"Bless me Father, for I have sinned, and I wish I could die!" I wailed into the darkness.
Before I could stop crying, the door to my confessional was opened and Father McKenzie stood over me. He offered his hand to me as he spoke.
"Come with me, Eleanor, please. We need more time and privacy than this confessional can offer. Come with me to my office."
I allowed him to lead me to the front of the dark, lonely church. Then he opened a door to a small room with files and a desk. I sat in the chair he offered and slowly began to compose myself. Finally, the tears stopped and I was able to speak.
"Father McKenzie, I cheated on Ted. He caught me with another man!" I blurted. "Now Ted hates me and asked for a divorce. I want to die!"
"Ted caught you in the act, so to speak, Eleanor?" asked the ancient priest. At my nod he continued.
"Did Ted physically abuse you? Or verbally? Or sexually, when he caught you?" he queried. I shook my head.
"What exactly did Ted do?" questioned Father McKenzie.
"He looked like someone had just plunged a dagger into his heart. Then he quickly walked away. He never said anything, Father. I would have felt better if he had beaten me," I confessed. "I certainly deserved it."
"Was it the next time that you saw Ted that he told you he hated you and asked for a divorce?" prodded the priest.
"Well, no. The next time I saw him was when the car I was in drove into the flooded stream and I was swept away by the floodwaters. I was ready to give up when Ted caught me," I answered, remembering every detail of that dramatic day. "Ted hoisted me up to some men on a bridge as we passed under it. He saved my life, after he had just caught me cheating a few minutes before!"
"I believe I heard about that flooded stream and Ted's heroism," Father McKenzie replied. "I understand his arm was badly broken and your older daughter practically dragged him out of the stream by herself. That was about a week ago, wasn't it?"
"It was six days ago; the longest six days of my life. Ted met with a lawyer while he was in the hospital and had him draw up divorce papers. He gave them to me the morning after he came home," I sobbed. "He told me he used to think I was too good for him, but now he realizes it is he that is too good for me. He wants a divorce. He hates me."
"I see," Father McKenzie nodded as he spoke. "Ted hates you. He jumped into a flooded stream and risked his life to save his horrible, cheating, unfaithful wife. While in the hospital, doped up on all kinds of drugs and in great pain, he made the decision to ask you for a divorce. Did he tell you he hated you?"
"Ted never used those words, but I know he does! How could he not? He would never ask for a divorce if he didn't," I reasoned.
"You thought Ted should accept being a cuckold? You thought that would be demonstrating his love for you?" continued the old cleric. "You thought if he loved you he would accept you sleeping with other men? Is that what you thought when you were being unfaithful to Ted? He should accept everything you do and not complain, and certainly not ask for a divorce?"
"No!" I practically shouted. "I knew Ted would never accept me having an affair! I just never thought about him finding out. I would never hurt him deliberately."
"Excuse me for appearing dense, Eleanor, but how in the world could you think that betraying your husband, your daughters and your entire family, would not hurt Ted? Did you take precautions against disease and pregnancy?" demanded the priest.
I had not expected such a difficult time with Father McKenzie. He had been a family friend, as well as the local priest, for as long as I could remember. He performed the ceremony when Ted and I were married. He had always been kind, gentle, and non-judgmental. Now he seemed to be almost as horrified as Ted had been. Had I made another mistake by confiding in him?
I was not on the pill, so Dan had used a condom. I felt relieved and ashamed at the same time. Somehow it made me feel more guilt, knowing we planned ahead enough to have protection. I pushed that from my mind and spoke to the old man before me.
"Looking back, of course it had to hurt him. There could be no other result," I admitted. "I just blocked those thoughts from my mind when I was with the other man. I just wanted to have a little fling, to prove I was still a desirable woman, and not some old hag."
"Had Ted been less than attentive sexually? Perhaps you felt short-changed by Ted," suggested the priest. "Is he lacking as a lover? Is he possibly not equipped to give you the pleasure you seek in bed? Is he selfish or rough?"
"No! Ted is a wonderful lover. He is very virile, but considerate. His 'equipment' works just fine, Father."
"Perhaps he leaves much to be desired as a provider and as a father to your daughters," countered the old priest in a very irritating manner. "Are you looking for someone that will take better care of you and the girls?"
"Ted is the best husband and father you will ever find!" again I practically yelled. "He supports us extremely well. The girls adore him. I could never find his equal, let alone someone better!"
"No reason to be upset with me, Eleanor," replied Father McKenzie. "I am just trying to determine why you have given up on Ted. Where has he failed that you are willing to end your marriage?"
"I am not willing to end our marriage. He is the one asking for the divorce, not me!" I shot back in desperation.
"You want to stay married and just have lovers from time to time, or do you want to have one long term lover?" questioned the once kindly priest.
"Damn it! I don't want any lovers, ever. I just want Ted to love me! He is all the lover, husband, father and friend I could ever want! Why is that so hard for you to understand?" I exploded.
"The question, I think, should be why has it been so difficult for you to understand, Eleanor?" responded Father McKenzie softly.
I just sat there, too numb to respond. That was the question! Why didn't I realize I had it all, the whole enchilada? Why had I betrayed everyone that I loved, and that loved me, for a fling with a conceited, self-centered jackass?
"Father, do you think I am mentally ill? Could that be why I did such an awful thing? Maybe I should just join an order of nuns and go to some far away place to work with AIDS victims. That would cleanse my soul of sin, wouldn't it?" I asked.
"If you left your family to do that, I would think you are mentally ill. God isn't looking for people that want to torture themselves. People do those things to help others, not as some sick kind of self-determined retribution, or punishment!" preached Father McKenzie. "Come with me for a minute, Eleanor."
I followed him to the door as he stood just beyond it. He pointed to the two-dozen or so people sitting in the church, praying.
"Look at all the lonely people, Eleanor. See Mr. Peak over there? His wife was extremely over-weight. She had diabetes, high blood pressure, and very bad circulation, but that did not stop her from eating everything in sight! She had a massive stroke and died at age 43. He is alone and heart-broken."
"Look at Tom Fiona in front. Every day he comes here and begs God to forgive him for hitting a minivan and hurting two small children, while he was driving drunk. Every night he goes out drinking and drives home! His wife left him years ago and his kids won't speak to him," observed the clergyman.
"To the left is Mrs. Martin. She is a widow at 49. Her husband smoked two packs a day. He died from cancer last year," revealed the old priest.
"The fellow in the last pew is always trying to score oxycontin, except when he is here, in the church. Just two rows in front of him is a woman that has shared needles with every addict within 100 miles. Take a good look. I want you to know where all the lonely people come from! They, or their loved ones, made bad decisions, very bad decisions," he concluded.
"That is the human condition, Eleanor. People mess up all the time, but some learn from their mistakes and some don't. It isn't mental illness so much as it's human frailty. Compared to a fatal stroke from selfishly being a glutton for forty years, driving drunk and hurting others, smoking two packs a day and getting cancer, or risking aids, hepatitis, and/or jail, your offense is minor. There is a chance it can be rectified. That will depend on you, what you have learned, and what you are made of," stated Father McKenzie.
He led me back inside the office and again sat me down. I was trying to absorb everything this wise old man was telling me.
"Frankly, Eleanor, I honestly wonder if you have what it takes. You have always been on top. You've always been a winner. You haven't had to work and struggle when all appeared to be lost. You are being tested, and thus far, you have failed. You yielded to temptation."