a tale of two cities
The other day my colleague’s wife died.
It was sudden.
It was tragic.
I felt it.
What was interesting to me was the conversation that followed.
Three guys.
guy #1 pointed out that it must be hard to wake up with someone every day and then one day for them to just be gone.
guy #2 balked at the notion and said that within a week he would be over it.
guy #3 said, “You know what they say: the quickest way to get over one woman is to get under another.”
True story.
The conversation devolved quickly into hypotheticals about how guy #1 would actually handle a similar situation versus how he claimed he would.
I didn’t say a word, just listened and smiled, as I often do.
Many of you can probably guess the relationship status of each guy by their given response. Let’s see if you are right:
guy #1 is happily married going on some 20 plus years. His emphasis seemed to be on the habitual nature of the relationship, that it defined such a major portion of his life. It would not be an easy thing to lose. He is quoted as saying, “Do you know what it is to have someone call you every day for 27 years and ask you, ‘Honey, what do you want for dinner?’”
guy #2 is a career bachelor who seemed to think attachment to that level was just a burden. He quite succinctly stated that something like what guy #1 was describing was something he didn’t want, citing instead that on any given morning he gets his own inquiries about what he wants for breakfast.
guy #3 is happily divorced and though he came out the gate strong about getting under another woman, he was mostly quiet throughout the exchange. It was difficult to tell if it was nostalgia or boredom that kept him quiet, though.
My thoughts struggled to follow the train of the discussion. I am at heart a romantic, so my position mostly mirrored guy #1 but I felt the perspective of each guy as they shared them.
I marveled at the fact that while a colleague and, for some, a friend, was experiencing probably one of the most difficult times of his life, these guys were arguing about the frivolity of the relationship on no other grounds but their own perspective.
A former instructor likes to use the phrase, ‘it was a tale of two cities’ before telling one of his many stories used for examples. This phrase kept coming to mind when I pondered this exchange.
When I first heard the news, my thoughts kept drifting to the last conversation I had with this colleague. We were talking about marriage, ironically enough. He told me the story of how and why he divorced his first wife; and, while I knew he was divorced, I didn’t know the details. He then proceeded to tell me about his new marriage, which surprised me because I didn’t know he had remarried. It was one of those weird, too personal conversations you never intended to have, but end up having and are better for it.
He had experienced some bad breaks in life, the first marriage being one of them; but he seemed to love his new wife. After the story, he decided to give me some unsolicited advice, as older folk tend to do. His advice to me was a mixed pot of age-old wisdom based in experience and fresh sentimentality. His story and advice made my morning; and I was happy for him, and myself, after the exchange. That’s actually why it hit me so hard.
My heart still aches a bit when I think about this colleague and what he must be going through, but truthfully, I can’t say he isn’t experiencing any one of the above guy perspectives just based on my limited interaction with him. To assume his devastation is to make the same mistake the guys make in judging his situation from their perspective.
The varied perspectives make me confront the harsh reality that I don’t truly know how I would react if faced with a similar situation. I’d like to think that I would be devastated, but my imagination isn’t powerful enough to evoke a genuine response from me.
Additionally, the complexity of life makes it so that, if I am honest, there is a nugget of truth for me in each perspective.
© Ryan J. Pearce 2022
