Yesterday’s Garbage

Imogene felt as if she had been tossed on the curb like yesterday’s garbage. A broken household item or toy disposed of in a bright plastic bag. She was old, used up, and it was high time for a replacement with the newer, younger model. Thirty years of cooking, cleaning, raising three kids and she was discarded like unwanted trash. Jeff served her the divorce papers out of the blue. A brick to the side of the head would have left less impact. He didn’t even have the audacity to serve them himself. A brash man wearing stagnate cologne, walked up to her out of nowhere in the church parking lot. In front of the parishioners after the eleven o’clock service, he boldly called her name.

“Imogene Karlson?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

“I have some legal documents for you.”

He shoved the manilla envelope into her hands without remorse. He had pushed himself right into her personal space, uninvited. She felt attacked, wronged, and terrified. The fear it instilled in Imogene would eventually dissipate like dew on the morning grass. However, the humiliation of being a divorced woman at her age, will stick to her, resembling a cotton dress in the August humidity.

Jeff did the math. He knew the cost of alimony and child support with one child still living at home. It was more than he was willing to pay. Jeff decided taking out the garbage was not enough. He dug deep in the junk drawer and found a forgotten silver spoon from years ago, Imogene’s reputation. He would tarnish that as well. He told lies to anyone who would lend him an ear. He claimed she was abusive, had a secret boyfriend in the cities, and she was a raging alcoholic. He went so far as to say, “She is a crazy old bat, just like a few members in her family.”

Jeff suddenly became parent-of-the-year and knew what would be best for their daughter. To keep his miniscule wealth, he was going to do whatever it took to gain custody of her. Jeff felt no obligation to Imogene. He was going to kick her out of the home she had raised her children in, with intentions of staying there himself, king of his castle. He showed no concern Imogene had not worked outside of the home for thirty years or that she would still need health insurance, a car, and a place to live. He didn’t care one iota her skills were obsolete in the fast world she had not been able to keep up with as a stay-at-home mother. With a flat voice and hollow stare, he told Imogene she could just find a job at a gas station for all he was concerned.

He did not care how he did it or who he took down in the process. He planned on divorcing Imogene at little cost to himself. Without tying up the bag, he tossed out the garbage for all to pick through and glean from it what they wanted, because people talk in a small town.

Most stopped listening to Jeff because they knew the truth. His desperation oozed and festered like a boil three days past due from popping. He looked for help from those who couldn’t help him, and those who refused to help him. He floundered and made his course back upstream against the current. He tired and staggered as he plotted with deviance to no avail. It was his well-established anger that finally did him in.

Imogene realized she walked with her head down. Her once vibrant smile laid flat on her face. She no longer styled her hair and she forgot how to apply her make-up. Her tattered and stained clothing draped over her tired body like worn out upholstery.

Squashed under Jeff’s heavy thumb for thirty years, Imogene was going to do something better for herself. Imogene built herself back up. She climbed her mountain, scrambling over abrasive rocks. Clinging to its side, terrified she might fall. She nourished herself on wild blueberries and put her trust into her guide. She toppled here and there, stumbling over thick roots exposed by years of erosion. Imogene persevered. Placing of one foot right in front of the other, with skilled precision, she crossed narrow bridges hundreds of feet high. They afforded Imogene no safety rails or nets, just open air. Whenever Imogene reached the other side, she never stopped to look back at what she had conquered. Her focus was on what still laid ahead.

The battle from the top of the mountain, will always look all downhill. Imogene knows there will be more hills to climb, ankles will roll, and there will be sudden gasps as she clings to a branch for security. From time to time, she will find herself on the edge of a cliff as she weaves her way down the mountain. She will fight for what she knows is rightfully hers. When all is said and done, and her feet solid on the ground, she will tie that bag tight. Polished, she will finally have the strength and boldly walk up to the curb. With great ceremony, Imogene will toss out yesterday’s garbage.