Sex? No

Sex? No.

Image Worshiper series #2

“Woman driver.” “Just like a Man.” That’s a teen for you.” Without knowing the individual to whom these snap judgments refer, a host of behaviors crystallize. Frequently these generalizations are negative or worse don’t apply. A complex being is reduced to a simplified image, an experience with which Joseph, in my novel, Baggage burdens. endured.

According to Jill, her husband, Joseph, is a man, but not just an ordinary man. Jill’s image of a man grew out of her father’s behavior. He controlled his wife, his money, and his two daughters. That control turned dangerous when he came home from work after a few hours in the bar. Then he was loud and frequently violent.

Jill married Joseph because he wasn’t like her father. Joseph didn’t consume alcohol. Also he didn’t have a beard or smoke like her father. She explained she cringed when a person raised their voice, or moved and unexpectedly touched her. For the most part Joseph respected her wishes. He kept his hands to himself and never yelled. But in Jill’s mind Joseph was still a man. And men were like her father. And he would never have control over her.

Jill also knew once Joseph’s hands experienced the joy of her body he wouldn’t stop. He’d seek her like a hungry wolf. That impulse she’d control.

However, Jill looked forward to being a mother. That meant making a baby, an activity she enjoyed. But once she knew she was pregnant, there’d be no more sex. Not only “no sex” until the birth, but for months after. She often stretched the months to a minimum of two years. One excuse she used was that carrying the baby and nursing drained her. Jill succeeded in limiting Joseph’s sexual appetite, although it wasn’t always easy.

Shortly after their wedding Jill realized that the shy quiet man she married had a dormant insatiable sexual appetite. She found his persistent efforts unexpected and overwhelming. Because of the cold and snow, housebound Joseph stole every moment he could to catch her in the bedroom or call her over to the love seat by the fireplace so he could enjoy her body. His cheerful pursuit, while flattering at first, became annoying.

A few times while she washed dishes, he would trap her at the sink. She was the dish he wanted to dry. Both hands worked all over her. Once she deliberately dropped a dinner plate saying he distracted her. Cleaning the mess broke his amorous mood. She thought Joseph took her ducking his advances as a game, a matching of wits. When he won, she was his prize.

‘I’m pregnant. Relief!’ Joseph’s desire not to disturb the birth of their child enabled Jill to reduce his amorous attention to her comfort level. After Daniel’s birth, she stretched her celibacy by claiming her body needed time to adjust. Later Jill employed strategies like Daniel’s feeding time or being first to rush off when he started to cry. Even pretending she heard Daniel cry worked for a while. 

“Jill, what’s wrong? Tell me. I’m your husband. Tell me what’s wrong.” Joseph tries to draw her to him, but she resists.

Crawling out of her past Jill stands confused. Dave is not before her. There is no Greg. But Joseph is standing before her and there’s blood running down the side of his face. ‘I must have hit him. And now he’s asking me what’s wrong. What did he do that’s wrong?’

Geared to blame Dave, to blame Greg, Jill stands silent. ‘Have I just wrongly blamed Joseph?’ The past violation refuses to leave. Her only solution is to blame Joseph, but for what? Then she knows, but hesitates.

Wrong. Wrong. The word shouts at Jill over and over until she concludes the only way to stop it was to spit out the parasite that has been gnawing at her since she lost Christine.

“Wrong! I’ll tell you what’s wrong! You! You’re wrong! You can’t keep you hands off me. You can’t leave me alone. If you would’ve left me alone last Christmas maybe later I would have been more able to carry our new baby. But no, you couldn’t wait. You can never wait.”

 “Well Miss Self Reliant. Letting your secrets slip out now are we.”  The accusing deep familiar male voice frightens Jill. Her hands shoot up to protect her chest as if someone stripped her nightgown away. A cold sweat clutches her. She shivers.  

The unwanted voice from her past challenges again.

“Don’t play innocent with me. You know very well what secrets. You finally revealed to Joseph that you blame him for the loss of Christine.” 

Jill mounts no defense. She knows she’s guilty of planning to unload the attack on Joseph when he became too clingy.

