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The Pool


“When are they going to drain that damn pool?”

This was the question my exasperated counselor asked me.

He was worn thin from the constant dialogue on a favorite subject, my soon-to-be estranged husband’s daily outings to our country club swimming pool.

My charming counselor ran a children’s behavioral health clinic, the most prominent in the area. He rarely took on new clients as he was busy running the clinic and traveling the speaking circuit for his many published books.

But he took me on, even though I wasn’t a child. I just had a husband who was acting like one.

I loved my hour slot of his engaging time. My silent goal was to win him over with my wit. I couldn’t win over my own husband, so I felt it a worthy challenge. I savored the attention, something I was severely deprived.

Typically, my counselor found me warm and funny. I was sure I saw this his cool brown eyes. But on this particular day I saw something different. My confidant, a handsome man with flowing hair and slight build, had heard enough of this story.

I was lamenting yet again on how it was always me who took the boys to the pool in years past. Now my husband took. And I wasn’t invited.

I made myself crazy picturing my husband walking to the hand-picked lounge chair of sweaty plastic strips. The chair was kept cool by the towel carefully draped on it by his best friend’s wife who occupied the next chair.

His best friend wasn’t invited to the pool either.

As I sat in my counselor’s stale office, feeling the cool air rattling from the aging central air unit, I privately wondered why I was so worried about going to the pool anyway.

Hot. Sticky. Splashing kids…
My kids. My husband hanging out with his girlfriend. Ugh.

“I’m serious. When are they going to drain that damn pool? We need to move on from this.”

Contemplating my response and thinking again about the pool I wasn’t at; I watched the clock behind my counselor’s tanned face. A constant reminder that my hour of allotted time was ticking away.

What did my kids think? That I was too busy at work to spend lazy summer afternoons with them? Did they see the saved towel waiting on the lounge chair for their dad?

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

I could hear the muffled voices of people outside my counselor’s office. They were conversing next to the copy machine and coffee pot. The sounds floating through the crack under the door were tones of normalcy and happiness. When was my life last normal?

Tick. Tock.

It was time.

Time to drain the damn pool.

______________________________________________________________
Ten years later....new pool, new life :) #happy #normal #drainthedamnpool






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