CHAPTER TWO
An Unwelcome Surprise
AS RAY walked to his car from the train, he called Carol on his cell phone to let her know he was on his way home. She sounded a bit distracted but told him she would be very glad to see him.
Once home and settled in, Ray reviewed his frustrations and anger with Carol. He fully expected that she would listen sympathetically. With her experienced help, he would create a specific plan to solve the problems.
Ray had just started his list of frustrations when Carol interrupted.
“Too much to do? Tell me about it!” she fumed. He wasn’t prepared for this. Instead of a supportive ear, he got an earful.
“I was up with you at six,” she said. “As soon as the kids were off to school, I was off to work. You know I hate to have them come home before me. Even though they’re older now, it’s still not okay. When I got home today, they were both doing their homework, which is great. But I had to take Tammy to her music lesson, do shopping, spend time on my own paperwork, and then go back to pick her up. As if that weren’t enough, I needed to interrupt it to get Jamie to and from baseball.”
Carol was on a roll. It was obvious that she also needed support.
“Work was full of interruptions interrupted by interruptions,” she continued. “Our lives are empty! There’s too little family time, too little control, not enough getting accomplished, and too little real meaning!”
With the flood of anxiety Carol was dumping out, Ray couldn’t get a word in.
“Ray, what’s happened to our dreams? We wanted to have daily family time and family weekends a few times a year. And what about alone time for us? This isn’t our dream! It’s a nightmare!”
Carol was close to tears. Finally, Ray saw an opening and said quickly, “You’re right! We have to change if we want to take control and live our dreams. I wish my dad were still alive. He was usually busy with business, but when he was home, he’d help me think through problems. When he retired at sixty-two, he’d planned to spend more time with Mom and us kids. But he died just a year later.”
“Let’s not let that happen to us,” Carol said.
Ray paused a moment and just looked at his wife. “Tonight, when I was in that black tunnel under the Hudson, I tried to figure out when all this started. What happened to the dreams we had before we were married?”
Carol shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“I think . . . ,” Ray hesitated, struggling for words, “the trouble started as early as our honeymoon. Remember how I had a hard time relaxing on that glorious beach? I couldn’t just enjoy the sun and sand . . . or even you. I had to check the stock market almost every hour. There were three of us on our honeymoon: you, me, and my work!”
“Four of us!” Carol sighed. “I wasn’t exactly the blissful bride. I had just landed my first managerial position. I couldn’t let go, either. I called the office at least ten times during that week, when I didn’t have to.”
“How can we get rid of all this meaningless stress?” said Ray. “Who do we know who really seems to have their life together?”
The question hung in the air.
The silence thundered!
He restated the question. “Who do we know who has found great meaning in life?”
Carol’s eyes lit up. “That sounds like Ed and Alanna! They have five kids, and one of their sons is mentally handicapped. On top of everything, Alanna finds time to distribute goods to the poor.”
“You’re right,” said Ray. “Ed seems so centered, and yet he’s got his hands full with a very successful company. He hasn’t exactly had it easy, either. One of his key employees started a business behind his back. The guy used Ed’s salespeople to sell to Ed’s own clients. He charged Ed’s clients and put the fees in his own pocket, the whole time drawing a salary from Ed. He even used Ed’s copier to copy his invoices. That’s how Ed caught him.”
“Talk about stress,” said Carol.
Ray nodded. “Yeah, it messed up Ed’s business for a while. But no matter what’s going on, Ed always seems to find great meaning in his life. He and Alanna have a glow about them, like they’re connected to some tremendous, hidden power. I want to know what that is.”
“I’m sure they’d be willing to share some ideas with us,” said Carol.
“Would you call them tomorrow?” Ray held up a hand.
“No, wait. You’re busy enough. I’ll make the arrangements.”
That night in bed, Carol laid her head on Ray’s shoulder, the way she slept many a night. It was reassuring. Yes, she truly was his beacon of hope in the dark tunnel. He got the feeling that the train was starting to slow down. Ray, not an overly religious man, let a little “Thank God” slip out.