No sex. Ah-h-h. Have  heart!

After briefly greeting his children as they eat their oatmeal, Joseph follows Jill to the cupboard. From behind he rests his hands on her housecoat, then slides them to her hips.

“Great party last night,” says Joseph.

Jill agrees.

“Even better morning.” Joseph peeks around to see her face.

She flashes a smile.

“Should make that a yearly tradition.”

Silence greets his suggestion.

“Maybe even a monthly event.” Joseph brushes the hair from the side of her face and plants a quick kiss. Before she can comment, he takes his bowl of porridge to the table.

‘Oh no! He’s changed his mind about moving downstairs!’

Throughout the week the affectionate attention Joseph lavishes on her blinds him from seeing an occasional cringe spurred by his unexpected touches.

Intending to spark a reminder that it is time for Joseph to move to his downstairs bedroom, Jill purchases a bathroom lock for her bedroom door. She sets it on her dresser in plain sight thinking Joseph will ask her about it. He does Saturday morning. Jill explains. "It is to be put on when you move downstairs. Just in case you forget and come to the wrong room at night.”

haiku capsule

                                                                            man stereotyped

                                                         trapped in another’s image

lost personality

Next blog: Reflections: No sex! Are you kidding?

Joseph's Cross

Joseph’s Cross

Image Worshiper series #1

Joseph, in my novel, Baggage burdens., is a man of faith. He took the following Bible passages seriously:

Wives, submit to your husbands as to the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, . . . . (Ephesians 5: 22, 23)

He (a husband) must manage his own family well and see that his children obey him with proper respect. (If anyone does not know how to manage his own family, how can he take care of God’s church?)  (1 Timothy 3:4, 5)

If anyone does not provide for his relatives, and especially for his immediate family, he had denied the faith and is worse that an unbeliever. (1 Timothy 5:8)

Joseph had no intention of failing to provide for his family, particularly for Jill. At times Jill’s behavior, dictated by her own upbringing, frequently challenged Joseph’s ability to care for her. Because Jill didn’t fully share her problems with her husband, Joseph often scrambled for solutions.  

Did Joseph learn the expectations of a husband from examples set by his father or grandfather or from the church’s teaching? Maybe Joseph’s love for Jill compelled him to act when he saw Jill wasn’t her normal happy energetic self. Either way, his love or responsibility for caring for Jill, his cross, felt too heavy. Frequently he sought advice from Thomas and Rebecca, his faith neighbours who were like family to him. They often rescued him. Joseph’s strategy added to the weight of his cross, as the examples below show.

    Jill’s face turns red. “Do you really want to know what the problem is?”

Jill’s voice forces Joseph to glance around the half full restaurant. Turning to Jill he firmly answers yes.

Jill leans forward and whispers. “When I am with Rebecca, I feel like a moron. Are you satisfied?”

The revelation catches Joseph off guard. He debates pushing any further. Taking her whispered response and her leaning forward as a sign that she doesn’t want to make a scene, he continues. “No. I don’t understand why a person who’s been so supportive . . .”

“That’s exactly why,” interrupts Jill. “She so good at everything. She’s such a good friend, such a good hostess, such a good cook, and such a good mother. I can’t compete. I can’t even come close.” 

“You don’t have to compete . . .”

“And if I don’t, will you ever come to me for advice instead of running to Rebecca? I’m tired of you asking her to come and help me like I’m a child. Before I know it you’re going to ask her to help me take care of my children.” Jill glances around the room to see if her raised voice is attracting attention. “Can we leave now?” Without waiting for an answer, she slides across the booth seat; puts on her scarf and overcoat.

 “My confusion stems from the fact that lately I’ve frequently misread you. As a result there’ve been many times I’ve been reluctant to talk to you. Literally, I’m afraid of how you’ll react. Somehow I do or say something that plunges you into a state of withdrawal. But last night was much more than withdrawal. Last night you lost complete control. I don’t even know if you realize what you said.” 

