Norm was welcomed into the family; indeed, his welcome had never worn thin, despite our dearth of information and surplus of astonishment to hear of the divorce. Time and conversation opened our lidded eyes. Finally, I accepted the fact that she was never going to write, that she would never see my real hair, that she was as gone for me as if blown from the surface of the earth. I accepted, also, that simplicity and love did not fulfill her needs and that supposedly shared goals, including frugality right down to the cheap brand of syrup, were a farce. I perceived Norm to be the ideal man, or the closest man thereto, and felt that Tracy would later regret her hateful actions as she had regretted other misguided words in her youth; she knew that Norm was a loner and possessed agoraphobic tendencies.... she knew he was willing to work hard for comparatively small rewards; he had no hidden vices or abusive characteristics... and though he was well built and strong, the similarity to his ancestral Vikings ended where their violence began. I realized that while the kettle on the home hearth boiled feverishly, her love was secure and untouchable, but when the fire was reduced to coals and the kettle could be taken from the hearth without scorching her hands, love was polluted by commonality. The need to search for her lost flame seized her mind, yet, because she knew not what she truly sought, her search would continue forever, leaving behind her an insubstantial and endless heap of charred ashes. I had vastly overemphasized my importance in Tracy's eyes. It was incredibly humbling to be rejected so completely; I thought of Norm and how much worse it must have been for him. Death and divorce were indeed similar, yet in some ways, the latter was more painful. Divorce, while lacking the ultimate permanence of death, is based on the heart-rending fact that one's love is no longer enough, and that he has been left by his mate's choice rather than nature's will and circumstances. Though her love for Norm had vanished with the disappearance of heart palpitations and romantic excitement, I thought I deserved at least a letter of farewell for all of the good times we had shared. I wondered if she had merely upheld a charade of good humor and enjoyment through our excursions; yet, I thought, she would not have invited me to share her free time if she resented my presence.