Open Writing

It's a precious weekend and Howard and I are alone in the living room. We haven't the energy to put the television on. The white noise in my brain is deafening and my body feels as if it's being buffeted by an icy wind. Lying on the settee, Howard's eyes are open and unfocussed.

'We can't go on like this.' I look at Howard and see deep creases worn into his face. Our trip to California had been a lifesaver for him. He certainly couldn't have borne the tragedy of his sister's death in the state he'd been in before we'd gone.

He says nothing. I can see the muscle in his jaw clench. The time is fast approaching when he will have to begin to live away for part of each week.

'You hate this crisis management, every step forward spoiled by bullyboy tactics.' I've listened for months to Howard's stories of fighting fires for the people below him and forever trying to appease those above.

'What choice do we have?' His tone is sharp. I can hear a flash of anger in the defeat. 'I understand why you and the boys can't move to Stratford but I don't see what else I can do.'

'Sweetheart, the pressure you're under is punishing. The broken promises and the perpetual exhaustion are too much.' I can feel she-bear defensiveness kick in.

This is not an earth shattering revelation. There is no response.

'You don't have anything left to enjoy your life.' I'm up and pacing around the room, ready to fight the world to protect my family. 'It's not worth the damage to your health.' Whilst he's sleeping a bit better, he's still struggling with his stomach and the doctor's having trouble getting to the bottom of the problem.

I take a breath. 'You should quit this job.'

'But how will we manage?' My husband is nothing if not realistic.

'You'll find another job. I'm back at work now. If James needs us, you can look after him.' The words are rushing out. 'We've always managed to live happily, whether we've had any money or not.'

'Your wage alone won't pay the mortgage,' he says, quietly. 'We could sell this house and buy something much smaller, if we have to.' I stoop and put my arms around him. 'I'd rather live in a cardboard box than watch you die this slow death.' His shoulders drop and he feels heavy in my arms.

In the morning, Howard hands in his letter of resignation.

His bosses aren't surprised, when Howard tells them he wants to leave. They offer him a choice between a lesser job, nearer home or a redundancy package but make us wait for the details. It's a huge relief to have made the decision but there's yet another layer of anxiety, as we face an 'unknown' future. For a compulsive planner like me, it's the ultimate in scariness and I've had a lot of it lately. Logically, we never know what tomorrow will bring and we only fool ourselves with the false security blanket of our plans. I know 'faith' is the answer but it's easier said than done, sometimes. I have no regrets about this decision we've made, though. If it's a choice between trusting God and chasing money, I'll go with God every time.

*

When it became clear to my dad that I was really going to marry my Englishman, he tried very hard to persuade us to live in America. He offered Howard a job at a fabulous wage and reminded me that I'd been accepted to do my master's degree. I would be able to earn considerably more money as a psychologist than as a teacher, especially in the US.
But the stories of drug abuse and promiscuity in my high school, the statistics for crime and broken marriages convinced us that Britain was probably a better place to raise children. We liked the idea of belonging in a community where generations of Howard's family had lived. And I loved teaching. It wasn't at all difficult to put our future family and job satisfaction before money. The hard part, for me, was being so far from my relatives. But even if I'd gone to Florida to study, I'd still have had a long-distance relationship with my own family.

Then years later, when our boys were small and Howard was offered a job after three months on the dole, we never considered turning it down - despite the fact that we would be bringing in less money than we were getting in benefits. To us it was a chance for Howard to prove himself, to work his way up, make his own possibilities. And we've never been sorry about these choices, either.