I've written before about people I've lost. I will do that again here (one specifically), but I also want to write about people I've gained.
My father-in-law was a wonderful man. He was kind, sweet, smart, caring, generous, and loved life. My oldest boy, Z, would always make him laugh. All of his grandkids did, but this blog is from my perspective, so please pardon me if I don't mention the other grandchildren more. He called him "Sport" and would always tease me and J about the "fits" that kid was giving us, and would continue to give us in the future. He loved hearing the new things Z had done, learned, said, in a way that only grandparents can. Z was only 18 months old when he lost his grandfather. How we lost him is another blog, but suffice it to say it was a freak accident. A sudden loss. An unexpected hole blasted in our hearts.
But our family has grown since then.
My husband and I have given him another grandson, M. Wow, my father-in-law (and us) only THOUGHT Z was a handful! Whew!!! M exhausts me just watching him. He is so full of energy, and mischief. I never know what he's going to say. Or do. I have not yet figured out how his mind works, and frankly, I don't think I want to know. He makes me laugh daily. And shake my head in disbelief. And rant and rave. And pray for patience. And blame my husband for all of his bad traits (even though he clearly got them from my side of the family. Shhhhh! Don't tell J that I admitted that.) He is a charmer, though. He can smile and you have to smile with him. He laughs and you have to laugh with him. He brings joy (and frustration, lol) everywhere he goes. His Papaw would have LOVED him. I don't mean just with his heart, but with sense of humor, with his mind, and with his heart.
M would have had Papaw wrapped around his little finger, too. I have no doubt about that whatsoever. M would have pulled one of his stunts that make me want to strangle him and Papaw would have laughed, shaken his head, and said (as he did so many times with Z), "He's all boy, isn't he. It's terrible to spank a kid just 'cause he feels good." So, of course, I couldn't have spanked him then. No matter how much he needed it. Yes, M would've loved Papaw just as much as Papaw would've loved him.
My husband also gave his dad a granddaughter. We found out about her just a couple of years ago (another long story), but she is a joy. Her mother is from a previous marriage, and H just turned 13. Only 13. And she's 5 inches taller than I am. *sigh* Yes, I'm vertically challenged, but that's beside the point. H is pretty awesome. She got all of her dad's best traits. She's sweet, funny, smart, easy-going, and caring. Her Papaw B (she calls her other grandfather Papaw) would have loved her, too. See, she's just like he was. H takes after her dad, and her dad takes after his dad. Seriously, it's like they were cloned. Well, except she's a little goofier (actually more than "a little"), and she's a girl. This family is pretty amazing.
And H would've loved her Papaw B. He would've spoiled her just as much as her other Papaw. He would've given her the moon if she'd asked for it. She'd have wrapped him around her little finger, too. Just like she has her dad. But I have to say, she doesn't over-step. She doesn't push the limits. She's just so quietly sweet, that people want to give her things just to see her smile. She doesn't manipulate like so many kids do (including my boys that know exactly how to get what they want out of Mamaw B.) She's just H.
My husband's brother, K, has also gotten married, gained two step-daughters, and had a little girl of his own. My father-in-law would really have loved to see that. K had some problems that slowed down his family creating abilities (a third long story, and not mine to tell), but everything seems back on track for him. As much as I know my father-in-law would have loved to see the family that J and I have gained, I know in my heart that K's life now would have brought him more happiness and peace than any of you can possibly imagine.
So we lost one. And we've gained six. But each of those six lost one they never knew. And that was a treasure of which they can never know the value.
I do like to think of my father-in-law looking down from Heaven and smiling. Happy at what he left behind. Proud of how we've grown. Laughing at our children and how they make us pull our hair out. Yes, I can see him laughing at us all. And that makes me smile through all of the tears.
Showing posts with label J. Show all posts
Showing posts with label J. Show all posts
Monday, August 6, 2012
Saturday, November 19, 2011
As A Wife . . . Giving Thanks
This is going to be combination post. You see, this is not only Thanksgiving week, but today is my Anniversary. My husband and I were married 11 years ago today, November 22nd. 11 Years. Wow. And I want to tell you how that came about.
My husband and I met when we were kids. Well, I was a kid. He was this weird teenage boy in the background that his sister and I ignored. Boys? YUCK!
Fast forward ten years. We meet again. He's CUTE! Tall, dark, handsome, with a little bit of bad-boy, and a whole lot of charm. I fell in love. Hard. Fast. Permanently.
