wondered if her dad would have been bald if he had made it to that age. 

When Lisa arrived, Grandma Jean had a pot roast cooking, which gave her that old familiar smell of home.  Of course, the carrots and potatoes in the pot were from her garden.  After hugs hello from grandma and grandpa they pulled out their photo albums, settled on the couch, and went back in time reminiscing about when her dad was a little boy.  Lisa could see her face in her father Michaels’ when he was a child.  They told her once when he was three years old, they thought they lost him, and it took a couple of hours to find him. He had a cute brown haired dog and that day, he decided to take a nap in the doghouse.  If it weren’t for the dog waking up and barking to get their attention, they would not have found him until he woke up.

They talked about old times such as the day Michael first played ball in the backyard and broke the window to the back door with his fastball pitch.  And the time someone tried to take his lunch money and he got expelled from school for fighting.  That day also marked her father’s first black eye.  Lisa saw how her grandparents’ eyes beamed as they bragged about their son.  Grandpa Joe told her about her father taking guitar lessons and how proud he was of Michael when he heard him play. 

“Did you know that your father sold his guitar and amplifier to buy your mother her engagement ring?” Grandpa Joe asked.  

Lisa shook her head no, thinking that was so romantic.

“Yeah, your father was so in love with your mother.  He married her right away so no one else would have a chance to get to know her.”

Then he pulled out her parents’ wedding pictures.

“See how beautiful your mother was?” He asked.

A tear ran down Grandma Jean’s cheek as she relived her son’s wedding.  Lisa had seen the pictures before, but it was so refreshing to hear how happy they were when her dad married her mother.  All Lisa could think of was that she wanted to be that happy when she got married.

Next came pictures of Lisa as a baby.  Her grandparents could not express enough how beautiful she was, and how proud they were of her.

“The day you were born, I cried with your other grandmother at this beautiful baby girl that we were going to be able to spoil,” Grandma Jean said.  “Your mother was not sure what to do the first week you were home.  You cried so much and she was so frustrated.  I told her to relax, that you could feel her anxiousness, and that was why you kept crying.” 

She stopped for a moment and smiled admiring the pictures. 

“Your mother was a good mom and caught on fast about how to take care of you.  It would be so easy if babies came with a step by step manual!” 

Lisa could not help laughing along with her grandmother.

“You know, your mother called me the day you sat up all by yourself.  She was giggling on the phone and so proud of you,” she said.  “She had so much fun putting ribbons in your hair and putting you in lacy dresses.”

Lisa did not think she could ever feel any better than she did reliving her past through her grandparents.

“Then she was so elated when you took your first step,” her grandma continued.  “Your dad took such great pride in how fast you learned to do these things.”     

“Yeah, but that didn’t last long,” Grandpa Joe laughed.  “You got into everything.  You were a little tomboy, and the dresses just got in the way.” 

Lisa really needed to hear all of that.  She felt like her parents were in the same room while she listened to her grandparents stories. It was fun reliving growing up in her grandparents eyes. Yet she was confused as to why no one brought up the fact that her dad cheated on her mom. They had such lovely things to say about both her parents she wasn’t sure how to approach the subject. Had they forgiven him and let the past go?

“Grandma, wasn’t there a time when my parents were not getting along?” Lisa asked.  Grandma Jean’s eyes opened wide and her smile disappeared.

“Yes my dear,” she managed to say. “I didn’t know you knew.” She paused for a second gathering her thoughts. “Your father strayed and hurt your mother very bad. He came back here to live with us, and we were so disappointed in him, that we could not even talk at first.”  A couple of tears slid down her cheeks. “Those are the dark days that we try to forget.” She said as she took her hand and smoothed down the hair on Lisa’s head.  “Your father went to work and moped around the house, he missed your mother so much. But worse of all, he was having trouble forgiving himself. He needed to hear your mom say the magic words, I forgive you.”

“It took a few weeks but then your mother called him and they talked.” She continued. “After their talk he packed his bags and went back home. I don’t think I have ever seen two people more in love. Your mother showed him forgiveness and love. She taught all of us about the power of love as she took him back.”

“You know, Lisa,” Grandpa Joe said, “Sometimes life does not go the way we think it should, and we have to make life decisions that will affect us for the rest of our lives.”  He took Grandma Jeans hand and gave it a squeeze. “We are so proud of both of your parents. They figured out how to have a happy life as they forgave any wrong doings.” 

Grandma Jean picked up a picture of Michael, Natalie, and Lisa. Lisa watched the smile grow on her grandfathers’ face, and the twinkle in her grandmothers’ eyes so full of love. 

“This is how I choose to remember your father and mother, a happy and loving couple.” She gave Lisa a big hug. “Remember in life you have the good with the bad days. We were not promised a rose garden. The good out weighted the bad with your parents, and they made us so proud of them.”

“Well yeah,” interrupted Grandpa Joe, “Plus as a bonus, we have you.”

The evening swiftly passed.  They had dinner together, and then it was time for Lisa to go home.  She felt alive again, rejuvenated and believing in miracles as everything they said echoed in her mind.  Her grandparents had only positive things to say about both of her parents.  They helped her to maintain the belief in happy endings.  The good certainly seemed to far outweigh the bad. After eating dinner she went home in such a good mood.

Lisa went to her bedroom and settled on her bed.  She stared at the stars on her ceiling, smiling and remembering the day she picked out the wallpaper.  She had helped her dad put it up.  He tried to talk her out of it, saying it was really too dark.  Wouldn’t she rather have flowers on the walls and a white ceiling instead of a black ceiling with moons and stars on it? He had asked.  She laughed aloud as she saw herself and her dad putting up the paper after she got her way.  She decided that after a good night’s sleep, she would open the journal and begin reading again.  She was in a much better mood, and felt as if she had forgiven him along with the rest of her family.

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