A Man Named Dave

hot water to shower with, praying my underwear I just washed in the sink three hours ago before I went to bed is dry, so I have a chance of giving my son a better life! I eat shit every single day, praying I can plant a seed – just one, that’s all. I know I’m a joke, but I give it my all. I just want people to feel good about themselves. That’s it. I know what it’s like to be less than zero, and I want everyone I meet to feel they’re the one. The one person who can go out there and make it better. And sometimes in the midst of all this crap, I can make ’em laugh. I have a gift, and if I can use it to better people’s lives so they won’t have to go through the hell my brothers and I went through, well… I’ll do what I have to do,” I concluded.
    Not even a heartbeat later Patsy retorted, “It doesn’t change the fact. You … you had your chance. You can pass off that Mister ‘high and mighty, holier-than-thou, give my word’ shit to others, but you’re a liar. No matter how you slice it, you promised two years. I’m getting tired of waiting. What about me? I’m tired of waiting for something better to come along. Don’t you get it? You’re a loser! You ain’t ever gonna make it. You’re a loser with a big L,” Patsy said, making an L sign with her hand. “That’s it. I’ve waited and I’ve had enough. So here it is: Do you love me?”
    Still angry, I hesitated to clear my head. After a few seconds I slowly nodded.
    “No,” Patsy insisted, “I want to hear it. After all the shit you’ve put me through, I deserve to hear the words. Say it!” she demanded.
    Again, I exhaled before nodding. “I … I … love you.”
    Cocking her head to one side. Patsy sneered. “Well, then, do you trust me?”
    Without a moment’s hesitation, I replied, “No!”
    After years of hiding it, gently treading around the smallest detail that might explode in my face at any second since I had known her, I said it. I finally spoke the truth that had weighed so heavily on my heart since I first knew Patsy. As much as I was astounded by my revelation right in front of her, I felt cleansed even more.
    Patsy was paralyzed. As I waited for her to slap me across the face, she continued to stare at me. “I’m sorry,” I stuttered, “I love you … and I always will … I’m sorry, but … I just don’t…”
    “Well, if that don’t… I can’t believe it! After all I’ve put up with. The sacrifices I’ve made. That’s it! I’ve had enough. I can’t live with anyone who … You broke your word!” she exclaimed. “Two years! You said two years. Trust? I don’t trust you. And I will not live with any man I can’t trust. That’s it!” Patsy shrieked, “I want a divorce!”

14 – Resolve
    After eight years of marriage, Patsy and I separated late July 1994. We sat down with Stephen to tell him the news. Even though he seemed to take it in his stride, my heart went out to him. Above everything, I never wanted Stephen to experience the loss and suffering that I had felt when my parents split up. Since the day I was married, I had fought so hard to protect my son from every conceivable source of harm, and now I had failed at the most basic element of my role as a father –keeping my family together.
    After several private conversations with Stephen, I realized he seemed more comfortable about the separation than I was. I promised him that no matter what happened between his mother and me, our devotion for him would never change.
    It took a broken marriage and nearly thirty years for me to fulfill my childhood dream of living on the Russian River. Even though Patsy hinted that our current state of separation might be temporary, I couldn’t bring myself to tell her that once I moved out, there was no turning back for me.
    Because I was on the road, working when Patsy and I had decided our fate, she surprised me by taking the time to find me a one-bedroom summer home near the Russian River. The day I moved to Guerneville, Patsy graciously drove the U-Haul truck over one hundred eighty miles to my new home. Later that day, as we hugged good-bye and wiped away our tears, I thought we both felt the frustration and anxiety that had built up over the years begin to fade.
    Due to the small size of the house and only a desk, bookshelf, and bureau for furniture, it took me less than two days to arrange my new home. Soon Stephen came to stay with me for two weeks. We were inseparable, spending our time stacking wood, fishing at the river, playing catch in the middle of the