Getting Away with Murder

An idiom: "To escape punishment for or detection of an egregiously blameworthy act."
Informal: "To do as one pleases without ever being punished."

One of the most compelling arguments in favor of traditional marriage is the civilizing effect a woman has on a man. Being the product of 50 years of this civilizing, I can say that I am better and everything and everyone I touch is better, because I have had Bettie in my life. It's not that she isn't still in my life, but, at least for now, it is different...and I could revert, I could get away with murder (figuratively, of course).

This realization comes on slowly, creeping into my consciousness like shadows on a summer evening:

"She would probably never know if I..."

"Now is my chance to..."

"I don't think she'll ever miss..."

Some of these thoughts are benign and practical: I saved a little on our car insurance by taking her off the policy and promising to deactivate her driver's license; I moved the bedroom phone from her side of the bed to mine; I'll cancel her cell phone service soon. These are just practical little things, right? Should I tell her? Should I ask her permission? I don't know. But other thoughts feel kind of creepy to me.

Yesterday I was putting something away in an office file drawer. The drawer was pretty full, and I knew very well why: It was half full of folders she had stuffed with travel articles of places we might like to go sometime, or pictures cut from magazines showing attractively appointed rooms...or furniture...or gardens. Just dreams on paper that could be easily duplicated electronically in a few seconds with a web browser and Google.

I had a half-dozen folders emptied, bound for the recycle bin before the guilt hit me: "Getting away with murder I see," I said to myself.

I went into the Family Room, knelt down by the couch where she was lying, and told her what I was doing. We've had this conversation before...it always ended with: "No, I'll go through those things soon." This time she agreed, with a knowing look that said: "Probably not for awhile, huh?"
"Yea," I said, "...that stuff is old anyway."

It got pitched...but because I asked, I got a reduction from felony to misdemeanor. I felt better anyway.

Now I'm telling myself: "Just because you can get away with murder, doesn't mean you should. Go slow here." I don't want to throw away the irreplaceable: Bettie's civilizing influence, just so things can be the way I think they should. That would be a giant step backward.