Dear Wife,
I feel the winds of autumn sneak beneath the door, and I know it’s time to leave. But I don’t want to go.
Watching our daughter cavort in the mud the other day, my tusks started to ache – I was smiling so hard! Nearby, you chased our son as he rampaged through the park, terrifying squirrels with his trumpeting. In that moment, I realized that I had found the perfect home. And I had a desperate urge to never relinquish this domestic dream.
How many summers must we play this game, before we decide to evolve? Once, maybe, we needed to keep males separate, safely outside the herd. Montreal, however, has none of the Ghats’ wildness, nor the agricultural roughness of Saint-Hyacinthe. Even rogues in this city behave with civility. Why then can we not make this work?
Look, I understand the reasoning. At our best, we males act like bulls and throw our considerable weight around. We strain against the guidance of our matriarchs, and trumpet at passing females. And when the musth overtakes us, we grow violent, unpredictable, unfit for the company of children and mothers. I’d like to think you could help me overcome those faults.
I know I’m not an alpha anymore. Heck, both of us have more sag and wrinkles than we used to. I have no need to chase younger flesh, nor bellow in defense of my turf. Lately, I spend the winters reminiscing with my fellow males, not battling for supremacy. And if you still need a strong, young male, I feel that I could meekly stand aside. Just let me remain near.
Our son turns six soon, while our daughter just passed her first year. Even if I must skulk along the fringe, I will continue to watch them grow. When the lions stare hungrily at our dear ones, I will rumble and stomp till they look away. Dads ought to do that, you see. And until our children reach adulthood and choose their own herds, I intend to remain part of this one.
Forget the old wisdom. In the city, we pachyderms have the chance to write new norms and ways of living. I say, real elephants never split. They stay true, trunks curled around the ones that matter most. So whether you wish me to keep my distance, or allow me to share your shade, I will endure. And our children will see their father does not stray.
I love you,
Your Husband