I Want A Slave

I met Carl the first year I was in practice.  He came in for something small, a consult or a letter.  A year or so later, he came back.  He smiled and said, “Marian Lindquist, you’re the first lawyer I ever came back to see a second time.  Do you know why?  You’re the only lawyer I ever met who didn’t screw me over.”  He had a great sense of humor.

At some point Carl bought his wife, Rae, with him, probably to do estate planning.  Rae and Carl had both been previously married.  Carl was married several times.  Carl had children.  Rae did not.  Carl was a salesman.  Rae was a housewife.  Rae had a lot more money than Carl.

After Carl retired they moved to a 55+ community three counties to the north where life was slower and cheaper.  They always stayed in touch.  They still saw their doctors and dentist in Broward, and kept their Broward lawyer, me.

Rae died unexpectedly.  When you are a solo lawyer who represents individuals you share your client’s milestones because they need to know what to do during those markers.  I spoke with Carl frequently.  After several months Carl told me he missed his wife more than he ever thought he would.  It pained him how much he missed her and it particularly pained him as to why.  When Rae was alive he never realized how much she did for him.  She took care of everything.  She paid the bills.  He never had to worry about anything or do anything for himself.  She put food in front of him.  She cleaned.  She kept the house stocked.  It was like she was his slave. 

He thought about looking for a new wife, but when he did he thought about the qualities he wanted in the woman and he realized he was looking for a slave.  He didn’t want to tell a woman, “I want a slave.” 

Men were in high demand in his 55+ community.  He had no lack of women bringing him food and expressing an interest in him, but other than for friendship Carl was not interested.  He felt guilty for not recognizing and expressing his gratitude to Rae for all she had done.  He did not want to use another woman like a slave.  He was ashamed.  Before Rae died he thought of himself as self-sufficient.  He realized he had been deceiving himself.

Carl survived Rae by 7 years.  He never remarried.  He got deeply involved with his church, volunteering time, contributing money.  He contributed a building.   He called me frequently.  He didn’t even have legal problems.  He was lonely.  Shortly before he died he drove down to Broward County and stopped in to see me.  He was skinny and frail.  He wanted to tell me how much he appreciated me.  I was touched.  After he died his son told me he looked forward to meeting me, because his father liked me so much.  I know, I thought, I never screwed him over.

As a lawyer I live in a privileged world where I get to see life from so many angles, because I talk to so many people who share their deeply personal issues with me.  It took Carl a lifetime and the death of his last wife to realize love is action, it is what you do.