The Light in My Heart

by Jerry Rosendorn

  I have great memories of that trip; it was the first time Annette and I traveled together. Her ex-husband had the children for the weekend; freeing us to leave Friday afternoon for a three-day getaway.

  Arriving after dark, we entered our room to find a bottle of wine and a welcoming note from the manager. I ordered in food and lit a fire. It was one of the first times in my life I wasn’t in a rush to get somewhere; enjoying every minute with Annette.

  We spent our time in Cambria strolling around the charming town and walking the boardwalk along the beach, dining at great restaurants, and enjoying each other’s company.

  The sex with Annette was unbelievable and it became the cornerstone of our relationship. Communication, however, was difficult; we fought all the time. I don’t know if it was because of our age gap, a cultural gap, an intellectual gap, or simply, because I was a strong-minded bull-headed insecure young male.

  In my past limited relationships, I always kept conversations going by talking about myself. From Annette’s point of view, our conversations should be a two-way street. She wanted us to talk about our feelings and what she explored in her weekly visits to a therapist.

  At the time, I couldn’t understand why this beautiful sensual woman was seeing a therapist. Now, of course, I’d never question such a decision.

  Arguments were dominating our relationship. Whenever she tried to debate me about something, I immediately went on the attack chastising her for not agreeing with me. My objective was always the same: To make her realize my correct thinking was superior to her flawed thoughts. In the middle of an argument, she’d stop to say my words were hurtful and were pushing her away from me. How could my words be hurting her when I was merely correcting her? As our arguments escalated, I found myself mentally exhausted.

  Our conversations always followed the same pattern. She would say something that didn’t sound logical to me. When I pointed out to her that what she said was wrong, she’d turn red and get very quiet. After a few minutes, she would calmly look at me and say, “Instead of attacking and trying to bully me, if something I say bothers or hurts you, tell me how it makes you feel.”

  “Annette, I’m not trying to hurt you. The point is your thinking is off. I’m just trying to help by showing you’re wrong.”

  On one occasion, we were locked in a long discussion about feelings; she tried to explain her background so I would understand her need to protect her own feelings.

  “You’re attacking the feelings I have,” she said slowly. “You have no right to do that. My feelings are important to me and that is why I express them to you. By doing that, I hope you would understand me.

  “I lived in New Zealand and here in California. I was brought up in a Christian home where there was constant conflict between my mother and me. When I turned twenty, I fell in love with a wonderful boy named John. I wanted to become pregnant so my mother couldn’t pull us apart. She hated him because his parents were poor; this made John feel he wasn’t good enough for me. She damned me for loving John; she wished he would forget me and move away.”

  There were tears in her eyes as she continued.

  “I lost my hope. John was killed in an automobile accident and I couldn’t stop crying. We’d planned to leave for Great Britain that summer and get married; he promised to take care of me for the rest of my life. I was so devastated by his death, I wasn’t sure I could go on.

  “Thankfully, my father understood my pain; he became my rescuer. He was a quiet man dominated by my mother. He liked John, always asking me about him; he was sad when John was killed.

  “After John’s death, my father confided in me he was going to leave my mother and move to Los Angeles. He asked me to go with him so we could start a new life away from her. I hugged him; he promised always to be there for me.

  “In order to understand me, you need to know about me. I see or hear things and react based upon those things from my past. By asking me how I feel, I’ll tell you explaining how the past affects my present. In this process, we could eventually grow closer.”

  Thinking about what Annette just said, made me realize that she was too sensitive a person for me. Instead of enjoying the beauty of our close physical bond and taking life easy, she’s making things more complicated. I came to the conclusion that our many differences were pulling us apart.

  The only positive that came out of these discussions was incredible sex. The only way I could stop her from going on about her feelings was to promise to be more sensitive. These were the magic words; when she heard them, she was very responsive to my physical advances.

  The last time we were together, Annette asked me to drive us to nearby Balboa Park for a walk. She then led me on a two-hour walk as she lectured me on life.

  “Jake, on some levels I have enjoyed being with you over these past two years, but you have also frustrated the hell out of me. It’s sad that our best and only loving bond was in the horizontal position, but I was just as guilty since I always gave in to your physical needs to keep the peace.

  “I’ve tried to move us closer, but we can’t. We both need to move on. I wanted this last chance to tell you a few things I hope you’ll think about as you live your life.”

  As she spoke, I really didn’t want to listen to her, I had heard all of this before. At that point, nothing she said would matter and she must have known I’d resist her thoughts; I always did. Nevertheless, she stayed the course and kept talking. All the while I was thinking that I wished she would hurry up and finish so I could begin the rest of my life.

