We had two preschool children. I was supporting us because Ken wanted to work, without pay, in a downtown Atlanta church that was newly integrating.
Even then he was all about "the big picture," saving the world, discovering new things about himself, etc. He had no time for the mundane.
I was all about being a mom and putting food on the table - not to mention being totally exhausted most of the time.
And then he came home one evening and told me about a trip he needed to take. I kind of went berserk inside. But I coped, as I did many times, by writing a poem about the experience and then selling the poem to a magazine for $25.
I don't remember but maybe that paid for gas money for "The Trip." Here's the poem:
THE TRIP
You explained to me,
(as the father explains
to the dull child why
he must do Important
Things and therefore is
semi permanently unavailable-
able)
That you had to go to one more
seminar,
That explores the inner man,
At a lakeside hotel,
in Florida,
Near Disney World, (as stated
in the letter)
At not a small financial and
emotional sacrifice to
all of us,
To, quote,
"Find myself."
Tell me,
Were you there?
***