We dated off and on for over ten years. When we weren't dating, we were friends. Best friends. And, yes, now that we're married all of those secrets we shared as friends can sometimes be Too Much Information. Lol. But, in a way, that same sharing in friendship is the ONLY reason we're married. And that is the story behind the story.
We've both been in other relationships, of course. But in those ten years of off-an-on some of those other people weren't just "Other People." They were Bad People. Some times bad for us, sometimes just bad period. In my case, they were both. See, I'm not the best judge of character when it comes to men. A couple of them (okay, most of them) were mean to me. Not physically, because that I could have walked away from. No, they were emotionally and mentally abusive. Those types are more insidious. They sneak up on you. At first, you say, "He's just having a bad day." Then, you start to believe him sometimes when he says, "It's your fault that I'm mad." Then, you believe you just don't deserve anything better. Then, you don't believe you deserve anything at all.
If you're lucky, you get out. I was lucky.
Then, I hit the jackpot. The Million Dollar, Once In A Lifetime, Jackpot. My husband asked me out. We dated. He fell in love with me again. I had never fallen OUT of love with him. I had just repressed it to get on with my life. When he asked me to marry him, I said "YES" and rushed him to the alter before he could change his mind.
But, there were still problems. My problems that became his problems. Those past relationships, the ones I mentioned above, well, they left scars. Not healed little white scars you have to look for to find. In fact, they weren't really even scars. They were more like gaping, bloody, infected wounds that I had covered with band-aids and hoped would go away. They didn't.
J. got to play doctor (and not the fun kind of "doctor" game girls and boys play). He got to deal with all of those trust issues, and incompetency feelings, and depressive withdrawal from him. Our first -- and worst -- fight was over Christmas lights. Seriously, it was over Christmas lights. He asked me what kind I wanted to buy for the house. Icicle lights or colored lights or just plain white string lights? I said I didn't care. HE said (and I can still remember it to this day), "I asked you. When I ask for your opinion on something I. Want. Your. Opinion. I do NOT want to hear 'I don't care.' Do you understand me." And, no, that last was NOT a question. All of this was said in a tone of voice barely above a whisper, so no one else in Wally World heard him. And that made it even more . . . impressive.
And that friendship I told you helped? Well, see, I had watched him go through other relationships, also. Not only did I know what HE had been through, I had seen how he reacted to THEIR behavior. I KNEW I could trust him. Not an I-know-in-my-heart-I-can-trust-him type of trust. I knew because I had SEEN him go through the worst and I had SEEN how he reacted. I had proof. I trusted because he had already proved I could trust him.
He saved me. He saved me from myself. He saved me from my past. He saved me from my wounds. I had loved him for years, I love him now, and I will love him forever. He is my savior, my heart, my soul-mate, and my world. Unless you have that, you can't understand that kind of love.
It's an old-fashioned, all-the-way-to-the-bone love. If (God Forbid!) I lost him tomorrow, a very large part of me would die. I know that. When I even think about things like that, I feel part of my heart and part of my soul shrink backward in fear. This is the fairy tale love that I believed in as a little girl and scoffed at as an young adult. Real Love Does Exist. I found it.
He's not perfect. He snores. He gets cranky. He snores. He misunderstands me sometimes. He snores. He drives like an old man sometimes -- sloooooowly. And, did I mention he snores? He's not perfect. But he is Perfect For Me.
He is a wonderful husband. He's an unbelievably good father. He helps me clean house. He vacuums and mops because it hurts my back. He works long hours to make enough money to take care of me and the kids. He is patient. He is kind. He has a great sense of humor. He is a gentleman.
I don't deserve him. I never have, and I never will. I treat him badly sometimes. But he makes me strive to be better, to be more deserving of him.
He is Mine. And I give Thanks to God Every Day for my husband.
I Love You, J. More than you know, more than you can imagine, and more than I ever thought I was capable of. Happy Anniversary, Honey. Eleven years......and hopefully, another fifty or sixty.
My husband and I met when we were kids. Well, I was a kid. He was this weird teenage boy in the background that his sister and I ignored. Boys? YUCK!
Fast forward ten years. We meet again. He's CUTE! Tall, dark, handsome, with a little bit of bad-boy, and a whole lot of charm. I fell in love. Hard. Fast. Permanently.
We dated off and on for over ten years. When we weren't dating, we were friends. Best friends. And, yes, now that we're married all of those secrets we shared as friends can sometimes be Too Much Information. Lol. But, in a way, that same sharing in friendship is the ONLY reason we're married. And that is the story behind the story.