  “You look at life as either right or wrong. In a relationship, you need to step away from being judgmental; accept the value of what someone has to say. In order to have a loving relationship, feelings need to be shared and understood by each other. What your partner thinks and feels should be of utmost importance to you, as yours should be to your partner. A person’s feelings cannot be right or wrong; they are real whether based on a truth, a falsehood, or on a misconception. When you attack my feelings, you are attacking me.

  “Jake, you don’t talk about your feelings with me. Unless you learn to do so, you’ll never achieve a deep relationship with anyone.

  “One last thing, I know you have a hard time dealing with your parents and tend to stay away from them. But, part of them is in you. In addition to giving you the genes determining who you are, you’ve watched them deal with life since your childhood; those impressions are imbedded in your subconscious. Without knowing it, they are an important part of the kind of person you are. Bottom line, if you reject your parents, you’re rejecting yourself. It is important to accept your parents for who they are, not to reject them. I learned this painful lesson with my own mother. I now understand who she is, accept who she is, and, most importantly, I no longer reject her.

  “When I travel back to New Zealand, I always see her. I comfort her when she complains; I share the positive things in my life. I leave there with a good feeling of who I am by how I interacted with her. Consider doing the same with your parents. You’ll find the good in them; then you will feel better about yourself.”

  When she was finally through, I walked Annette to the car and drove her home. As I pulled up to the curb, she told me not to get out, “I want to walk to my door alone.” After leaving my car, she took a few steps, stopped, turned to me; her look said, “Disappointment.” She walked away.

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  “Jake, was Annette anything more to you than good sex?”

  “I hope so, but I was constantly swimming upstream with her; I didn’t understand her and was constantly frustrated with her. I admit that if our physical relationship had not been good, we would not have lasted as long as we did.”

  Dr. Fox frowned with a sad shake of her head. “Annette tried to be honest with you about the need for better communication, but when she gave in to your physical needs, she became dishonest.

&nbs
p; “It is too bad that you resisted what she had to say to you; she was a smart lady.”

  “Yes, Dr. Fox,” I said solemnly, knowing I had yet again been exposed for my shortcomings. “Now, I know she was right. I wish I’d taped her last message to me. It could have been the primer for the rest of my life.

  “Dr. Fox, do you want to know something funny? Since breaking up with Annette, I’ve told a number of women not to attack my feelings. Annette would have enjoyed being there to know her lesson sunk in.

  “The truth is she was an incredible person; way too mature and advanced for the likes of me.”

  Dr. Fox smiled at my admission. “I’m still trying to figure out why she got involved with you. You obviously appealed to her prurient side. Yet, she is a caring person. The fact she took the time to give you a mini-lecture on life, tells me she wanted you to succeed. So, I am going to make an educated guess and say you still hear from her.”

  “You’re right. She calls me every year on my birthday. When I hear her voice, I get a big smile on my face and a chill runs down my spine recalling the first time I called her from my law office and heard her lovely voice.”

  Chapter 29

  1982

  In 1982, my career in law took an unexpected turn in an upward direction. I had just completed a court appearance at the old San Fernando Courthouse in the Valley when the judge asked me to approach the bench.

  His look was pleading for help; he needed a favor. “Counsel, do you have a couple of hours to help us out this morning? Our judge pro tem for small claims called in sick. If you are available, the court would appreciate it if you could fill in. If you can, please go across the hall and see Michelle, the clerk. She’ll give you the case files as well as a robe. There are four cases to hear.”

  A judge pro tem is a lawyer who fills in as a temporary judge when the courts are short-handed. These lawyers donate their time; hearing traffic and small claims cases. While performing this duty, the temporary judge is empowered to hear the case and to make an appropriate ruling.

  I immediately accepted the judge’s invitation and went to see Michelle who fitted me with a large robe and handed me the files. While sitting in chambers, I carefully studied the cases until I felt comfortable with the facts; whereupon I took the bench to hear the parties explain their claims.

  As a temporary judge, my role changed from an advocate who argued for one side, to an objective listener who would hear both sides of a case in an effort to find the truth and make a ruling.

  In a courtroom, parties present evidence to the court by asking questions of witnesses and offering documents for review. In this manner, the court evaluates evidence and then applies its findings of fact to the law in order to reach a decision. In my experience, lay people don’t fully understand this process.

  Though many of the evidentiary rules are relaxed in small claims cases, it is still an adversarial proceeding. By its very nature, an adversarial setting does not promote good feelings between the litigants nor does it have the effect of insuring payment once judgment is entered.

  I called the first case for trial. As the parties approached the table, they snapped at each other. My first act as the judge was to get everyone to calm down; the bailiff assisted me and order was restored. I admonished the parties about the proper courtroom protocol and they nodded their assent.

  The parties stood before me and my clerk instructed them to raise their right hands to take the oath. Once they swore to tell the truth, I nodded to the plaintiff so he could tell me his version of the facts. Suddenly, I stopped him.

