Unpacking
The other afternoon, I was switching out our flannel sheets. Ian had told me he’d packed some spare bedding in the basement, including a duvet cover. I found what he described and brought it upstairs, and as I unfolded the fabric I noticed some tell-tale home stitching. I turned it over, inspecting it. Ian was in the bathroom. I called out to him, “Honey, where did this come from?
When he did not respond, I knew immediately. This was something that Laura had made. Something she had sewn for their bed. In the darkness of the moment, in my jealous panic, I marched the sheet over to him and ridiculously declared: I never want to see this again.
Listen, this is not the first time I have come across an unwanted reminder or accidental ghost, but for some reason they seem to surface when I least want to find them. Here we are, adjusting to our new home and settling in more and more…and there it is. These banal, meaningless artifacts become real-life manifestations of every dire concern I’ve ever harbored, every fear about my relationship.
I know that my relationship (and now marriage) comes very shortly on the heels of Ian’s first marriage. There is bound to be messiness. The lesson of this jealousy and darkness, I think, is a maxim I hold dear: you are never upset about what you think you are upset about. When I’m really spiraling, and feeling terrible about anything, I try to calm myself down by repeating this.
The truth is that there are no ghosts in this house. The duvet cover is just a duvet cover. And Ian’s ex-wife is also Rowan’s mother and, more than anything, also another person with her own complications and beauty. And my relationship with Ian is my relationship with Ian, and nothing more or less. If there are not lessons in encountering the recent past with this kind of intimacy and fluency, then we are missing an amazing opportunity.
I wonder often if we met at the junction we did for a reason. It was the first winter after his divorce, and he was still finding his balance. I was always single and busily finding my place in this city. I thought, how could this possibly get serious? It was just a date.
And here we are.
