As we began the journey through the airport monorail and the labyrinth to ME, I began to internally summarize the events of the past 20 hours. It seemed surreal that we were surrounded by families and couples all heading to the happiest place on earth while I felt like I had just received a death sentence. Each step closer to the check in line meant one more step to the end of the vacation and what I knew could be the end of my marriage.
I was Sean Penn in, "Dead Man Walking," minus the shaved head, IV riddled arm and diaper.
There was also those that were going back home. The ones we all feel sorry for because although they sport the trappings of a Disney vacation, in their overflowing, shades of blue, Disney souvenir bags, their faces have the tell tale signs of, "back to reality." It always went one of two ways with those heading home from a vacation at WDW. There is the father (yes I am being sexist but in my experience it is totally accurate,) who is overjoyed the trip is over and the bank account vacuum has ceased and he can now resume his Saturday morning golf game without being inconvenienced by his family. There also is the family that really loves Disney. Who in spite of a few bumps along the way, made the most out of their time and are sad they won't be enmeshed in ooey gooey Disney love anymore.
I wondered how many of them had just departed a make it or break it trip? How many of them were flying home to meet with their attorneys post haste? Which couples looking haggard, had one to many moments for honest reflection and wondered, "What am I doing here and who is this person a band on my finger tells me I am supposed to stay with?"
Derrick asked me if I wanted to part ways and do the usual, I said yes because I was too numb to think of anything witty and not desperate to say. Our "usual," was me to the ME check in and he to baggage claim and meet back up at the end of ME to enter the line for our hotel bus. Normally I am fine. Independent. The least needy person you know. This time I was thinking, "What if this is just a ruse to get us apart and he is planning a vacation all by himself and once he has his suitcase, will be heading to a rental car and I will be standing like a hitchhiker next to the sign for Boardwalk Inn, all by myself?"
Amazing isn't it, what your mind will do to cause you anxiety in an already stressful situation? I mean he had never done anything cold and calculated in all the years we had known each other and so my paranoia at the surface seemed more than slightly neurotic. He also had never sent me an e-mail saying he felt like he was treading water in our marriage. That he felt we had no direction and that I was content to drift when he wanted to have his sights set on land. Something permanent. Something about us and not our careers, promotions or tangible assets. He had eloquently described how he married to have a home not a house and the magazines on our coffee table were supposed to have pictures of children on them and instead he flips through the latest Cosmo tip for this Fall's premier, must have fashions rather than best BBQ brunches.
So with hyper sensitivity to each minute that passed, I waited for him to return. For him to appear through the crowd, skillfully maneuvering the rolling suitcases as if they were a high performance car. Never banging into his own ankles, or awkwardly excusing himself after slamming into a man business bound and merely toting overnight luggage. Derrick could always do with ease the things my clumsy limbs managed to screw up.
The woman behind me brought me back to the present by asking if I would please move ahead in the line. I blinked hard and realized several people had checked in while I had been checking out. There was that obvious distance between myself and the person in front of me. The space that explains to anyone within sight, that Skippy might have left the jar on the Peanut Butter, a bit off center. That even the norms of line responsibility might be too much for them. Or that they are just so captured by their own life, that they cannot pay attention.
I wondered which one she thought applied to me?
The woman checking us in had her and her coworkers ration of Red Bull that morning. She was chipper and alert and blinking at me like she could pop a contact at any moment. Having just had my marriage assessment handed to me on a tarnished platter the night before, I was not happy to be swallowed by her enthusiasm. On any normal vacation, the excitement would have been contagious. I would have made a mental note of why, I love all things Disney. This time, she was not what I wanted. She also did not read my body language that surely would have warranted fear of bodily injury if she did not take it down a peg or two on her "Susie Sunshine," octave scale. She was thorough though. And fast. Her hyper-drive was the reason I had been lost in space earlier and how I was processed in less than 3 minutes.
