So there I am, making dinner (chicken piccata with pasta) on the Saturday evening before Easter Sunday, when my husband, Michael, appears in the kitchen with our two carry-on luggage bags, packed to the brim. He ever so nonchalantly announces that he's leaving and will not be returning home...ever.
Our ten year old daughter, Izzy, was in the middle of a playdate with two of her besties and they were happily occupying themselves upstairs. Michael proceeded to summons Izzy to the kitchen so he could give her a hug and kiss "goodbye" and off he went.
Instead of collapsing right there on the floor, I somehow made it to the little loveseat next to the door and Izzy quickly joined me. We sat there together for what seemed like an eternity. Eventually her two friends came down the stairs and broke our silence. Izzy quickly explained the occurrence in a very matter of fact manner that only Izzy was capable of. With that, the three of them shuffled off into another room, assumably to commiserate.
And there I was, frozen, speechless and alone. So alone. I told myself this wasn't really happening. That Michael had been known to have these kinds of episodes in the past but he always snapped out of it. He would be back shortly. After all, it was Easter the following day.
He never returned.
That night, Izzy and her best friend, Ashley, and I all slept in my bed. (Ashley's father had, ironically, recently left her family in a similar manner) The three of us cried...loudly and for a very prolonged amount of time. As if someone, anyone, would eventually hear us and come rescue us from the excruciating pain. No one came. We finally fell asleep.
Easter Sunday: Both girls awoke at 6am so excited and eager to rush downstairs to see what the Easter Bunny had left them. Upon opening their baskets and reveling in the temporary joy that they brang, we all decided to go back up to bed. Around 9am, Michael appeared in the bedroom doorway. He cheerfully proclaimed that he was "here to watch Izzy open her Easter basket". His demeanor quickly changed as he spotted our pet rabbit Ruby, hopping about, cage-free, as was completely against house rules. His face turned red and the anger arose like a bat out of Hell. Venom spewed out every pore and loudly. All the while, Izzy slept peacefully and poor Ashley sat in bed with me, eye wide open, just staring at this lunatic in front of us. At some point he must have realized that his daughter was better off unawake and it was rather embarrassing that her best friend was staring at him in utter disbelief. So he left...again.
Easter Sunday was spent on the couch, the three of us, passing around the tissue box as we wept uncontrollably. We finally managed to gather ourselves enough to meet Ashley's mom and sister for dinner. I tried to use Michael's credit card to pay but it had already been cancelled.
Thanks for reading thus being a part of my journey,
Amy