In February of 1979, when I was barely 12 years old, my father and I went fishing. It was a special time for me, since dad and I just never quite seemed to get along. We spent the entire day together, and we actually talked. I will never forget what he told me that day.
He said, “Son, life is all about the roll of the dice. You will roll that dice many times, but, be careful that it doesn't, one day, end up on the floor.” It's meaning, however, would not become clear to me until 25 years later.
Three days later he was gone. He had gassed himself in his car, while my mom, 2 sisters and I were sleeping peacefully upstairs. At that tender age you blame yourself. What did I do to make him want to leave? If only I had known what to do to make him stay. Of course, as young as I was, I would never have understood the reasons for my father committing suicide. Only as an adult would I find myself in his shoes, and, finally, feeling empathy for the man who left us without warning.
The day I met Cassandra was, for me, the day my life really began. It's funny how you can walk down the same school corridors, be in the same classroom and cafeteria day after day and, yet, not really see someone. Not until, one day, fate intervenes and you have no choice but to take notice. I was on my way to gym class. My mind was all over the place and, at 17 years of age, I thought I knew everything. I tried everything, from alcohol to drugs, to sex, but none of it meant anything to me. It was just a way to pass the time. I wasn't watching where I was going and, before I knew what was happening, I walked into a wall. Or, at least, in my state of mind, that's what I thought I had done. I rubbed my forehead and looked up and, instead of seeing the dirty cream wall of the corridor, I looked into the face of an angel. She had the smoothest, palest skin I had ever seen, with freckles seemingly dancing all over her nose and cheeks. I must have stared for at least two minutes before I realised that her books were lying all over the floor.
“I'm so sorry,” I said. “I should have been watching where I was going.” I bent down to collect her books. “Thank you,” she said in a croaky voice. “I must be honest, I wasn't watching where I was walking either.” She looked down at her feet, sheepishly. “Mom said I should have stayed home today, and I guess she was right, as always.”
“Why is that?” I asked, “I mean, why did your mom tell you to stay home? Are you ill?”
“Sort of,” she replied. “I caught the flu this weekend while out fishing with my cousins. They ask me each and every time to go with them and, usually, I decline, but for some unknown reason, this time, I decided to go. I should have guessed I would end up paying for it in some way.” She giggled and I smiled.
“Yes, I guess Murphy likes to do that sometimes.” She looked at me with a puzzled expression, but, after a moment, she seemed to understand what I meant. She smiled then and said,
“That's true. My name is Cassie, by the way.” She reached out her hand and I shook it awkwardly.
“Hi. I'm Steven. Steven Conway.”
“Hi, Steven.” She let go of my hand. “Well, I better get going or I'll be late for class. It was nice running into you.” The pun of her words made me smile, before, taking her books from me, which I didn't realise I was still holding, she walked away. I watched her go and it felt as if the light was walking out of my life. That day I met the woman who was to become my wife, and the mother of my children. I never did get to gym class, but I found meaning. I found something to live for. Never, in my wildest dreams, or nightmares, did I think that I would stand to lose it all, because of a single roll of the dice. A decision I would regret so much I would rather die than live without Cassandra, Bettany and Joseph.
After that fateful day in the corridor, I discovered that Cassie was in my Biology class. I made a point of speaking to her before and after every class for 2 weeks, before I finally summoned up the courage and asked her out. We dated for nearly 6 years before I asked her to marry me and she said yes. Two years later, on 17 October 1992, we were married in a private ceremony with only my mother, her parents, my two sisters and her younger brother present. It was the most poignant day of our lives and, thinking back on it, I don't think we had ever been happier. A year later Cass gave birth to Bettany. She was a beautiful child, just like her mother. They say a father is always protective of his daughter and, on that life-changing day, I understood it. I felt it. If anyone would dare do anything to hurt my little girl, I would surely break them in two with my bare hands. Her brother, Joseph, arrived 3 years later. At last a son to go to the ball games with, to play catch with and to take on fishing trips. My life was perfect. I loved my wife and my two children dearly, they were my world. We were the postcard family for a further 7 years. Then, I met Melissa.
Sales were slow at the auto shop in mid-January 2004. I had last sold a Merc to a very burly, sarcastic stock-broker in December. He was bombastic enough that, if I had less metal, he would have walked away with the car for free. I would have forgone the commission just to get him out of my face. So I was extremely enthusiastic when I saw a client walk into the shop, looking at the Audi's on display.
