Tag Archives: Husband

The Story Of Us

30 May

 

It was a snowy April night, 2004. With her Mother at a Jack & Jill at a neighbors farm, she saw him. Having been ready to leave she was now compelled to stay, who was he? Quietly watching from across the room, summoning the courage to talk tom him, she was about to approach when she suddenly realized he was no longer in view. Scanning the room, it became clear that he had left. Disappointed, she agreed with her mother that it was time to leave. Then, as if by her very will there he was, chatting with people on the other side of the room. He appeared to be turning down dance partners, some young, and some clearly the mothers of his friends, smiling politely each time he’d shake his head and they’d move on. She wasn’t going to miss her chance, this time there was no summoning of courage she walked straight across the room. “I see you’re saying no to everyone that’s asking you to dance.” She noted, convincing herself she was this confident and forward person, “Will you dance with me?” He smiled, they danced. They spun and spun until the room continued to spin though they had stopped dancing. The night came to a close, and she headed home with her mother. The next morning she awoke excited with this new possibility, eager to explore what this new person might bring to her life. After some ‘research’ she learned his name and phone number, “Hi, I don’t know if you remember me, we met last night.”

After some months of spending nearly every day together they parted ways. She cried, but knew that this was not the right time for what she felt. They saw other people, always just slightly in touch with one another. In good times and in bad she thought of him, wondered where he was, if he was happy. The relationship she was in had not been what she was seeking, in her heart the knowledge that the one she met that April night was the one, pulled at her. On one particularly sad day, the tears blurred her vision and she needed someone. Someone to drive her home, someone to ease her broken heart. On that day the number she dialed was not the one of her current ‘someone’, but his. He answered and his voice brought some peace, then it was clear that the one who should be her someone was on the other end of the line. That was the end of the relationship she was in, now in the world a free agent, she waited.

Not so snowy, but April again a year later. Walking across a crowded bar she felt a poke and looked down. Standing there, a step below the platform she was on, was the one she had been waiting for. Without even thinking she fell into his arms, the remainder of the evening spent as close to him as she could get. This time she knew that this was the time for what she felt, she was ready for what he could bring to her life.

Some months passed. One sunny afternoon as they said goodbye in her mothers driveway she asked, “Should I cut and paste some pictures of rings that I like for you?” He smiled, “Yeah”. Together they looked and found the perfect one. July 2005, at dinner on a weekend away she asked for the dessert menu. When the waitress returned, she was carrying a platter with a little box in the center. As she processed what that might mean she looked down to find him on his knee at her side, “Will you be my wife?” Tears filled her eyes, her hands shook, “Yes!” She was reminded that they were in a crowded restaurant by the applause that filled the room around them.

Little more than a year went by and she was standing at the back of the church, clutching her Grandfather’s arm. As she watched the flower girls and ring bearer make their way down the aisle she began to shiver. “I’m scared” her feet froze, pulling gently on her arm, her Grandpa brought her down the aisle. Tears streaming down her face she was surprised by the emotion that overtook her. There he stood, just as he had that snowy April night, smiling and his presence alone putting at ease any fear she had felt.

Time went by, doing what it does. They drifted apart and came together as couples sometimes do. In the midst of one of their drifted periods he came home from work to find her crying. She gave no explanation, shutting the door to his attempt at understanding her tears. Wanting to tell him but not knowing how she searched online. On a page, on the table, she had printed off he came home to find a section circled. “At five weeks the heart beats for the first time” He looked at her, question and amazement on his face. She smiled with tears in her eyes and nodded, they were together again, now more than ever before.

Thirty-six weeks later the doctor handed him a tiny, perfect boy. His boy, this was a new love. A love they shared with each other and for this new and most important person in their lives. The baby boy grew and changed and they learned. About him, about themselves, and about each other. Her love for him grew. More than the night he put a ring on her finger, more than the day she said I do, her love for him and for what they had created together multiplied.

