Vicki's efficiency apartment looked more like a cell in a nunnery than a home. At best, the kitchen could be described as a kitchenette. Renting it hadn't even put a small dent in her personal checking account. A hundred dollars at the super store had purchased the essentials. The most expensive item was the camping mattress that served as her bed. It sat directly on the floor. The small bed, it didn't really qualify to be called a bed, occupied the majority of the undecorated room.
After years of working a high pressure job with lots of action demanding attention to detail, staying alone in the spartan apartment with nothing to do was mind-numbing. There were only so many times a day that one could clean the miniscule apartment. It already had the cleanest bathroom in the city.
She needed to find something to do, but finding a job was out of the question. Working is what had brought her to this situation. There was only choice that made sense to her -- charity work.
Thus it was that on a Thursday morning, Vicki was at the church polishing the pews. She was on her knees cleaning the little rack that held the hymn books on the back of the pew. She was in the middle of the church and basically hidden from anyone at the door. She heard someone enter the church, but didn't bother to look up to see who it was.
"Reverend Billings, could I talk to you?"
Vicki paused her efforts to polish the book rack in order to listen to the visitor more carefully. It seemed to her that the voice sounded like it belonged to her son, David.
"Yes, David. What can I do for you?" Reverend Billings answered.
"I'm worried," David answered.
Unprepared to deal with her son, Vicki didn't know what to do. She hoped Reverend Billings would lead him out of the church.
Reverend Billings asked, "What is it that worries you, my son?"
"My family. Ever since my mother moved away, my father walks around depressed. My sisters are gleeful and don't see how upset he is. I don't like what I'm seeing," David answered.
"Have you talked to your father?" Reverend Billings asked.
David said, "I've tried. When I ask him if he is okay, he just grunts and says he's fine. He won't talk about it."
"And your sisters? Have you talked to them?"
"They are ecstatic that Mother is gone," David answered.
"Have Rose and Lisa have given into anger?" Reverend Billings asked.
"I would say so," David said.
Knowing that she was eavesdropping on a private conversation and deciding that Reverend Billings wasn't going to move it to a more private place, Vicki picked up her cleaning gear and stood up.
She said, "Excuse me. I didn't mean to eavesdrop. I'll leave now and give you some privacy."
"Mother!" David exclaimed once he realized the identity of the cleaning woman. He didn't recognize her in jeans and a tee shirt.
Reverend Billings asked, "Have you taked with your mother, David?"
"No," David answered not taking his eyes off of her.
"I think now might be a good time to do that," Reverend Billings said.
David asked, "What did you do to dad?"
"Your father admitted to himself that I'm a self-centered bitch and he would be better off without me. Sorry for the language, Reverend," Vicki answered.
David was surprised by the sadness in her voice.
"Calling yourself a female dog is not a blaspheme. I will admit it isn't a very flattering description of one's self," Reverend Billings said gently.
"It's a factual description," Vicki said bitterly.
Reverend Billings looked at Vicki for a few seconds. He sighed and then said, "Don't give into the temptation of self pity. That is as destructive as anger, greed, and envy."
"You're right," Vicki said.
"I think the two of you should have a long conversation," Reverend Billings said.
After her experience with John, Vicki was pretty sure that the conversation would quickly escalate into a rant. She wasn't foolish enough to think for a moment that he didn't know how to swear.
Looking around at the church, Vicki said, "Maybe here is not a good place. I'm sure that the language will not be suitable for a church."
"God will hear what you say no matter where you are," Reverend Billings said. "I'm sure that he'll let pass a few damns, hells, and even f-bombs in resolving the differences between the two of you."
David was shocked. "Reverend!"
"Don't underestimate God, David. Do you think it is an accident that you came here to talk to me when your mother is here cleaning his house?"
"Well..."
"Talk to each other with honesty. Maybe with God as a referee you'll both find peace," Reverend Billings said. "I'll step out for a bit. What needs to be said is between the two of you ... and God. You don't need a meddling old fool getting in the way."
Vicki's fear of facing David's anger alone drove her to say, "Please stay."
"No. You have to face his wrath alone," Reverend Billings said with a small smile.
"My wrath?" David asked.
"Yes," Reverend Billings answered. "There is a bit of wrath inside you just bursting to get out."
"I take after my dad. I don't do wrath," David said defensively.
Patting David on the shoulder, Reverend Billings said, "Of course you do. You're a human being – imperfect and capable of great emotion."
Reverend Billings stepped out of the church leaving David and Vicki alone. Both had stared at his retreating back wishing that he had stayed. A great silence descended upon the room.
"You are wrong about one thing," Vicki said breaking the silence.
Turning to face his mother, David asked, "What?"
Vicki said, "That bit about not doing wrath because you take after your father."
"You don't know me well enough to say that," David said.
"The last conversation I had with your father tells me otherwise. Boy ... did he ever unleash his wrath at me," Vicki said.
"He did?" David asked.
He would have been less surprised to learn that his father had grown a tail. The idea of his father being angry was totally foreign to a lifetime of experience with the man. His father was always telling him that only a weak man allowed anger to rule his actions.
