I’m not taking it off

When you’re married, sometimes you do foolish sit-com like things without realising it.

My wife and I are the same clothing size, roughly, which is luckier for her than for me.
She likes my shirts but I’m not a huge fan of wearing dresses and skirts.

Today though, because she took yet another shirt of mine, and I didn’t want to go downstairs to our room, I decided ‘huh, I’m going to wear one of her t-shirts.’

Yes I was lazy on principle.

Her shirt is comfortable but it looks better on her and I hate the sleeves.

But because I’m stubborn, I’m not taking it off. Dammit.

Two weirdos in the park or…my wife takes me for a walk

I got my vitamin D and a little sun burn on my pale irish skin today from a hobble in the park across the street. Yay!!

She brought me a hat, a sweet brown fedora lookin thing, my shades and we hit the trail and the speed of  crawl

I never remember what we chat about on our walks but it usually involves some hilarity, a trip or occasional fall with some more laughing to follow.

Today for some reason, in the middle of an empty field, we decided to pull up my shirt to see how my surgery scars are healing, they’re nowhere near boob zone and I still don’t know why we decided that was a good time and place,

I think its because we forget other people most of the time and are just generally used to be stared at when we’re together.

I think we also scared some kids and parents on the play structure several hundred feet away because in poking a finger at one scar, we realised a suture was missed and clumsily, my wife poked at it, causing it to come out and fall on the waistband of my shorts.

We both screamed a little like two ladies who saw a tarantula with an AK-47.

It  didn’t hurt. I think it mostly it was the shock that it popped out that gave us a start.

Then I snuggled a giant oak tree and admired some shoots newly poking their heads out of the ground, aaah lovely.

“You stepped in some dog shit with your boot,” said B

“Noooo I didn’t,” I replied, “I would’ve seen it.”

So because I didn’t see it, to me it didn’t happen.

Well, I’m definitely smelling something a little dog shit-esque in the living room right now.

Yep. Pretty sure it’s me….*groan*

Happy spring dear readers!

Zen & The Art of Loving Your Spouse

Health is the greatest gift, contentment the greatest wealth, faithfulness the best relationship. -Buddha
 
Marriage is not easy and it’s not supposed to be. That doesn’t mean it’s drudgery either, it definitely isn’t in my experience.
 
I’m not intending to make great proclamations with this post, these are merely the observations of one person who has promised love, honour and loyalty to another person.
 
We’re closing in on our two year anniversary and our lives together get more interesting and exciting.
It’s also brought up many challenges.
 
Without violating my wife’s right to privacy too much, she has a chronic illness which takes its toll on her and sometimes me.
 
It is difficult trying to be the healer and the one in need of healing.  Sometimes it makes me angry that some things can’t just take a back seat until I am well enough to carry everything on my shoulders again. But that’s not the way life works.
 
My problems are not as debilitating as hers are, at least right now, she’s been in the throws of her relapse for over a year and we’re beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel. As I am getting stronger, so is she.
 
It’s a real blessing.
 
I cannot say I have been the best care giver to her all the time. I’ve been angry, resentful, short tempered, occasionally non supportive and hurtful. None of these are intentional of course but the damage remains the same.
 
What I’ve found is that it’s vital, if not mandatory, that as a caregiver, you take care of yourself.
With my wife’s love and support, I went out with friends, joined a support group and pursued my own interests. It was just what I needed.
 
It gives me the energy to return to her and hold her when she has a bad night and talk her through the worst of it.
 
When we have a rough patch, and there’s been a number of them over the past year, I always remind myself to tell her:
 
“My worst day with you sweetheart is still better than my best day single.”
 
Loving yourself gives you strength, loving someone else gives you courage.
 
 
 
 
 

Compassion and Betrayal

“Compassion will cure more sins than condemnation.” – Henry Ward Beecher

I got an email today from someone I once loved dearly, admired and respected and I’m having a hard time.

The ‘once’ is in there because this person whom I shall call DU, hurt someone else I love dearly who will be called LM.

At first, we thought illness and disability was the reason for the implosion of the relationship and since it is between them and there are two sides to every story, I continued to love and support them equally, as best I could. They were both like family to me.

LM had cared for me when I was a child, had loved me and lived with my immediate family for a number of years before meeting DU. When DU was welcomed into the circle of friends and family, we felt a sense of completion, love and delight, it was a perfect match.

Then a shocking revelation emerged, slowly, over time, through other friends and family members.

DU had been committing grievous betrayals that became evident once enough time and distance was placed between them. This news divided dear family and friends who were once people I enjoyed seeing at family gatherings. They became silent strangers over night.

I witnessed the initial betrayal increase exponentially and split apart several families, children and loved ones.

I am still very hurt.

I was one of many people who talked LM through tears, grief and anguish, watched how LM was affected, financially, emotionally, left to an empty house of memories they built together for decades…all gone in a phone call.

It’s been several years since the initial bomb dropped and the fall out is only now contained, barely. LM is still scarred and reeling and will probably never, fully heal.

Now this email, probably written during a chilly and lonely night, arrives in my inbox from DU, after almost a year since we spoke, asking where we stand.

I cannot. My loyalty is to LM and while I still feel compassion for DU, we can no longer be in each other’s lives. It makes me sad but I wasn’t the one who pulled the plug on our family circle.

Sadness is all I feel.