I Should Do It More Often
Title
I Should Do It More Often
Creator
Jacob Schlitt
Description
"Fran and I are going through a difficult period."
Date
2013-07-01
Format
application/pdf
Type
text
Language
en
Coverage
2013
Identifier
I_SHOULD_DO_IT_MORE_OFTEN
Text
I SHOULD DO IT MORE OFTEN
Fran and I are going through a difficult period. She is filled with anger and rage. There seems to be nothing I can do to change this. It has occurred before, and I simply waited it out. I tried to be understanding, knowing how fragile she has become. Fran lives with the fear of cancer, the frustration caused by her inability to walk without the walker, the lack of energy, the knowledge that everything takes a long time. She is aware that everything is a mess. So Fran deals with it by complaining about everything I do. And I resent it, and then I get angry, and so we go on, each of us, angry. Fran rants, and I seethe. When I do respond to her anger, the hostility escalates.
It was late Sunday afternoon. Fran had let loose with another outburst. It is truly amazing what she has been able to come up with: the concert we went to on her birthday which she had no interest in. I had had it. And I did something I had never done before. I left the house. However, before leaving the house, I checked the schedule at the Coolidge Corner Theatre. They had four different movies all starting between 7 pm and 7:30 pm. Perfect. Plenty of time to have a bite and go to a movie.
I got the car and drove to Chef Chow’s, and had a bowl of beef fried rice. Wonderful. Delicious. Relaxing. The waitress was pleasant, the surrounding familiar. When I finished my meal, I drove to the theatre, two blocks away, and parked in their parking lot.
As I walked to the box-office, not sure which movie to see, a young man asked me if I was planning to see “Much Ado About Nothing.” I said I was thinking about it. He said he has an extra senior’s ticket for the show, which was for his mother-in-law who was unable to come. What a neat way to make up my mind. He gave me the ticket. I wanted to pay him for it, but he refused to take anything. I thanked him, entered the theatre, found a seat, and saw a wonderful movie, a very modern and clever adaptation of Shakespeare’s play.
I returned home, feeling much calmer. I said nothing to Fran. She said nothing to me. As usual, she went to bed to rest, and got up a few hours later when I came to bed. When Fran got up around noon, I described my morning, but still said nothing about last evening. The anger has gone down a few notches.
Fran and I are going through a difficult period. She is filled with anger and rage. There seems to be nothing I can do to change this. It has occurred before, and I simply waited it out. I tried to be understanding, knowing how fragile she has become. Fran lives with the fear of cancer, the frustration caused by her inability to walk without the walker, the lack of energy, the knowledge that everything takes a long time. She is aware that everything is a mess. So Fran deals with it by complaining about everything I do. And I resent it, and then I get angry, and so we go on, each of us, angry. Fran rants, and I seethe. When I do respond to her anger, the hostility escalates.
It was late Sunday afternoon. Fran had let loose with another outburst. It is truly amazing what she has been able to come up with: the concert we went to on her birthday which she had no interest in. I had had it. And I did something I had never done before. I left the house. However, before leaving the house, I checked the schedule at the Coolidge Corner Theatre. They had four different movies all starting between 7 pm and 7:30 pm. Perfect. Plenty of time to have a bite and go to a movie.
I got the car and drove to Chef Chow’s, and had a bowl of beef fried rice. Wonderful. Delicious. Relaxing. The waitress was pleasant, the surrounding familiar. When I finished my meal, I drove to the theatre, two blocks away, and parked in their parking lot.
As I walked to the box-office, not sure which movie to see, a young man asked me if I was planning to see “Much Ado About Nothing.” I said I was thinking about it. He said he has an extra senior’s ticket for the show, which was for his mother-in-law who was unable to come. What a neat way to make up my mind. He gave me the ticket. I wanted to pay him for it, but he refused to take anything. I thanked him, entered the theatre, found a seat, and saw a wonderful movie, a very modern and clever adaptation of Shakespeare’s play.
I returned home, feeling much calmer. I said nothing to Fran. She said nothing to me. As usual, she went to bed to rest, and got up a few hours later when I came to bed. When Fran got up around noon, I described my morning, but still said nothing about last evening. The anger has gone down a few notches.
Original Format
application/msword
Citation
Jacob Schlitt, “I Should Do It More Often,” Autobiographical stories & other writing by Jacob Schlitt, accessed April 30, 2024, https://tsirlson.omeka.net/items/show/210.