  “Instead of having each of you present your case in an adversarial manner, let’s try a different approach,” I suggested. “Relax and have a seat. I’m going to give each of you a chance to tell me your side of the case, but be brief telling me only the most relevant facts. Before you start talking, ask yourself, does the judge need to know this information? Don’t bog me down with a long, irrelevant history, but instead, give me the most important information as it impacts either the plaintiff’s claim or the defense of the defendant. I’m giving you each a limit of five minutes to talk, no more. After you’ve presented your versions of the case, I’ll then suggest ways to resolve your dispute.”

  Both parties nodded in agreement, their body language changed. They seemed more relaxed as neither side interrupted the other while they spoke. When each side finished, I made several suggestions; promoting a productive discussion about the value of the plaintiff’s claim. But, the parties were still a few hundred dollars apart in reaching a settlement.

  I saw they trusted me and my system for negotiating a fair resolution of the case.

  “Gentlemen, let’s say you meet in the middle? That would settle your case and instead of entering a judgment against the defendant, I will note in the court file that a settlement has been reached. You’ll have two weeks to effectuate payment; then the case will be dismissed.”

  Both parties agreed and the matter was resolved; they shook hands and left the courtroom with a positive feeling about the process.

  After my first case was settled, I handled the other small claims cases in the same manner. When I was finished for the day, I was riding a great high. I thoroughly enjoyed resolving the disputes between the litigants.

  As I walked out of the courthouse, it immediately dawned on me what direction my legal career was meant to follow. For the remainder of my professional life, I wanted to be a “Mediator.”

  Chapter 30

  “Mr. Fixer has returned in a positive way. I like the way you handled the cases. During the process, you discovered a new purpose for your legal career and that’s a great revelation; one most people never experience. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Fox.”

  “Let’s switch gears. Do you feel like you work too hard? Feeling too stressed?

  “Yes.”

  “Jake, I want you to not only take the journey of life, but as the saying goes, I want you to ‘stop and smell the roses’ along the way. Since most of your time with me has been spent in that hard chair, I want you to move over to the couch; get comfortable and imagine the most serene place you have ever been.”

  I thought about it; racking my brain to think of such a place. The harder I thought, the more difficult it was to recall a serene memory.

  She watched me carefully as I wrestled with her request.

  “I see you’re fighting this, so let’s go back in time when you were younger. You told me you did very little with your parents, but you mentioned short summer vacation trips. Does anything memorable come to mind about those trips?”

  “Yes. We went to San Diego each summer staying at a motel near the beach.”

  “Was there a place or experience you enjoyed on these trips? Think of a place that made you feel at peace.”

  Finally, it came to me. “I remember a special beach near San Diego called Moonlight Beach; I loved to play on that beach and swim in the water.”

  “Good. Close your eyes and imagine yourself in the water. Think about how the water feels on your skin, how the waves push you up and down as they make their way to the shore. If you’ve ever floated on your back, think about how that felt. How do you feel now?”

  Dr. Fox’s voice was transformed from the probing inquisitor to a calming healer. Though contrary to what I was used to, her voice was so assuring in its new role; my body fell into a relaxed state.

  Moonlight Beach was a small cove protected by a bluff on both sides. The water was warm; the waves were just the right size for a little kid. As I sat in Dr. Fox’s office, I could feel myself in the water; experiencing the joy I felt when I was there. I was calm.

  Chapter 31

  1985

  Although he was financially secure and at an age when most people retired, Ed and I still worked together. By coming in each morning, Ed continued to hold onto a part of his law pr
actice, but spent less and less time in the office. For me, it was great having him around. He served as my “wise” mentor with his knowledge of the law and his instincts regarding people and situations. I knew the day would come when he’d officially retire and I’d lose a great support system. I was grateful to have Ed in my life.

  Any morning when I wasn’t in court, I’d get to my office early; around six. I waited until eight forty-five to brew the first pot of coffee to share with Ed. By nine, he would arrive and I would stop whatever I was doing, grab two cups of coffee, and go into his office. We’d talk about the news, my problem cases, or whatever else came up. For me, conversations with Ed could be about anything; I was just happy to have him in the office.

  Ed and I were the only attorneys in our building. The other tenants represented a variety of other businesses. It wasn’t unusual for one of them to stop by seeking our legal advice; some even retained me to do their legal work.

  One of the tenants was a venture capital company run by a man named Harold. Having never completed high school, he was a tough businessman who got his education through the “school of hard knocks.” At the age of eight, he got his first job selling newspapers; he fought the other kids for the right to sell on the best street corners in downtown Toronto. Harold eventually moved to Los Angeles and went to work for a pool company; he became the head of sales in their San Fernando Valley office. Through Harold’s hard work and sales skills, his company was responsible for building a large percentage of the pools in the Valley from 1965-1975.