Joseph pauses, expecting a reaction from Jill. None comes. Uncertain if Jill is exercising patience or slipping into a depressive state again he continues. “The doctor said when a woman loses a baby she may experience bouts of depression.” 

Jill’s nod confirms she heard the same thing from the hospital doctor. Jill sits looking below the pocket level on Joseph’s shirt.

“I know you were pretty broken up when you returned from the hospital. But I felt that after our little talk before Christmas things were improving. At Amber’s birthday party I hoped I’d see a little of the Jill I married, but you seemed just to be going through the motions, like it was some kind of job you had to do. Be patient, Rebecca told me. So I tried.”

‘Rebecca again? Always Rebecca. I thought he said he’d quit running to her for every little thing. Who all has he been talking to? Who else thinks I’m totally messed up?’

haiku capsule

                                                                            head of family

                                                         hard job for a man alone

without a wife’s help

Next blog: Image Worshipers –Sex––NO

FAMILY––Best Source of Comfort

Family

Best Source of Comfort

Comfort series #3

In my novel, Baggage burdens. the death of Joseph’s Uncle Mike hits Joseph very hard. Mike died unmarried. While Joseph and Mike had spent a short time together, Joseph had eagerly nourished Mike’s ambitious dreams for his farm.

As oldest child Mike learned his parent’s values of love your neighbor, love nature and hard work. So did Joseph, who was also raised by Mike’s parents, after Joseph’s parents died in a car accident. Upon Mike’s death Joseph inherited Mike’s farm, his dog, Butch, and Mike’s dreams for the farm. Joseph lived far away from his grandparents. He was young and new to farming. He only had Butch for company and Mike’s friend and neighbor, Thomas, for a coach. Butch died two years after Mike died. While Thomas provided the farming know-how for Joseph, he wasn’t a cultivator of dreams. Needing supportive human companionship Joseph found Jill. At first she shared his excitement for developing the farm. They married. As time past, her interest in Joseph’s dreams evaporated. To whom could Joseph turn for inspiration and strength? 

Joseph chose an old oak tree; one Mike planted near his house. The tree served as an inspiration for Mike. Its new growth encouraged Mike to strive to develop his farm. He told Joseph that the tree’s growth is a sign that God loves him. As God nourishes the tree, He also nourishes his work on the farm.”   

As some people ascribe personality traits to their pet and then experience comfort, Joseph did the same with his uncle’s tree. He saw the tall oak tree as his uncle who proudly looked over him as Joseph worked and harvested his garden. Mike’s message to Joseph through the tree was, “Be brave, dream big and work hard. You’ll make your plans a reality.”

The tree served not only as a connection to his uncle but also a source of comfort and strength. After Joseph sold his farm, he returned to see his old friend. (below)

 Turning, Joseph sees what most convinced him to accept Martin’s invitation to come over for a visit––Mike’s twenty-five-foot oak tree. Near it, with its white arms reaching for the sky like a person being held up by a robber is Joseph’s companion weeping birch. Their histories wash over him like the air propelled from an oscillating fan. Joseph drifts back to the time when he and his Uncle Mike farmed together. Footsteps from behind break into Joseph’s reverie. A quick glance reveals Amber approaching.

‘Back already!’ Behind her the movement of Sarah and Martin at the patio table briefly registers but does little to stir Joseph.

When Amber stands beside her father, he points to the two trees and water dripping from the leaves. “See.” He pauses. “They’re crying. They’re happy to see me.”

Amber looks at the glistening water droplets falling from the leaves.

“They miss me.” Joseph’s voice is so low that Amber has to check to see what causes her father’s unexpected response. Little droplets trace down his face.

“You’re right Dad,” she says quietly, wrapping her arm around her father’s waist. ‘You miss them too,’ she thinks, wishing she could be more of a comfort. Her father’s story about Mike planting the oak tree flashes back.

Joseph’s wiping of a tickling tear reminds Amber of mourners at a graveside.

haiku capsule

                                                                            a    tall    old    oak    tree

                                                         keeper of partnership dreams

comfort from the grave

Next blog: Image Worshipers – Joseph’s Cross