My father and I were out for an evening walk in the affluent suburb of Houston he lives in. He was pointing out houses of his friends when we came to a large, modern house with a big picture window in the living room.
There was an old man sitting by himself. My dad kind of shook his head and
continued walking.
“You know him, don’t you?”
My father looked at me and nodded.
“Yeah, he was married to the same woman for over thirty years. They both had
high paying jobs and seemed happy.”
We continued walking.
“But, he decided he didn’t want to be married anymore.”
I chuckled.
“Young girlfriend?”
My dad shook his head.
“Not apparently. He just said he didn’t want to have to answer to a wife
anymore.”
He looked at me a minute before he continued as we walked around the block.
“Was the wife upset? Crying? Anything?”
My dad continued.
“I didn’t really know her. I’d met her. I didn’t see or hear anything about
crying or screaming. The kids were grown and living up north. She didn’t need
him for support. Money wasn’t an issue.”
We were coming around back to my dad’s house.
“So, the assets were divided amicably. They owned two houses. She took one. He
took this one. They had their own retirement and inheritances. Lawyers were
hired. Papers were signed. She said goodbye and moved on.”
My dad grinned at me.
“Turns out the old coot did have someone in mind.”
I smirked.
“Figures.”
“Twenty nine. Blonde, way too good looking for him. He’d been seeing her for
years.”
I was thinking about the fact that he was alone on that couch. My dad
continued.
“Bought her a new Jag. Clothes, jewelry, took her on trips. I went to a New
Years Eve party they threw. She wore something to show off her new tits.”
We were getting ready to go into the house.
“So where is she?”
“He got cancer. Chemo, radiation and sick all the time. Took her about three
months.”
We both looked down the street where you could see the blue wash of television
light in his yard.
“So now he’s alone. If he had stayed married he would have somebody next to him
on that couch. Somebody bringing him soup. Driving him to his appointments.
Telling him she loved him. That she was right there with him.”
My dad opened the door to his house and turned back to me.
“Then, the cancer went into remission and the poor son-of-a-bitch didn’t die.”
This is a true story. Keep it in mind when you’re thinking about trading in your wife on a newer model.
James Monkres
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