The Memory of an Elephant

by Alex Lasker

Looking back on this period from several years on, Jean was able to see the first cracks in her marriage but, like all happy unions that go off the rails in their second or third decade, she didn’t recognize them at the time. The small resentments that she put in a drawer and shut away grew over the years until they burst from their darkness. The way upper class mothers had to quietly go along with their husbands’ decisions—for instance having little say in how their kids were schooled—was just the first crack.

“You knew who I was when you married me, what gives you the right to make me feel guilty about who I am now? About how I make my living?” The silences after these talks were long and heavy, not only because this was tied to his identity as a male, but because it was the essential difference between the two of their philosophies, even their personalities. How, she thought now as the airliner began its descent over the Channel, would they even be able to stay together—as friends, as parents, as lovers—when their differences were so profound?

There is a moment in most failed marriages that, if acknowledged and dealt with, can possibly save the relationship. If missed, there is no

Russell realized he was on the brink of that moment, and the certainty of this made his heart cold with fear.

At least this would go a long way towards saving his marriage.

In almost every life there is a moment where a choice is made that changes everything from that point on, thought Amanda many years later. The road not taken, the courage to speak up or remain silent in the face of a bully, the career chosen or abandoned, the lover married or spurned—the decision and its effects are only apparent with time. And there is no way to go back and change it. For better or worse, a life’s course is set from that moment on.