I waited by the white placard with my laptop, purse and boarding passes. It was probably 5 minutes later that Derrick did appear, apologizing for making me wait but he had helped a woman load her luggage onto a cart because her husband was too busy to help due to a need for nicotine. He shook his head in disgust as he explained the scene and how he could not just let this woman and her four children, most who appeared under the age of six he thought, grapple 50 pound suitcases alone.
The pang in my heart at his rendition was literally causing cramps to ricochet off my stomach walls. This was not a hero moment for Derrick. This was not a moment where he looked for praise or accolades. It was a typical story on an ordinary day and I had heard and witnessed hundreds more just like it in our lives together. He was always the husband amongst our friends who was the last in the kitchen after a dinner party because he felt a man's place is with his wife and if that means doing dishes, than so be it. Consistently he would volunteer for an airport run or grocery trip for a sick friend. He was just the type of man who never forgot what it was supposed to mean to be a gentleman and that is rare. I knew it and I wondered if we did not salvage our future, what my chances were of ever finding that again?
We slipped into the line and had only a few minutes before we were asked to proceed outside and board the bus. We were lucky enough to get the bus that had the confetti pattern decorating the seats. The one that shows the prelude movie about what you will experience and gets your sensations ready for Mickey and his friends. We did sit side by side and due to closer quarters, I was able to feel the rhythm of his breaths as his arm ever so gently, rose and fell. I tried to match mine to his but my heart was beating much faster and thus my inhales were deeper and I could never quite get it right.
He noticed I was concentrating on something and asked what it was? I felt silly and deliberated being honest because my fear of rejection often outweighed my sense of right. I told him though and when I looked up at him to see his reaction, he had a kindness in his expression I will love him forever for. He was not laughing or mocking me. He did not think I was childish or immature. It was the look of someone who knows they matter and as I write this, I am tearing up because it had been a long time since I had seen that. His eyes narrowed softly until the glimmer of green and the specks of hazel were barely visible and he breathed in slowly, as if to savor my description and roll it around his palate like a fine wine. He tilted his head back and rested it on his seat and concentrated on the moment.
When he finally ventured back to my eyes, he also noticed that I was rubbing my leg, just above the knee, with my right thumb. It was something I unconsciously had always done when I am nervous, scared or caught up in my head about something I could not explain. He, carefully moved his left hand to rest on top of my right and gently tapped my knuckles twice and then did not lift it off but merely rested it there. He softly leaned in to my ear and said, "Thank you for trying to connect with me."
His words sounded like an orchestral masterpiece at that moment. Nothing needed to be added and the taps to my hand had meant more than anything he could have ever bought me. It had been a long time since I felt those and within seconds I was transported to a college library and the smell of paper, must and leather bound covers swaddled me. We were 22 again, the end of our senior year approaching and I had been worried about our future and us and where we would get jobs or if we would indeed, be together. I had finals to cram for and a thesis to write and I had not eaten in days anything that did not resemble coffee grounds.
We had been at a large mahogany table with both of our books strewn from one end to the other and what belonged to whom was not very apparent. I could not concentrate and I was getting more and more frustrated and it had nothing to do with what I was supposed to be studying. Derrick had taken his hand and placed it on top of mine, just like he had done on that bus. He had softly tapped twice and waited for me to notice. I did not at first and so he did it again. Then again. And again. Thinking he had lost his mind and wondering how he could want to act out some sort of Morse code game, I got frustrated and asked him just to tell me what he wanted.
I will never forget what he said and I can play back every moment in my head like it was on constant rewind. He leaned in and told me, "Whenever you doubt what really matters and where we are and what I feel for you I want you to think about this and just know that you are the mate to my soul. Not just for today but for always. Whenever we are together and I see you doubting us or yourself I will tap you on the hand twice and that will be our pact, our connection, our dedication."
He had pressed his lips to my ear then and whispered so softly I imagined the wisp of air a hummingbird would make with the single flap of a wing and tapped my hand again twice as he said,
"For always."
I'm in!
Can't wait for more.....