“Goodday to you, ma'am,” I said. “How may I help you today?” She looked at me with sad, brown eyes.
“Hello. Yes, please. I'm wanting to buy a car. Nothing fancy. Just a little run-about.” She glanced at the Chevrolet's parked in the showroom. “Maybe one of those,” she said.
“Yes, ma'am. That's a good choice. The fuel consumption, for one, is easy on the pocket. Would you like to take one out for a test drive?”
“Yes, that will be fine. Thank you.” She seemed very uneasy.
“I'll be back in a moment,” I said, and went in search of keys. Vince, the owner, was sitting in his office. He smirked as I walked in.
“Nice li'l dish tha',” and indicated the young lady, still looking at the Chevy's.
“Ah, come on, Vince.”
“Wha'? I'm jus' sayin'!”
“Yeah, yeah. Hand me the blue Chevy's keys there will you, please?”
He handed me the keys, smiled, said, “Good luck to ya!” and winked. I shook my head and walked out. What was he thinking? I was a happily married man! I approached her, gave her the keys, and said,
“Here we go. Let's take her out and see how she runs for you.”
We didn't go very far and soon we were back.
“So, what do you think?”
“Yes, she runs very nicely, and is easy to handle. I'll take it.” I nodded, smiled and said,
“It's a very good choice and I'm sure she will give you years of driving pleasure. My office is this way.”
She followed me into the office and signed all the documentation. Melissa Grant was her name. She stood as I handed her the documents, shook my hand, smiled, still with the sadness in her eyes, and left. I watched her leave and it felt like deja vu. It also felt wrong. For days I couldn't get this young woman out of my mind. I'd go home at night, be with my wife, my family, but my mind would wonder nevertheless. Two weeks later I ran into her at the local supermarket.
“Hello again,” I said. “How's the Chevy going?” She looked at me like a scared rabbit before recognising me. “Oh, hello. Yes, yes, she's fine. Running fine.” I felt that familiar tug again. Then I found myself inviting her out for coffee and I was surprised when she accepted. We went for coffee regularly after that. She told me that her former boyfriend had abused her. It explained why she always seemed so weary, afraid, shy, childlike almost. I fell for her easily, wanted to protect her. I can't remember when we started sleeping together, it all happened so quickly. Before I knew it I was in way too deep, and knew I had to get out. I didn't want to lose my family because of my stupidity. I had taken this way too far and was beginning to regret it. Every night, lying next to Cassie, I felt sick to my stomach with fear. My life had never been such a mess. How could I do this to my loving wife? She didn't deserve this after so many years. I would give anything, including my life, to have things back to the way they were. But how? I had to get a woman's perspective and there was only one person I could speak to whom I could trust. My mother. The idea filled me with dread, but I had no choice. It was the only way.
“You did what?” I did not like the look on my mother's face. “Oh, Steven, how could you? Did I not teach you anything?” She sobbed and it made me feel so ashamed.
“I'm sorry, Mama.” I didn't know what else to say. It was a few minutes before she looked up at me and said, “Steven, sit down.” I sat. She glanced at me and sighed before saying, “Do you know why your father killed himself?” I wasn't expecting that.
“No, Mama.” The tears rolled down her cheeks.
“What you have done? Your father did the same. To me. To his family.” She looked weary. “To you.”
I just sat there. Dad's words on that fishing trip came back to me, and I understood. I had rolled the dice once too many times. And now they were lying on the floor. It was up to me to either do what he did, take my own life, or make amends with the people I loved most. Seeing my mother in that state, at that moment, I made my decision. I would not die like my father and be thought a coward. I would end this thing with Melissa. Her heart would be the unfortunate casualty, but I had to put my family first. Making amends with Cassandra, Bettany and Joseph would be my first priority. My only priority. My father's death taught me the biggest lesson in my life: appreciate and look after what you already have. Don't go looking for something better or it could cost you everything, including your own life.
I got up from the couch, walked towards my mother and knelt before her.
“Thank you, Mama. I think it's time to take responsibility for my actions. Let me go do what Daddy never had the strength to do. Fight for the ones I love most. I love you, Mama.” I started walking towards the door. “Steven.” I turned around and she smiled. “I'm proud of you, my son. And your daddy would be proud of you too.”
