Enough to Miss Christmas

"What would have you accomplished with your life if you hadn't married early?" he asked.

"I would have attended college. I always wanted to teach and be around children. I was granted what I wanted, but I had to find you to get it."

"It's too bad you couldn't have children. It might have helped your marriage."

"My marriage was unsalvageable. But I do regret not giving birth."

"You were sure it wasn't your husband's fault?"

"Absolutely. I desperately wanted children but it was me. There was a rumor he fathered a child before I met him and he never denied it. I went through tests and exams but the results were negative. The doctors said it was for the best because I was too small and even if I could get pregnant it would be dangerous; I'd definitely need a caesarian but even with that procedure giving birth would be life threatening"

"That dangerous?" Paul asked.

"So they said, but I didn't care. That's how much I wanted kids. Now I have the greatest two children in the world and no regrets." I clinked my glass against his.

Paul was a patient listener and when I'd finished, he apologized for holding back, and not sooner describing his first venture into marital bliss. His experience was far less blissful than I'd imagined.

"It was unfair letting that painting hanging over our fireplace in Newton be your only reference to Carol."

"I admit it was intimidation. She was movie-star beautiful."

"Only in her face and body. She was a difficult person most of the time."

"Paul, you don't have to do this. Just because big-mouth me ripped up Doug doesn't mean you're obligated to discuss Carol."

"You have a right to know. I don't talk about her because I don't want to color the kid's memory of her, especially Karen's. Thinking of her mother, if not as a saint, at least a nicer person than she was is good for her. Carol was a selfish woman who was overly interested in the material. She thought of herself, first and foremost. Bigger and more opulent was what she wanted. I'm sure your Dr. Mason would say she was insecure and needy. Whatever the reason, it didn't make for a happy marriage. She was constantly finding fault and needing more."

"Was that always the case?"

Paul shrugged. "I suppose so. I may have been blind to some of her faults early on but there weren't many truly happy times. She didn't want children and then she did; because it was socially acceptable, not because of any maternal needs. Care of both kids was delegated from the outset. You don't have to say it; I continued that practice far longer than I should have after she died."