Recently and several times, my x-husband has asked for photographs and other memorabilia of his, of my, of our children. At first, his sudden interest in the children — who are now grown — didn’t exactly anger me but reminded me how bitter his words were. He said to me on Super-Bowl Sunday, 2004 that he’d given up on me and implied he’d given up on his children as well, saying it was too late to influence them.
Now he’s ‘borrowing’ items from me through our son. You see, my x-husband does his best never to speak to me in any fashion.
Today, I walked out to his car when he dropped off our son just to ask him if a scrapbook I’d located was what he wanted. “No, it’s a photograph of OKLAHOMA” — the musical our son participated in during his high school years. “Okay,” I said as I smiled at him — he barely glanced at me — “I’ll look for it. I know the photograph you mean. I’ve just got to locate it.”
“Okay, I’ll get it next weekend.”
This brief conversation contains the only words I’ve heard from this man for perhaps two years! As I smiled at him, I wondered if the softness in my voice and the kindness in my eyes were burning coals heaped on his heart.