Nothing in this world could have prepared me better for the battle I had to face. And I would face it with dignity.
THE END
He said, “Son, life is all about the roll of the dice. You will roll that dice many times, but, be careful that it doesn't, one day, end up on the floor.” It's meaning, however, would not become clear to me until 25 years later.
Three days later he was gone. He had gassed himself in his car, while my mom, 2 sisters and I were sleeping peacefully upstairs. At that tender age you blame yourself. What did I do to make him want to leave? If only I had known what to do to make him stay. Of course, as young as I was, I would never have understood the reasons for my father committing suicide. Only as an adult would I find myself in his shoes, and, finally, feeling empathy for the man who left us without warning.
The day I met Cassandra was, for me, the day my life really began. It's funny how you can walk down the same school corridors, be in the same classroom and cafeteria day after day and, yet, not really see someone. Not until, one day, fate intervenes and you have no choice but to take notice. I was on my way to gym class. My mind was all over the place and, at 17 years of age, I thought I knew everything. I tried everything, from alcohol to drugs, to sex, but none of it meant anything to me. It was just a way to pass the time. I wasn't watching where I was going and, before I knew what was happening, I walked into a wall. Or, at least, in my state of mind, that's what I thought I had done. I rubbed my forehead and looked up and, instead of seeing the dirty cream wall of the corridor, I looked into the face of an angel. She had the smoothest, palest skin I had ever seen, with freckles seemingly dancing all over her nose and cheeks. I must have stared for at least two minutes before I realised that her books were lying all over the floor.
“I'm so sorry,” I said. “I should have been watching where I was going.” I bent down to collect her books. “Thank you,” she said in a croaky voice. “I must be honest, I wasn't watching where I was walking either.” She looked down at her feet, sheepishly. “Mom said I should have stayed home today, and I guess she was right, as always.”
“Why is that?” I asked, “I mean, why did your mom tell you to stay home? Are you ill?”
“Sort of,” she replied. “I caught the flu this weekend while out fishing with my cousins. They ask me each and every time to go with them and, usually, I decline, but for some unknown reason, this time, I decided to go. I should have guessed I would end up paying for it in some way.” She giggled and I smiled.
“Yes, I guess Murphy likes to do that sometimes.” She looked at me with a puzzled expression, but, after a moment, she seemed to understand what I meant. She smiled then and said,
“That's true. My name is Cassie, by the way.” She reached out her hand and I shook it awkwardly.
“Hi. I'm Steven. Steven Conway.”
“Hi, Steven.” She let go of my hand. “Well, I better get going or I'll be late for class. It was nice running into you.” The pun of her words made me smile, before, taking her books from me, which I didn't realise I was still holding, she walked away. I watched her go and it felt as if the light was walking out of my life. That day I met the woman who was to become my wife, and the mother of my children. I never did get to gym class, but I found meaning. I found something to live for. Never, in my wildest dreams, or nightmares, did I think that I would stand to lose it all, because of a single roll of the dice. A decision I would regret so much I would rather die than live without Cassandra, Bettany and Joseph.
After that fateful day in the corridor, I discovered that Cassie was in my Biology class. I made a point of speaking to her before and after every class for 2 weeks, before I finally summoned up the courage and asked her out. We dated for nearly 6 years before I asked her to marry me and she said yes. Two years later, on 17 October 1992, we were married in a private ceremony with only my mother, her parents, my two sisters and her younger brother present. It was the most poignant day of our lives and, thinking back on it, I don't think we had ever been happier. A year later Cass gave birth to Bettany. She was a beautiful child, just like her mother. They say a father is always protective of his daughter and, on that life-changing day, I understood it. I felt it. If anyone would dare do anything to hurt my little girl, I would surely break them in two with my bare hands. Her brother, Joseph, arrived 3 years later. At last a son to go to the ball games with, to play catch with and to take on fishing trips. My life was perfect. I loved my wife and my two children dearly, they were my world. We were the postcard family for a further 7 years. Then, I met Melissa.
Sales were slow at the auto shop in mid-January 2004. I had last sold a Merc to a very burly, sarcastic stock-broker in December. He was bombastic enough that, if I had less metal, he would have walked away with the car for free. I would have forgone the commission just to get him out of my face. So I was extremely enthusiastic when I saw a client walk into the shop, looking at the Audi's on display.
