Open Writing

It's not late but the boys have vanished to the bedroom end of the house. There's a book in my hand and the television is on but nothing much is going in. Something is niggling in the back of my mind.

Howard rubs his arm, again. I study him. Normally, he complains about repeated movements. The boys and I often diddle our feet and struggle to sit still and it drives him mad. What I see now shocks me. It's not just the bleached grey pallor of his skin or the shadowed hollows around his eyes. The strain that Howard's under at work, on top of our family situation, is taking a toll on his health. He isn't sleeping well but it's more than that. He's afraid.

'What's up with your arm?'

'Nothing, I'm just getting pins and needles.' He rubs it some more and suddenly becomes engrossed in the TV programme.

'You look awful. What's wrong?' I try to keep calm but firm. Howard hates the idea of being unwell.

'My chest hurts. It's hard to breathe.'

That's it. My mental calculator is computing probabilities and they all add up to terror.

'I'm phoning for an ambulance.' I leap out of my chair.

'No! It's not that bad.' His voice glitters like steel.

I can see that I'm making it worse. 'But pins and needles, chest pain, your family history... Howard, it could be a heart attack.' The panic is leaking out despite my best efforts.

'It's not a heart attack.'

'Well, I'm phoning the doctor, at least.'

'It's late.' His defence is weakening. I phone quickly and our brilliant GP arrives in minutes.

The doctor gives him a thorough check up and reassures us that Howard's heart is strong and his blood pressure fine.

'I think it's exhaustion from prolonged stress,' he tells us.

'We're sorry to have dragged you out for nothing,' Howard says.

'No, you did the right thing. Don't ever hesitate. If you think you might be having a heart attack, you ought to phone for an ambulance.'

I can hear the sincerity in the doctor's voice and see that he is relieved for us.

We decide to rest for a whole weekend. Like wearing children's armbands in an ocean storm, it helps a bit. So many emotions have been gripped tight for so long that relaxing, even for a couple of days, allows them to explode in my face. Bottomless pits of tears and flashes of anger erupt, as I prepare tea or queue at the supermarket.

In the early days of our marriage we had a lot to leam about each other. Howard and I were best friends as well as lovers and weren't afraid to argue when disagreements arose. Being the kind of person who likes to think out loud and bounce my ideas off someone else, to evaluate their feedback, I became extremely frustrated when Howard wouldn't play this game with me. I felt he wasn't prepared to consider my thoughts so would try to force him to comment.

One particular day, I'd pushed him too far and we had a huge row. He started packing a bag to leave me and just as quickly as he put things in, I threw them out, even hiding his keys. In the end he stomped out empty handed and walked all the way to the nearest town, some eight miles away. There he bought me a new kettle, turned and walked back.

Neither of us can remember what that quarrel was about but we did learn, from the experience, that we think differently. Howard had been listening to all that I had to say, thinking about it and giving me his carefully considered reply when it was ready, perhaps a few days later. Once I came to understand and respect that, I was less frustrated and we came to value this difference in our approach and saw how it strengthened us as a team.

Of course that didn't mean we never argued again. On another occasion that comes to mind, we were out walking and had a disagreement. I've no idea what it was about.

'Oh, for goodness sake, you're cutting your nose off to spite your face,' I yelled.

With a look of crackling fury, Howard turned and stormed off in front of me, striding out to put physical distance between us.

It was my turn to carry baby James in his pouch. This extra weight meant there was no way I could catch up or keep up with Howard. Feeling very hurt and angry, saying things we didn't really mean, I realised we'd backed ourselves into separate corners and were unable to reach out to one another.

In despair, I talked to God. I asked Him to take away my anger and help me to feel the love I had for Howard. Like cool salve on livid sunburn, peace spread within me.

With the intensity walked off and faced with a calm and loving wife, Howard's anger dissolved and whatever the problem had been, it was solved amicably.