Typhoon Fitow has passed, but wait there's more!

Today, the weekend no less, was not a complete bust. However on the marital bliss front, the typhoon has yet to pass. How does one see the best in their spouse at all times or even some of the times? I see good, but it's never good enough. Sigh. I guess that's me. After F took E to a sporting goods store to get supplies for our camping trip next weekend, I went out for a long walk.

I walked with no real thought in mind of where I'd end up though wasn't prepared to go too far off my usual beat. I brought along 1000 yen for drinks or whatever I wanted and my alien card in case a policeman had nothing better to do than to ask me for my ID. I also brought along my mobile phone to watch when aforementioned spouse would notice that I had not returned by the time he got home.

I walked to the river, which is a bit of a misnomer I feel, but it is called a river. And so for the sake of the story, a river it is. I walked my usual route, seeing people walking along with their dogs or loved ones, as I plod out a solitary track. I walked to the end of my course and sat down to watch the water go over the falls. I sat there stewing in my juices thinking up witty one-liners that would cut a native English speaker down to size. Having to either look in the dictionary to translate what I said or the tone of what I said, well, I felt it would cause a certain something to be lost.

As I sat there silently stewing, I also watched a couple carp on the edge of the short fall there swimming around and generally showing how strong they were that they could swim against the current. Now, while there's probably a sermon in there, I didn't want to think about it. I didn't want to think about what I could learn from this situation; afterall it's always F's fault. Why should I waste time thinking about my contribution?

I sat there a while and then decided to start towards home. Somewhere in my thoughts, I decided to turn off my phone and not watch for that moment when "Oh yes, he'll be sorry." I walked and walked and thought about what else I could say to make my case crystal clear. I dodged bicycles, old women walking home from the store together with their purchases on their arms or on their carts, an occasional child blocking the sidewalk.

On my way up the steep hill that marks my ascent to home, I decided to stop at the park and turn on my phone. There was a message. I sat on the concrete wall a few minutes, savoring the power. Oh yes, he would be sorry. I called my voicemail and what did I hear? A rather chipper message from F asking where I was and when I thought I'd be home and to call him when I had time. I hesitated a moment. Where's the groveling? Where's the sheer terror in his voice? Shouldn't the message have been, "You will be coming home, won't you?" Where was the remorse?

Well, it's probably gone the way of my kindness. For many years, I thought I was quite kind and considerate. I now feel that it didn't get me any more consideration than I get now, so why bother? Yes, why bother, I say to myself righteously? Because without kindness and consideration, where would the world be? Would we be any different from animals? I don't know.

So, upon my arrival, I was welcomed back into the fold of my family. I grunted a mere acknowledgment that another adult human was in the room speaking in my general direction. Beyond that, I did nothing.

"I know you're frustrated."

And so that sits in the air because I can't deny it, but I also can't make him understand. I'm sure later there will be some kind of reconnaissance to see which way the wind is blowing.