Prologue

24 October 2012
7:30 PM

Sunrise at	9:14 AM	in direction	117°	East-southeast
Sunset at	5:54 PM	in direction	242°	West-southwest

Duration of day: 8 hours, 40 minutes (6 minutes, 44 seconds shorter than yesterday)

0 – Prologue

They met in a downtown coffee house - not the one they'd preferred for Saturday coffee while doing errands.  She'd only been at this coffee house a few times.  It was good place to meet when meeting and chatting with friends wasn't the goal.

She arrived before he, and passed time by examining the art hanging on the grey blue walls.  The pieces were abstract representations of regional life constructed from fabric, metals, and glass scraps blended into pastel chalks and watercolor.  She hadn't recognized the artist's name.  Another time she would have been more interested, but today she had other things to think about and tend to.

She took a table near the window to get the morning light, and to watch for him.  When he arrived, sandy hair blowing about the familiar ruddy skin of his forehead and blue eyes, her eyes moistened with unshed tears.  She blinked and let the moment pass.

They talked over necessary last minute details, the children, visits, which things he'd forgot to pack and would need shipped, and of course, money.  There would be enough on both; she would be fine and he would send support and help with the children's school expenses - now and when they entered college.  She'd probably move back to the Lower 48 once her current contract was finished so he'd not be so far from them.  They didn't talk about his destination, what prompted him to go, nor who was waiting for him there.  They didn't reminisce on the good times, although there had been good times. 

Over the last few years, despite a life that looked as it were a shared one, they had drifted a part.  When he'd received an offer in the Lower 48, he’d taken it.  After that, after accepting the offer, he’d told her he was leaving.  He hadn't liked Alaska nearly as much as he thought he would.  

Finished with their hot drinks, there wasn't much reason to tarry.  He had a long way to drive over the next several days.  They walked out into the sunshine.  She was dressed more warmly than the late May temperatures required, but she'd noticed clouds to the south; wet, cooler temperatures seemed in the offing later that day.  He wore his characteristic tee shirt under a plaid shirt, unbuttoned and rolled up sleeves to the elbow, the Alaskan man’s paunch he’d gained over the winter outlined clearly under the tee.  He’d probably lose that pretty fast where he was going, she thought.

The children were in school - they didn't know he hadn't left town yet, having said their tearful goodbyes the night before.  Without really talking about it, they both had known they would need to meet alone; that she would be the last one he'd see before driving south.

He walked her to her car.  They walked casually, as if they were on an afternoon stroll, maybe to prolong, just a little bit, the life they had together.  When they came even with her worn, forest green, but amazingly reliable Subaru, he turned to face her, leaning against it by the front left wheel.

"I wish it hadn't come to this," was all he said.

Watching the pavement, she nodded.  "I know.  I feel that way too."

"Where did we go wrong?  We always seemed so in sync, so close.  How did it stop; when did it stop being that way?"

She shrugged and then looked up at him and smiled slightly, "Maybe it was Alaska.  They say it either makes or breaks relationships.  What we were didn't mesh with what it means to live here, I guess."

He paused and then nodded.  "Yeah, we had very different ways of adapting to it all didn't we?"

Now it was her turn to nod. "Yep.  I definitely became more private, more inward over time and slower to move through things.  You got involved in absolutely everything to keep you mind off the dark and the cold."

"Didn't work, did it?"  he said wryly.

The defeated, half smile touched her lips again, this time accompanied by eyes that conveyed, whether she intended or not, the finality of it all, "Apparently not," was her only reply.

Grabbing her hands suddenly he looked into her eyes.  "I do love you.  I never stopped loving you, despite it all."

She didn't attempt to take her hands away, even though his words sent waves of emotional pain through her body.  Despite her wounded spirit, she knew he meant it, despite what he'd done. 

"A person has to survive however they can," was all she said about his decision to leave her and the family.  "I still love you, too.  You know that."

He grabbed her then and they stood holding each other, saying nothing.  Her head was resting in his shoulder where it had lain so many times.  His chin rested against her hair.  She could feel his heart beating.

Finally, he stood back, moving his hands to her arms.  He gave her that cockeyed grin even though his eyes were somber.  Softly he said, "See ya, Babe."  Then he turned and walked away without looking back.

She opened the car door, got in, fastened the seat beat, and started the engine.  She drove across the Cushman Bridge heading north and then turned up Phillips Field road.  Finding a spot out of traffic, she pulled over and sat in silence, staring at nothing in particular.  She wanted to sob, even wail at her loss; she wanted to vent her fear and worry and even some anger. 

She did none of that.  She would need to pick up Josh from school in a few hours.  She didn't want obvious traces of grief on her face.  The children had enough of their own sorrows.   But she could not dislodge the hollow feeling in her stomach and heart.  She could not fill the emptiness.

And so a life of single minded, quiet endurance and perseverance began.