Vicki said, "I'm sure your father is depressed because he discovered the degree to which he is angry at me. Your father doesn't know how to deal with anger very well. He views it as a personal failure."
"It is," David said.
"No. He has a right to be angry. It is preferable to the alternative. The alternative would have been much worse," Vicki said.
"What's the alternative?" David asked.
"Not to care," Vicki said. She looked at him and said, "I imagine that like your father, you care deeply about things."
"Of course I do," David said.
Vicki said, "If you care about something, it hurts to watch it get destroyed. When you strive to save something and it is still destroyed, you will get angry at the cause of that destruction."
"I guess," David said.
"I destroyed the family. Your father fought valiantly to save it, but to no effect. He's right to be angry at me. He doesn't want to accept that he failed," Vicki said.
Feeling a flush of anger, David said, "Don't say that he failed!"
"He failed," Vicki said.
That was the statement that unleashed David's wrath. The rant was nowhere near as energetic or long as his father's outburst. It was still impressive in how much hurt and pain was packed into his rant. He did manage to say a few words that didn't belong in church.
David's issues were less about feelings of abandonment and more about the consequences of his mother's absence on everyone else in the family. His friends had mothers who worked and it had not been that traumatic to him. Her treatment of him had hurt. Watching his sisters grow to hate their mother had hurt. Watching his father suffer for years had hurt. His greatest pain was that she had harmed his opinion of the only man, his father, who could serve as a role model for him.
Vicki listened to every word. She was forced to accept that she had hurt her family in ways that she hadn't imagined possible. The pain she felt increased and burrowed deeper into her soul. It was hard to stand there and listen to him. She wanted to flee, but she stood there and took everything he had to give.
It took some time, but David finally wound down. Exhausted, he stared at his mother unable to believe the words that had come out of his mouth. He had discovered some things about himself that he didn't like.
"Do you feel better?" Vicki asked.
"No," David answered.
Vicki sighed wishing that his answer had been otherwise. She asked, "Do you understand how your father is feeling right now?"
"Yes," David answered looking down at the floor.
"That's good," Vicki said. "I think you need to talk with him. It will help you both."
"Yes," David said.
"I'd like you to understand something before you go," Vicki said.
"What?"
"Your father failed because there was no way for him to save the family. Divorcing me would have torn apart the family and keeping me was tearing apart the family. He was in a no win situation. The problem came down to me," Vicki said. "Restoring the family is my responsibility."
David said, "I don't see you doing anything to restore the family."
"What do you mean? Did you not see me stand here and listen to you?" Vicki asked unable to resist defending her actions.
"I didn't think about that," David said.
Her questions made him feel uneasy, but he wasn't sure why. Listening to him didn't seem like doing much to bring the family together. He wanted to see her doing something more active.
"Go home and talk to your father," Vicki said softly.
David was about to retort that she wasn't in a position to tell him what to do when she added, "You'll feel better after talking to him."
"Oh, ya," David said feeling like she had taken the wind out of his sail. He left the church under the watchful eye of his mother. In a way, he felt like he had lost this confrontation.
Vicki stood in place staring at the door long after David had left. She had wanted to hug him so much that it had hurt to stand there. He was so much like his father it was scary. At least he hadn't been as angry as his father.
"It hurts, doesn't it?" Reverend Billings asked.
"You can't imagine how much it hurts," Vicki said.
He had a very good idea how much it hurt. He was no stranger to pain and suffering. He was a human being and had made mistakes. He'd had to stand up to his mistakes and suffer the consequences.
In a cheery voice, he said, "You did that well. I see a real chance at healing your family."
"His comment about not seeing me do anything struck a nerve," Vicki said.
"I'm sure it did. For a fraction of a second I though you were going to get nasty."
Vicki said, "I thought you weren't going to listen in on our talk."
"I didn't say that. I said that you didn't need me getting in the way," Reverend Billings said. "As a far as eavesdropping goes, didn't I mention that I was a meddling old fool."
"Yes, you did," Vicki said.
"Do you want some advice?"
"Sure."
"Grow a thicker skin before you talk to Lisa," Reverend Billings said.
"She can't be as bad as John was," Vicki said.
"Lisa is going to be rough. I wouldn't be surprised if she isn't rougher than Rose. She's got a lot of issues driving her and a lot of them are very personal."
"How do you know that?"
"I'm a meddling old fool. I listen to what people say and put facts together," Reverend Billings answered. "Besides, there's nothing unique about your story. One member of a family gets caught up in something at the expense of everyone else. The rest of the family suffers. Something causes the sinner to return to the family. There are arguments and hurt feelings before things resolve themselves. It is all ho hum except to the people involved."
"Ho hum?"
"Yes."
Later at John's Farm, David approached his father and asked, "Can I talk to you?"
"Sure," John said.
David said, "I went to the church to talk with Reverend Billings and ran into Mother."
That got John's immediate attention. He wondered if there were fireworks involved.
"Did you talk to her?" John asked.
