Arriving home from work, my house was dark and empty, just as it had been every night for the last two years. Rather than go inside, I sat in one of the comfortable wicker chairs that I had on my porch, looking out over the familiar landscape before me, and reflected on my loneliness. My life had not always been this way, and was once filled with love and happiness. Not that long ago, my home had been filled with kids and laughter, and a wife whom I adored. Now, my home was empty and dark, filled with silence and loneliness. As I did every evening, I watched the day fade away, and reflected on the path that had led me to this pit of despair.
Like many people, I had married right after high school. Lisa and I were the perfect couple, madly in love and seemingly made for each other. At least for the first few years, that is pretty much how it was. We did everything together. We read the same books, enjoyed the same movies, and had the same friends. We made love often and with great variety, and cherished our time together. Our relationship was admired and envied by many.
In the natural course of events, we had children. First, a boy who we named Nathan. He was all boy, always on the run, always testing his limits. He excelled at everything that he tried, from sports to academics. He was followed by a sister, Wendy. Wendy was the quiet one, always thinking, never in a hurry. Once she made up her mind, you had best get out of her way, but she would never be pushed into anything before she was ready. Wendy also excelled in school, but had little interest in sports. Finally came Sarah, our last. Sarah was our socialite, making friends with ease and always accompanied by a gaggle of followers. She was not the most academic, but her people skills were off the chart.
As our kids grew, and, of course, dominated our lives, Lisa and I began to grow apart. I didn't think much of it, thinking that it was part of the natural progression that relationships go through when lives are consumed by raising children and pursuing careers. We were both happy, but found that we spent more time apart than together, while our interests began to change. By the time Nathan graduated from high school and joined the Navy, our love making had dwindled from the several times a week in our early years to a few times a year.
2 years later, Wendy graduated and went off to college in another state, on a full academic scholarship. With only one child left at home, our lives began to quiet down, but we still seemed to be moving in different orbits. By this time, we rarely made love, and found few interests in common. Our house was rarely empty, though, as Sarah always seemed to have friends over. Some of her friends seemed to spend more time at our house than at their own, not surprising considering how many kids these days have single parents or dysfunctional families at home. I accepted the role of surrogate father to some of Sarah's friends, and they all knew that they could call me at any time if they needed help, or even just a ride home.
When Sarah graduated, she also headed off to college, although an instate school only a half days drive away. I loaded her things in my truck and drove her to the city, where she already had an apartment with two friends for roommates. After getting her settled, I headed back home to our now empty nest. When I arrived home, Lisa was waiting for me. Her bags were packed, and she informed me that she had accepted a promotion and was transferring back east to be near her mother. I was stunned, but after talking it over we both admitted that we had little in common anymore. Now that the kids were gone, neither of us could offer any reason to stay together. We agreed to part as friends, and arranged for an attorney friend to handle the details. She left that night.
Two days later, her company sent a moving van to pack up her stuff. I let her take most of the furniture and household goods, while I kept the appliances and my personal things. Over the next few months, we sold our home and divided the property, all through our attorney. To this day, I have not seen or spoken to Lisa since that day when Sarah went away to college. That was two years ago.
After the divorce was final, I took my part of the property settlement and bought a small farm house in the country. The house was old and worn, but had a great view of the countryside from the front porch. It also sat at the end of the road, offering the quiet solitude I desired. With 50 fast approaching, my kids out of the nest, and the only woman that I had ever loved gone, I felt empty and hollow. My entire life had revolved around marriage and family, and now I had neither, or so I felt. For the first time since I was a kid, I had no idea where I was headed.
I kept busy, filling my time with work and fixing up the house. Most of my friends were married, and, while they kept in touch, I no longer fit in with their couple's activities. I did have a good job that I enjoyed, working as a manager at an engineering firm. My job provided not only income, but a much needed focal point for my life. With little else to distract me, I threw myself into my work. My bosses and coworkers praised my work, but also tried to steer me back into a social life. Oh, I did try dating, but my heart just wasn't in it, and I eventually stopped trying. My life became work, and working on the house. Nothing else mattered. Even my kids noticed, and over time their phone calls and visits became less frequent. I became comfortable in my solitude. Intellectually, I knew this was unhealthy, but I could not muster the desire to change. I rejected all attempts to help, claiming that I was fine, while I sank deeper into despair.
So, here I sat on my porch, watching the sun set. I enjoyed sunsets, for they marked the end of another day of emptiness while mirroring how I felt about my life. "Breathe deep the gathering gloom..." went the old Moody Blues song. "Watch lights fade from every room." I now lived my life for today, rarely planning beyond tomorrow, and could never shake the feeling of gathering gloom. Well, I thought, "another day's useless energy is spent." Tomorrow was Saturday, and the beginning of a long weekend. The back porch needed some repair, and the yard needed mowing. Enough to get me through another day. I was still planning the day when life threw me a curve.
My phone rang. I looked at the display, and did not recognize the number. I frowned, and considered ignoring it, but decided that I had nothing better to do, so I hit Send and said hello.
"Mr. D?" came the voice, somehow familiar.
"Yes, this is Mr. Daniels." I answered. I heard a sob on the other end, and voices in the background. "Mr. D, this is Jenny. Jenny McPherson, Sarah's friend. I am sorry to call you, but I need help, and I couldn't think of anyone else to call." The pain in her voice was clear over the phone.
"Yes, Jenny, of course I remember you. Are you all right?"
