Something of Value

The very last detail has finally been completed.  There is no more to negotiate.  Nothing left to sign.  We are going our separate ways, literally and figuratively.  But there had to be one last moment.  Always seems to be.  One last opportunity to try to claim his territory.  Can’t possibly go quietly into the sunset, that would mean he is a cowboy and not a child. 

This morning he came to pick up half of our wedding china and crystal.  Sets of items we never used and he never cared enough to look at while they were ours.  On top of that, he asked if I could provide the packing materials, and if I could help him put the items in boxes.  He even had the last minute gall to offer me the whole set…for a fee.  Oh thanks.  Couldn’t have had that discussion ahead of time?

When we’re put into stressful situations, we all tend to show who we really are.  We lose or heighten our filters in the most human version of fight or flight.  In this case, here is someone who, when told he is losing his wife and dog, and any semblance of the life he had begun to take for granted, turns to mommy and money.  His whole plan for taking these shared items is to sell them for “whatever he can get” for himself.  I’d venture a guess that he still couldn’t tell you what the china pattern looks like. 

As I rolled my mind’s eye at this person whose few good qualities no longer redeem him, the universe apparently decided I needed a break.  Though he came with dish/glass specific boxes, he had no tape.  He folded the flaps to create a base, but I warned him before he walked out the door that the bottom looked loose.  He skipped any response and headed into the rain toward his car.  When I peeked out the window, I saw that the ground was littered with the blue-green foam packs protecting his beloved money makers.  Every single dish had hit the ground.  Most likely the combination of bubbled wrapping and rain-softened grass meant there were no casualties, but the grin on my face spread without abandon. 

The china and crystal are just things, pretty and useful sure, but merely possessions.  My life won’t change for having a full formal entertaining set in my new one bedroom apartment.  I probably won’t even have space to seat 12 people at my tiny table.  But when you learn that someone who once held you up on a pedestal, who stood up for you, tried to protect you, will become this petty in the face of adversity, you realize how incredibly over that part of your life is.   


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