The last of my new appliances were delivered today. Who knew
the purchasing of new appliances would bring such an onslaught of feelings.I recounted the last time I had new appliances delivered to
my coworker.I remembered that my ex knew they needed to be replaced —
as in subfloor rotting out underneath the old fridge and the rusty stove only
having three of five working burners, kind of replaced. That I had told him the
refrigerator he wanted was a few inches larger than our old one and that some
of the counter would need to be trimmed to accommodate. I’d just do it myself
now, but I digress. I remember them shoving it in anyway, and how it left a huge
crease all the way across the width of it. And afterward my ex showing me how
the fridge would get dented — because I picked out the
wrong size — by opening it way too far and, you guessed it, denting it — right
in the center of the door. It was not inside our home 10 minutes.
At first, when I had to stop at the four way just down from
my new home because I was sobbing so hard I could no longer drive, none of this
occurred to me. I like to think I’ve moved on. That somehow, I’m mostly done
with the grieving and trauma that only occasionally haunt me. But alas, there
it was, right at the edge.
My ex-husband got to know as much as he possibly could about
me. But not to help me. Not to know and understand me better. Not so that he
could be a better partner to me. No, he studied me like a cold-blooded predator
so that he could poke at every flaw, and stick a salted finger in every wound.
He pounced on every insecurity trying to ensure I was too weak to leave him and
too ashamed to think I could do anything else.He purposely ignored my requests to shave off the three
freaking quarters of an inch of counter in order for “my” new appliance to fit where
it needed to go. He purposely opened that door. He knew what he was doing. I felt so deflated that night. Like it wasn’t even worth the
hassle. Like I just should have let the old fridge fall into the basement. That
night, was a nightmare. He was mad and it was my fault.What had I done? I’d asked for nothing extravagant, nothing
any family doesn’t NEED for the kitchen.
I understand now where the anxiety came from when my new
appliances were delivered.
But they are EXACTLY what I wanted. I did not have to
explain why I needed them. I did not have to justify how they would save money.
I didn’t have to compromise on a color (although I think compromise is a good
thing). I suppose something or someone could dent them, but I can
guarantee it’ll be because of cooking up a storm, or laughing so hard something
dropped out of our hands. Or a dog accidently scratching it because we were
goofing around doing things we “shouldn’t have been doing” in my house!
Much love, grace and peace,
Danene
Danene K. Shumaker 