I M Perfect lady

Tag: husband

  • And Me

    Today my husband and I leave for a few days, just him and I and the 1983 Chevy truck. 

     

    While it may not seem like a big thing, what kind of car you drive, we do however have a few vehicles that bring out the date in you, and the Big Blue Truck is one.

     

    It doesn’t see the open road much, it rarely has plates on it and surely not insurance.  It is used mainly for plowing snow and is kept in the barn on hay…well actually beach sand, but I kid him.

     

    He bought it brand new in 1982, the fall he and I began dating.  He has had it painted, a new engine, running boards and running lights, chrome wheels, loud mufflers etc.  It is a well-loved truck…a truck of young boys dream.

     

    Before taking it out on the open road, he had a few things to fix, rear breaks, led to new break lines, led to wheel bearings, and to things called spider gears (well we may let that go and pray for the best), but he won’t back out of our driveway until he is assured it is good running shape….  I have no idea what these things look like, but his concern for the truck equals his care for the things he loves.

     

    Overall, it is his care that has kept the truck going, our love going, our family going.  He is a man who pays attention to the details.  He catches things before they are way far-gone, he hears little sounds the truck makes telling him which part needs his attention, just as he notices when any of us are just a hair off. 

     

    If he had his way, we would all be kept on hay in a barn, safe, sound and out of harms way…only to be taken out for joy rides.

     

    I am so thrilled to be going on a joy ride with a man who loves, who cares and who shows it.

     

    He has taught me how to care, how to love…we have traveled far and are very lucky that we can dip back into our earlier years and enjoy dating. 

     

    Today is his birthday…and he will be like a young kid again driving along in his big blue truck…28 years since he bought it he still loving it, and me! 

     

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    My husband just came back from the parts store, the part we were waiting on did not come in.  He was able to get a part for my Mail Jeep…a wheel bearing that too has been making noises.  So, we will continue on…leaving the Chevy for dates near home. 

    This is our first time taking the Jeep on vacation…it will be a good cool ride. Air.

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  • Our time together

    Twenty-seven years ago today, my husband and I began dating.  We had talked to each other almost daily on the phone for 6 months, before we went on a date.

     

    We began talking, sharing and enjoying each other’s differences. In some things we have gotten more alike and in others more different, and through it all maintain our sense of separateness as well as togetherness.

     

    The phrase, “you complete me” doesn’t apply to us, for we are each standing strong alone.  He is not a man who is lacking something that I need to carry, nor does he have a part of me.

     

    In the beginning I was much more lost then him, and I served him always before myself. 

     

    The past five years has been about recovering me, about finding a sense of self that I never had before.

     

    I had told him often in the first years of my recovery that he would be getting a new lady but with the same lady if that makes sense to you.

     

    He didn’t have to leave his marriage, but he is now with a totally different lady.

     

    It took him a while and he grieved for the Me he first fell in love with, but over time and with patience and courage, we both fell in love with the new me.

     

    Our relationship is special and neither of us takes it for granted.

     

    A love that allowed me to be me, a love that flourishes in the good times and in the bad, one that can withstand the changes of life no matter how they appear.

     

    When I think back to the early days of discovering who my father was, to see his picture in the papers, on the radio and on TV, my husband never once considered me too soiled to be with.  He never once dropped my hand.

     

    He never once considered leaving me behind.

     

    I held his hand while I had to do the bulk of the work inside.

    His hand gave me the strength I needed to walk alone.

    Like a good set of training wheels!

     

    As I look back on our journey together, it is one that has allowed us to become more of our selves. 

     

    Neither of us is lost in the relationship, instead we bring our full selves to the relationship called Us.

     

    We are complete alone, but enjoy our time together.

     

  • Beauty

    The Island of Misfit Toys was the place in Rudy the Red Nosed Reindeer story. The place toys went that had been created wrong.  I can’t recall each misfit, but their action didn’t do as the fit ones did.

    Yet on the Island, if you had a problem you fit right in, perfect.

    Hey, you could have called it the Island of Imperfection.

    The natives on the island expected, loved, understood, you, and your quirky nature.

    It is unclear in my mind why this Island appears in the story…but I know we are taken there and shown around.

    Maybe it was to show we all belong somewhere.  I felt sad for those left on the island of misfit toys, like no way could then fit in on the Island of Normal. 

    How this appeared to me today, was that I was thinking of how my husband has the knack for fixing things that are broken, missing a part, in long neglect disrepair, a car or lawnmower that most would put in the junk yard, my husband takes home.

    He has the patience of a saint, can see the potential and works little by little to bring it back into its original state.  We have seen many transformations that his hands have made.  And we have seen him milk along vehicles that truly are tired, worn down and ready to rest.

    Just when you think, he can’t possible make it run again, he does.

    We are forever sentenced to a life with a car for he won’t let it go, until he is certain it has lived its full life.

    I know this may sound beautiful, but try riding around in a car that has more overused parts than new.  We have cars where, you have to remember to not put down the window…..that is right.  Don’t push the power button, or when you do, the window will fall quickly down into the door and disappear and it will take him many hours to get it back up.  So you have a window that goes down, but not up.  You don’t know how instinctual it is to just hit the button, mindlessly.

    We once had one of these kinds of cars stolen, yes stolen.  The most expensive part on the car, was the full tank of Gas, oh and my stamps on the visor.  We cheered and laughed and were so gleeful, it is gone, but lo and behold by the end of the day, it was back in our yard.  It was found just a few miles away, undamaged, or so we think.  We couldn’t really tell what damage was new, for who remembered all it’s bumps and bruises.

    You almost feel sad that one so damaged has so much damage that you can’t even see the new bruise.  And does the car get used to being so precariously balanced, or does it too feel….I will move today if I can and if not I will just stop.  It is not up to me.

    Does the car remember being young, shining, new all things working, where it could breeze along the road happily!  Does it remember no dents and dings no overused parts?  Does it wish to go backwards, does it dream of a fixer-upper man?  Does it wait to die in the junkyard? Is there a heaven for cars?  Just so you know my husband shops in the junkyards, seeking that one part that still is good.

    Now as I look back at my life, I can see why I married this man.

    I was the perfect wife for him.

     

    One man’s junk is another man’s treasure.

    They say we marry the person who can heal your childhood wounds I for one know that is true.  He brought out in me the things that needed correcting.  You may recognize the ‘buttons’ that we seem to be able to push in each other, those are buttons of dysfunction.

    A place where we have lost our power, a place where we have a wrong connection, a button that doesn’t do what it is supposed to do.

    For some of us, we have been broken for sooo long we don’t even know what the normal function looks like, feels like or would recognize it.  Our normal is dysfunction.  We have lived so long on the Island of Misfits, that that is normal.

    It isn’t until you leave the island that you look down and see. See the damage, the brokenness, uselessness abounds.  And is it possible for one misfit to fix another misfit, or do we need a fixer man.

    But always remember, “One Man’s Junk, Is Another Man’s Treasure”

    I should know. 

    I have been both.

    Beauty truly is in the eye of the beholder.

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