Soon she knew there was something else. Something pulling at her, she yearned for something, though she didn’t yet know what. Twenty-three months and two weeks after that tiny boy was laid in his arms, a precious girl was brought to him. When the nurse brought her into the recovery room and she beheld her new family for the first time she was sure that this was what she had been seeking. All was as it should be and there was nothing more to search for.

Time went by, doing what it does. They no longer drifted apart.

There were times when she would sit and think. A smile would come across her face as she realized how blessed she was. She had him, the one for her. And as days and weeks passed by she learned more and more that he was exactly what she needed, more than she knew she wanted. She had known of his kind heart and generous nature. Of his quick wit and dry humor. She learned how tender his heart was when his babies had tears in their eyes, and she saw his heart break for them. How patient his temperament was at trying times, when he hugged her to calm her frenzied state. How considerate he was when, after a long and hot days work, he searched their yard for an escaped pet turtle. How thoughtful he was when he told her to go and see her friends and not worry about the time. How playful he was as he rolled on the floor with the kids and their dog, laughing and playing until it was the children who were tired. How affectionate he was as he snuggled his babies to sleep. How strong he was as his world suffered unexpected losses and breaks.

She saw all of this. She saw him. She learned that on the day they exchanged their vows her love for him was just beginning. That years after she had pledged her heart to him she would find herself wanting to give it to him all over again. Finding new reasons to love him more all the time. With him she had a family she loved more than words could express. There was no more seeking, no yearning after what the world might hold. All that she needed and wanted was with him and the story they were writing together.

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My Big Plan – Extra

27 Nov

I’m not sure if this would really count as a part of the plan but it might. Getting rid of stuff that’s floating around in my head annoying me is probably helpful on my journey to self improvement. I have something to get off my chest. There is a person frolicking about in my world. A person who may refer to themselves as a close and long time friend to my husband. I am not going to name this person. I am writing this in the hopes of gaining the satisfaction which comes from addressing your attacker. A satisfaction I do not expect to gain in real life by speaking to this person as I am confident that even if they did admit to their wrong doings they would make them my fault. There are people who will recognize this person from my accounts of some events, please respect my choice to not name names and keep it to yourself or comment to me privately. Thank you.
The following is a selection of incidents perpetuated by the above mentioned frolicker. From this point on I will be writing as if I am speaking to them, because thats easier.
(1) Calling me a whore and telling me I forced my husband into depression and ‘ruined’ him. Then in response to a request for an apology from me stated that (2) you meant what you said and would not take it back. Later (3) insinuating that my son should be circumcised by uttering “a boy should look like his father” and (4) stating that my desire to send my children to a Catholic school is stupid and doesn’t make any sense. When Scott asked you about 3 & 4 you (5) denied the occurrence and blatantly lied stating that (6) I behaved completely differently than I would have had Scott been present, telling him that I attacked you. And finally when asked to take responsibility for items 1 & 2 claimed (7) to not recall them at all.
When I think about one and two I wonder how you can truly consider yourself a friend to my husband when you are so openly disrespectful of his choices. We are married because we love each other and you being so unkind to me shows a great lack of consideration for the feelings of your friend.
In regards to number three I think my sons penis is absolutely none of your concern.
As far as number four is concerned what school my children attend has no bearing on your life whatsoever and I fail to see what you hope to accomplish is saying anything about it at all. Except perhaps to be mean or get a reaction.
Number five? There were others present who recall precisely what you said.
And six how dare you lie to your friend, and about his wife. He knows me and knows what I would and would not do. To expect him to believe your falsified account of the incident could suggest that you have little faith in his intelligence.
Seven, I find it difficult to believe that you cannot recall. Especially being that Scott talked to you about it later and you apologized to him for treating me that way.
To me it appears that accepting responsibility for your actions is not a great strength for you. Lying to your friends seems to be your defense of choice. My husband has maintained a hope that you would recognize the error in your ways and come around. I hope that he is right, and I believe the first step to being the person he hopes you to be would be admitting your mistakes and attempting to make it right with those you have wronged. I wish you luck in this.

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