“Goodday to you, ma'am,” I said. “How may I help you today?” She looked at me with sad, brown eyes.
“Hello. Yes, please. I'm wanting to buy a car. Nothing fancy. Just a little run-about.” She glanced at the Chevrolet's parked in the showroom. “Maybe one of those,” she said.
“Yes, ma'am. That's a good choice. The fuel consumption, for one, is easy on the pocket. Would you like to take one out for a test drive?”
“Yes, that will be fine. Thank you.” She seemed very uneasy.
“I'll be back in a moment,” I said, and went in search of keys. Vince, the owner, was sitting in his office. He smirked as I walked in.
“Nice li'l dish tha',” and indicated the young lady, still looking at the Chevy's.
“Ah, come on, Vince.”
“Wha'? I'm jus' sayin'!”
“Yeah, yeah. Hand me the blue Chevy's keys there will you, please?”
He handed me the keys, smiled, said, “Good luck to ya!” and winked. I shook my head and walked out. What was he thinking? I was a happily married man! I approached her, gave her the keys, and said,
“Here we go. Let's take her out and see how she runs for you.”
We didn't go very far and soon we were back.
“So, what do you think?”
“Yes, she runs very nicely, and is easy to handle. I'll take it.” I nodded, smiled and said,
“It's a very good choice and I'm sure she will give you years of driving pleasure. My office is this way.”
She followed me into the office and signed all the documentation. Melissa Grant was her name. She stood as I handed her the documents, shook my hand, smiled, still with the sadness in her eyes, and left. I watched her leave and it felt like deja vu. It also felt wrong. For days I couldn't get this young woman out of my mind. I'd go home at night, be with my wife, my family, but my mind would wonder nevertheless. Two weeks later I ran into her at the local supermarket.
“Hello again,” I said. “How's the Chevy going?” She looked at me like a scared rabbit before recognising me. “Oh, hello. Yes, yes, she's fine. Running fine.” I felt that familiar tug again. Then I found myself inviting her out for coffee and I was surprised when she accepted. We went for coffee regularly after that. She told me that her former boyfriend had abused her. It explained why she always seemed so weary, afraid, shy, childlike almost. I fell for her easily, wanted to protect her. I can't remember when we started sleeping together, it all happened so quickly. Before I knew it I was in way too deep, and knew I had to get out. I didn't want to lose my family because of my stupidity. I had taken this way too far and was beginning to regret it. Every night, lying next to Cassie, I felt sick to my stomach with fear. My life had never been such a mess. How could I do this to my loving wife? She didn't deserve this after so many years. I would give anything, including my life, to have things back to the way they were. But how? I had to get a woman's perspective and there was only one person I could speak to whom I could trust. My mother. The idea filled me with dread, but I had no choice. It was the only way.
“You did what?” I did not like the look on my mother's face. “Oh, Steven, how could you? Did I not teach you anything?” She sobbed and it made me feel so ashamed.
“I'm sorry, Mama.” I didn't know what else to say. It was a few minutes before she looked up at me and said, “Steven, sit down.” I sat. She glanced at me and sighed before saying, “Do you know why your father killed himself?” I wasn't expecting that.
“No, Mama.” The tears rolled down her cheeks.
“What you have done? Your father did the same. To me. To his family.” She looked weary. “To you.”
I just sat there. Dad's words on that fishing trip came back to me, and I understood. I had rolled the dice once too many times. And now they were lying on the floor. It was up to me to either do what he did, take my own life, or make amends with the people I loved most. Seeing my mother in that state, at that moment, I made my decision. I would not die like my father and be thought a coward. I would end this thing with Melissa. Her heart would be the unfortunate casualty, but I had to put my family first. Making amends with Cassandra, Bettany and Joseph would be my first priority. My only priority. My father's death taught me the biggest lesson in my life: appreciate and look after what you already have. Don't go looking for something better or it could cost you everything, including your own life.
I got up from the couch, walked towards my mother and knelt before her.
“Thank you, Mama. I think it's time to take responsibility for my actions. Let me go do what Daddy never had the strength to do. Fight for the ones I love most. I love you, Mama.” I started walking towards the door. “Steven.” I turned around and she smiled. “I'm proud of you, my son. And your daddy would be proud of you too.”
Nothing in this world could have prepared me better for the battle I had to face. And I would face it with dignity.
THE END