"You might say that. I kind of lost it and blasted her," David said. "I said a lot of very nasty things."
"And now you feel bad," John said.
He was wondering what kind of nasty things David might have said. There were a lot of things he could have said. It wasn't a subject for him to pursue. If David wanted to talk about it, he would say something.
"Yes," David said.
John said, "What you are feeling is perfectly natural. You're feeling guilty because you basically attacked your own mother."
"Right," David said.
"I bet she invited it," John said. "She said something that she knew would make you mad."
"You might say that," David said.
John asked, "What did she say?"
"She said that you failed to keep the family together," David said.
"She actually said that?" John asked unable to believe that she was blaming him for the problems in the family.
"Yes. After my rant, she said that you were in a no win situation. You couldn't keep her and you couldn't get rid of her," David said.
"That's true," John said, "although it hurts me to say that."
"I shouldn't have yelled at her," David said. "I mean ... I really lost it."
"Did you call her names?"
"No."
"Did you say anything that wasn't true?"
"No."
"Did you strike her?"
"God no!"
"Were you intentionally trying to hurt her with your words?"
David stared down at the floor for a minute considering the question. He didn't know how to answer it.
"I wanted her to see how much she had hurt me," David finally answered. "At first, I wasn't even aware of her while the words spewed forth from my mouth. Then I became aware of her and knew I was hurting her. I saw that I had made her cry, but I didn't stop shouting at her."
"You feel bad about not stopping," John said.
"Yes," David answered, "but I couldn't stop."
John said, "Now you feel empty."
"Yes."
John asked, "Do you think it is possible that you feel empty because you got rid of a lot of your anger?"
"Maybe," David answered after a moment of thought.
John said, "We've been carrying that anger for so long that it has become part of us. Releasing it feels like we've lost something."
"You're right," David said.
John asked, "We might have lost our anger, but is that bad? I mean, anger isn't exactly a good thing to carry around as part of you."
"You're right," David said. "I also feel guilty for having yelled at Mother."
"Listen, compared to me you have nothing to feel guilty about. I ranted and raved at her like a madman," John said. He had woken up at night after nightmares featuring the expression of terror on her face.
"I still feel guilty," David said. "Reverend Billings said that I needed to release my wrath."
"He called it wrath?" John asked in surprise.
"Yes. I didn't even know that I had wrath," David said.
"And then he left you with your mother after telling you that?" John asked.
"Yes," David said.
"It sounds like he was giving you permission to yell at your mother."
Responding to the statement rather than what had actually happened in the church, David said, "Yes ... no ... he wouldn't do that ... would he?"
John said, "I never know what he's going to say or do. There are times when I'm surprised that he hasn't been defrocked."
"Before he left, he told me that God would forgive me if I cursed in the church," David said thinking back over the conversation.
"It sounds like he was giving you permission to yell at your mother," John said.
David thought back to the conversation. It really did seem as if the Reverend was trying to get him to express his anger at his mother. The Reverend also forced his mother to face him alone. It didn't make much sense.
"Now that I think back on it, he was pushing me to release my wrath and for mother to stay there and listen to it," David said, "Why would he do that? Particularly if he knew that I was going to say some pretty hurtful things."
"Maybe because you needed to say it and your mother needed to hear it from you," John answered.
To David, that explanation sounded like a cop out. It sounded like he had been given permission to trample on her feelings and walk away without guilt. That didn't seem right.
"So I shouldn't feel guilty?"
"Maybe you shouldn't," John said.
"I feel guilty," David said.
John said, "You can apologize to her the next time you see her. Of course, when I did that she told me never to apologize for telling her the truth about how I felt."
"She told you that?" David asked.
"Yes," John answered.
In talking to David, John was beginning to come to grips with his rant. He had needed to get rid of his anger and Vicki needed to understand the source of his anger. Both ends had been accomplished that day.
John said, "Go ahead and apologize. She may tell you that you shouldn't, but she'll also know that you are sorry for hurting her feelings."
"Okay," David said.
"Have you forgiven her?"
"Not really," David said.
"Are you closer to forgiving her now than you were this morning?"
"I'm closer, but not there."
John said, "I feel exactly the same way."
As far as he could tell, she was still the same woman who had abandoned her family. For him to grant forgiveness he had to feel that she actually felt guilty for what she had done and would never do it again. He wasn't sure that she had reached that point.
"Really?" David asked finding comfort in that.
"Yes. In fact, I don't feel quite as empty as before. Maybe I'm starting to heal," John said.
This had been a lot like lancing a boil. There was a sharp stab of the lance and then the emergence of a lot of ugly pus that looked gross and smelled horrible. Once the pus had finished seeping out of the wound, it would slowly begin to heal. There would be a scar, but one can live with a scar.
"Interesting," David said.
Patting David on the shoulder, John asked, "Do you want to go fishing?"
"Sure."
"Let's go."
"What about the girls?"
"They can take care of themselves," John answered deciding that this was a good time for a little male bonding. Maybe it was time to talk about how anger could serve as an exclamation point to a statement in order to let people know that things aren't quite right with the world.