Unconditional Love Defined

If a day can make a difference, then two years can make a miracle. It isn't the hocus-pocus, wave-of-a-magic-wand, Las Vegas lounge act miracle, either. No siree; this is a true, bona fide, 'certificate of authenticity included' miracle that saved a man's very existence. No magic lamp. No leprechaun. No top hat. Its the type of miracle that was planted in pain and grew into respect, happiness and trust, and it proves the existence of unconditional love.

Times were tough for the family and everyone was in their own world. The middle boy was busy keeping one step ahead of his behaviorists and clinicians, dad and step-mom had serious issues with a newborn and the other two kids were left to pretty much fend for themselves and each other in the meantime. As far as low points go, a move up to "Chaos" would have been a relief. Its no surprise that this family ---our family --- was headed for either Reactor Core Meltdown or Whew, That Was Close. We were hoping that the light we saw in the distance was the end of the tunnel. It turned out to be a train.

Instead of uniting to find a way out of the tunnel together, we each took different switch tracks. Lori's route immersed her in the complications of our recently born preemie daughter. She was so involved in everything Madison, it would have seemed that she and the baby were the only two that mattered at the time. Sadly, we had issues with my son then as well --- maybe he was bi-polar; maybe I didn't spank him enough when he was younger (that was my Dad's take on it); maybe he was just a handful. Either way, all that eventually spilled into my wife's already-stress soaked lap and she withdrew so far I couldn't find her. I could easily have listened for the heart monitor, the oxygen regulator and the screaming, had I not already turned myself onto a completely separate track and headed toward my own exit.

I Love You, I'm Just Not in Love with You

Without excuse, explanation or justification, I admit that I found my way into the company of another woman. For two years I was living two lives. Looking back now, the saddest part of all is that Lori believed every lie I was telling her. She bought every "I'll be at a friend's house" and "I'll be late because the office is on fire" that I threw at her during my daughter's first years of her life. But that isn't to say its because I was slick or she is naive. My own cleverness had nothing to do with it. She believed me because that's what a wife does. And a wife does that because she doesn't have to worry about the man she married. She has turned even her own trust over to him. How I mistreated that confidence.

When I let myself finally see that I was derailing my family, when the lies got too thin, when she started checking and rechecking her facts, I knew it was time. Though I did her wrong and committed the ultimate sin a man could perpetrate against his spouse, I do care about the feelings of others. Say what you will, but my intention was never to hurt my wife or family. The pain was a byproduct of my actions, not the purpose. So I realized the time was imminent to spill my guts and take what was coming to me. I had been telling my children for all the years they could listen that you are responsible for your own actions. If not for my wife or myself, I owed it to them to be the man I was expected to be.

I had made unintelligent choices up to that point, but being ready for every outcome wasn't one of them. I readied a bag and put it in my car, then when the kids went to bed, I took one last deep breath. As my dry, deceitful mouth opened, I could feel the wrong words pouring out. Oh, I gave my confession, but when the tears fell and the questions started, I quoted a cliche that protected me one last time, and cut her deeper than the offense I had stabbed her with in the first place.

"I still love you; I'm just not in love with you any more." If I had run her over with the car, she would have felt less pain. It was a lie, but I wanted out at the time. I was wrong and wanted to run away. The 'Jon' inside said that this admission would probably seal that fate, and after I peaked in on the kids one last time I headed for the door. That's what you do when you admit to two years of infidelity, lies and deceit. Apparently my wife never heard of Dr. Phil at that point.

"Where do you think you're going?" she asked me point blank. The question caused me to lose my ability to speak, and all I could do was point at the door.

"Oh no," she demanded. "There's no way after what you did that you are going to be the one to decide that ten years is over. I still love you, you bastard. You aren't getting out of this that easily."

Unconditional Love Defined

There it was. The confession was staining the walls and floor of the living room and the stench was awful. And Lori wanted me to stay right there and clean it up with her. She had invested all of her time and body into making a family for me, putting up with the boys and bill collectors that I brought into the marriage. The relationship was more than a spiritual joining for her. It was a living, breathing being and there was no way she was going to let it die because of my idiotic indiscretion.

We talked. Then when we were done, she wanted to talk some more. She made me admit some painful secrets; I made her cry. Her mother told her to toss me to the street; I told Lori that wouldn't be a bad idea. She asked me to go to counseling; I held her hand as we walked through the door together. She made me realize that I wasn't out of love with her at all; I had just let someone else darken space that she was supposed to illuminate. She has told me every day since that she loves me and she's happy that I chose to stay; I've done everything I can to show her she made the right choice to let me. I tell her often that I'm sorry. She tells me she knows.

And now when I call her to tell her I'm on my way home --- that I left late because I was talking to someone, she says the same thing every time: "I know. I trust you."

She's the strongest person I know.