From the book:A point between. A true story of a woman recalling a fearful time with a violent husband.

Even before we got married petty discussions reminded me of a sudden summer storm. Usually the announcement is subtle and often consists only of increasing heat and oppressive stillness, a brooding quietness.  Stillness intensifies the heat, heat and stillness lull the senses, trigger more anticipation –verge almost on obsession.   The power of anticipation is to magnify reality.”  

Outside leaves stop moving and shadows appear. Just in a whisper, softly whistling around the corner, the wind announces its presence. Sky changes from flawless clear to a range of dark grays, the wind increase its force, howling as if in pain, cuts through my brain. The sky, filled with flashes, thunder, echoes and blends with new thunder. Then nature’s energy appears to lessen even before the storm arrives.  The real danger is to think that just because the storm looks less powerful than anticipated, that it is powerless. The power of nature, promises to be kind, yet this unthinkable power could destroy, in an instant.

He was that unpredictable. In the house all activity comes to a halt in cold preparation of what is to come. Anticipation begins to give way to caution, combined with an awakening of senses.  Cool feathers run across my skin, scared of dark shadows creeping from behind, unseen, unheard, cold fingers gripping my heart. Fear and panic washes in waves over me.  The sudden rise and fall of his roaring voice rumbling on and on, rip viciously through my senses. There is no clearly defined climax nor is it possible to predict how long and at what intensity it would continue.  Trembling at the blast of his breath, red face, screaming, him in my space, his pointing finger pushing my chest, riding up into my mind with the deepest venom. 

Awareness that this explosion could become dangerous cautions all action.  In a bad situation, the only thing you can fully control is your own reaction.  Most times, mildly baffled, he’d use my learned reaction to his stormy behavior as an excuse to go out and leave me at home, blue, broken, lonely, worthless…..and wondering. Everything empty, ugly and scary.  I was not aloud out and I wondered, had he the power? Listening to the wind whistling louder, re-assuring:  “Let it be known, you are not on your own.” Clouds seem darker, but still ‘welcome’ waves the trees. Tears from Mother Nature flowing freely: “Forgive them for destroying me.”  Rain drops soft and peaceful don’t fit in this picture.  Thunder cracks loudly in anger; “Destroy I could!” “No, forgive” whispers the drops.  Silently I’ll agree with the rain of mercy: “Yes, forgive him”

Other times, just like rain would stop like a tap turned off, and a ray of sun beam through the clouds, when wet soil calm your senses, ease your nerves, so suddenly would appear on his face a combination of sorrow and despair that reminds one of a sad little boy.  No trace of fury remains as he runs a steamy welcome bath with fragrant essential oils, a medley of subtle smells. Kneeling to gently pick me up, as if I was done harm by some other man. He’d bathe me and I smell rain and roses in the calming soft water flow. I’d sigh, knowing, like the weather, a clear and cooler calm can be welcomed without knowing how long it will last.

These words by R Graves:  “The expression of sudden kindness was his model to school me in moderation and knowing my place, my reward for allowing him to squash my spirit into grooves I often questioned.”