Giving, and giving, and giving some more

Today I had a busy day at work. It was very noisy, and there was lots of chaos, and I was meeting with a client. Then the phone rang. Caller ID shows it to be my wife’s cell phone. I excuse myself and take the call. My client is a married man, he understands. My wife wanted to know what my movements would be like tomorrow, because she wants to have the dog for the next week. I told her that the morning would be okay, but I’d need to call her back to discuss particulars, as I was in the middle of work. She agreed, and I returned to my client, and said, “always take the call when the wife calls, you know what I mean?” He chuckled.

The truth be told, however, it’s because of things like not taking my wife’s call while I was working that I eventually ended up in a marital crisis. I simply was not putting her first, nor was I making our marriage the most important aspect of my life. These were huge mistakes, and I’ve been paying for them in the form of this crisis for over 6 months now.

Once I was free, I called her back, and it went straight to voice mail. I expected that, as I knew she would be teaching at that time, and had work right after that. I told her that she could call me back once her work wrapped up. She gets done around 9:30, and here it is 10:15 now. There will be no call. I might get a text tonight or early tomorrow morning, though.

So, with the impending departure of doggie to Camp What’s-It-There — and I do feel sorry for her because she is clearly so much more comfortable and happy here — I took the occasion to do a bit of shopping once I left work. I had to stop by home first, and on the doorstep was a box containing the custom coffee cup I had made for my wife. I opened the box, and the cup looks pretty good: the banner motif of her blog, along with the blog title, plus a pic of the dog just underneath. On the other side of the cup is the blog’s URL. I harnessed up the dog, we jumped in the car, and our first stop was the pet shop to pick up some dog food (Tripett, again). After that, I set out to find something to put inside the cup, which I’ll be giving her tomorrow. I drove around looking for stuff, but most of the usual shops were closed. I ended up at a decent grocery store and bought a little packet of hot chocolate mix, plus a small bag of gummi cola bottles. I’ve never been fond of gummi anythings, but my wife loves them, and the little cola bottles are one of her favorites.

I got home and started to think about packing. The box the cup came in was big enough to house it as well as a picture I wanted to re-give to her. I had several pictures made while she was still in the house, and this one is one of her favorites: a goofy picture of our dog when she was a puppy. My wife left all these pictures at home when she moved out. This was sort of like her returning those gifts to me, so I am re-returning this one to her. I’ll find a non-chalant way to get all this stuff to her.

The cup is going to make an impact, I think. It is really something only I could do. Well, she could to, but she just has never thought of it. Since I have admin privileges on the server where the blog is hosted (we have several other websites there, too) I could very easily download the graphics files she uses for her blog banner, and these were decent enough resolution to make the coffee cup. The adulterer simply cannot do that. My wife has a 6-year history with her blog that dates back to when we first got the puppy. I bought her the domain name and hosted it for her so that she could customize the blog to her liking — she previously had it hosted on a free site, and couldn’t do much with it. The blog has really been a work of love for her. She’d update it nearly every day, and every time we’d do things together she’d bring her camera so as to have some pictures to put up on the blog. She had a lot of friends she had made via the blog — all women who also have dogs — and they were often sending gifts to each other. Since this crisis started, she’s updated it maybe a couple of times a month, that’s it. And I think all of those friendships have pretty much dwindled.

The little gummi bottles, well, that’s insider knowledge. I may be wrong, but I’m pretty certain the adulterer doesn’t know that she likes them. Then there’s the picture. It is so goofy that it makes her laugh pretty much every time she sees it. I gave this to her originally by just putting it on her desk while she was out. She was grateful for it, but in the end she just left it behind. Nevertheless, the appearance of these things in her life speak of my presence. The side-effect of all this is that these will likely be a thorn in the side of the adulterer, should he find out about them. I really don’t see how he can’t if she’s actually living with him. She’ll take them back there, and he’ll wonder where all that stuff came from. He’ll probably feel jealous and inadequate, too. But, his feelings are not my problem. She is my wife, after all, and so he has no reason to this kind of relationship with her, and he certainly has no legitimate reason to have her living in his house whatsoever. So again, my intention in giving these things is to show my presence through my knowledge of my wife. I’m sure he would not want my presence felt in his house, so the side benefit is that these things also almost certainly undermine the affair and will help it to end.

Then there’s the dog. She clearly is happier here at home, but she’s not really happy. She knows something is not right. She cries and whines all the time. She goes into my wife’s office, but does not find her there. She is always happy to see my wife again, but every time she comes back from a stay at the adulterer’s place she seems relieved to be home. She sleeps very hard, and for quite a long time, every single time. It is as if she is under constant stress being in that place.

But, what’s a guy to do? I’m taking the gentle, patient approach here. It takes time, effort, dedication, and perseverance. Oh, and a bit of wisdom and skill. These are the things that eventually get the job of reconciliation done.