If I remember correctly it was early in the morning and I was just finishing up with the details of chapter three in Courage when the phone rang. On the other end was a woman I had been working with (I met this woman during a traumatic time in her life when her husband of eleven years had just left her and their beautiful five year old daughter for another woman... a woman he had been sleeping with during their marriage--(asshole)). She was hysterical. Her breathing short, sobbing.

"Breathe." I said to her.

"Maybe it was because I was a terrible housekeeper. I bet her house is clean." Her voice still shaky. "He always hated the fact that the house was cluttered. Maybe if I did a better job? Maybe then he would have stayed?"

"Wait a minute." I said. "Where is all this coming from? Tell me what happened?"

"Nothing happened!" She snapped at me. "After i got the baby off to school I started looking around and I started thinking maybe that was it. Maybe if I just kept things cleaner? Maybe then he would have stayed?" It was still difficult to make out the words through her shaky sobs.

"Take a few deep breaths." I asked of her. "Let me see if I am hearing you right?"

"Okay." She breathed.

"Your husband left you because you kept a cluttered house?"

"Yes. Maybe that is it." She cried.

"And he stuck his thing in her bucket because she had a clean house?" I asked.

"Well, yeah." She was beginning to calm. "She probably does everything better." She began to excite again. "I was just looking around and everything is a mess."

"Hold on a second." I demanded. "She lives alone, does she not?"

"Well, yeah."

"And his two kids, the ones that used to live with you and he, they are back with their mother, right?"

"Well, yeah. I told you that."

"Just play along with me for a minute okay?"

She was steadying, "Okay."

"And you have your daughter, she has no kids, Right?"

"But maybe if I did more. I mean, maybe if kept the house better... maybe if I was a better cook--I bet she is a good cook. Maybe, maybe he would have loved me more."

"Wait a minute. Lets back up. Tell me how your day started?"

"Well I got, Jessie (totally fake name) off to school."

"No before that... you woke up--wait, how well did you sleep last night?"

"Not good. My mind kept racing. I don't think I got to sleep till about three."

"And what time did you get up?"

"About 6."

"And when you woke up what did you do?"

"I cried."

"And what were you crying about? What was going on in your head?"

"I just kept thinking about him leaving me and jessie. How could he have done that? What did I do wrong?"

"And how long did that go on for?"

"I don't know for about an hour. I kept telling myself I had to pull myself together so I could get jessie up, make her breakfast and get her ready for school--"

"And did you do that?"

"Well, I first laid with her for a bit. You know this has been hard on her. I like to wake her up slowly. So I laid with her talking her awake."

"And were you crying?"

"No. Of course not. I was just talking with her."

"And about how long was that."

"I don't know, maybe twenty minutes."

"And then what did you do?"

"I made her breakfast and her lunch."

"And then?..."

"I walked her to school."

"And then?..."

"I started to work on some purses... but I just couldn't stop thinking about things. I kept looking around me--"

"And the purses?... did you get your ebay account set up yesterday, so you could sell them?"

"Well you know..."

"Stay with me here."

"Yes."

"You are a very talented artist. Do you know that?"

"Well, I don't feel that way."

"Yes, well you are. And that beautiful baby of yours, she's pretty special, isn't she?"

"Yes, she is."

"And when your husband was off boinking someone else you were there not only starting your own business you were raising your daughter and his two kids too... isn't that right?"

"You know he was working for the studios, he worked long hours--"

"Just stay with me here."

"Yes."

"Are you glad you were involved in his kids lives?"

"You know I am. Their mother just couldn't take care of them. I was glad I was there for them. You know that."

"So would you rather those kids be homeless and your purses never seeing the light of day or a tiddy house?"

"What?"

"Well, would you rather create things or clean them?.. cause lets face, there really isn't any such thing as superwoman."

She started to laugh. "Create things."

"Look, that woman has no kids. She lives alone and has no desire to have children. She has no personal goals outside of getting up every morning and going to work... oh, and stealing other woman's husbands. . . so she has no loyalties-- Let's face it, you or I would never go out with a married man. We just wouldn't do that to another woman."

"Well, that's true ."

"And they are both bound to do it again. With other people and to themselves."

"Very likely."

"So no matter who you were or what you did it never would have been enough?"

"I suppose so."

"Honey, love isn't an act based on conditions. Love is the condition. You get that. Right?"

"Yeah, I get that."

"So I guess when it all boils down; would you rather be a spiritual, inspirational, principled woman; be artistic and create all those beautiful things you bring to the world and raise and love those kids the way you do or have an immaculate house, wearing an apron making a better homes and garden dinner, sleeping with someone else's husband?"

"Be a good mom and be creative and principled."

"Now that's my point!"

There you have it folks... it made it in the book... well, not like above, but it is in there all the same.