We've both been in other relationships, of course. But in those ten years of off-an-on some of those other people weren't just "Other People." They were Bad People. Some times bad for us, sometimes just bad period. In my case, they were both. See, I'm not the best judge of character when it comes to men. A couple of them (okay, most of them) were mean to me. Not physically, because that I could have walked away from. No, they were emotionally and mentally abusive. Those types are more insidious. They sneak up on you. At first, you say, "He's just having a bad day." Then, you start to believe him sometimes when he says, "It's your fault that I'm mad." Then, you believe you just don't deserve anything better. Then, you don't believe you deserve anything at all.
If you're lucky, you get out. I was lucky.
Then, I hit the jackpot. The Million Dollar, Once In A Lifetime, Jackpot. My husband asked me out. We dated. He fell in love with me again. I had never fallen OUT of love with him. I had just repressed it to get on with my life. When he asked me to marry him, I said "YES" and rushed him to the alter before he could change his mind.
But, there were still problems. My problems that became his problems. Those past relationships, the ones I mentioned above, well, they left scars. Not healed little white scars you have to look for to find. In fact, they weren't really even scars. They were more like gaping, bloody, infected wounds that I had covered with band-aids and hoped would go away. They didn't.
J. got to play doctor (and not the fun kind of "doctor" game girls and boys play). He got to deal with all of those trust issues, and incompetency feelings, and depressive withdrawal from him. Our first -- and worst -- fight was over Christmas lights. Seriously, it was over Christmas lights. He asked me what kind I wanted to buy for the house. Icicle lights or colored lights or just plain white string lights? I said I didn't care. HE said (and I can still remember it to this day), "I asked you. When I ask for your opinion on something I. Want. Your. Opinion. I do NOT want to hear 'I don't care.' Do you understand me." And, no, that last was NOT a question. All of this was said in a tone of voice barely above a whisper, so no one else in Wally World heard him. And that made it even more . . . impressive.
And that friendship I told you helped? Well, see, I had watched him go through other relationships, also. Not only did I know what HE had been through, I had seen how he reacted to THEIR behavior. I KNEW I could trust him. Not an I-know-in-my-heart-I-can-trust-him type of trust. I knew because I had SEEN him go through the worst and I had SEEN how he reacted. I had proof. I trusted because he had already proved I could trust him.
He saved me. He saved me from myself. He saved me from my past. He saved me from my wounds. I had loved him for years, I love him now, and I will love him forever. He is my savior, my heart, my soul-mate, and my world. Unless you have that, you can't understand that kind of love.
It's an old-fashioned, all-the-way-to-the-bone love. If (God Forbid!) I lost him tomorrow, a very large part of me would die. I know that. When I even think about things like that, I feel part of my heart and part of my soul shrink backward in fear. This is the fairy tale love that I believed in as a little girl and scoffed at as an young adult. Real Love Does Exist. I found it.
He's not perfect. He snores. He gets cranky. He snores. He misunderstands me sometimes. He snores. He drives like an old man sometimes -- sloooooowly. And, did I mention he snores? He's not perfect. But he is Perfect For Me.
He is a wonderful husband. He's an unbelievably good father. He helps me clean house. He vacuums and mops because it hurts my back. He works long hours to make enough money to take care of me and the kids. He is patient. He is kind. He has a great sense of humor. He is a gentleman.
I don't deserve him. I never have, and I never will. I treat him badly sometimes. But he makes me strive to be better, to be more deserving of him.
He is Mine. And I give Thanks to God Every Day for my husband.
I Love You, J. More than you know, more than you can imagine, and more than I ever thought I was capable of. Happy Anniversary, Honey. Eleven years......and hopefully, another fifty or sixty.
Monday, August 29, 2011
Love & Romance: A Suggestion for Men
My husband wrote me a love letter. He does that from time to time. It's good that he doesn't too often, because it would not mean as much. Usually, he is a man of few words. Serious words anyway. He's great at small talk, and he's a wonderful listener, but expressing his feelings isn't something he is apt to do very often.
It was a sweet letter. I won't tell you the details because they are private. But he made me cry. Good tears. The kind only women really understand. The ones that stem from an overflow of love from the heart. The ones that would say (if men could understand), "You have no idea how deeply you just touched me." The ones that acknowledge that you just let us deep down inside you in that place you keep secret, and thank you for that gift.
Men should do this every so often to their lady love. It doesn't have to be long, just heartfelt. It doesn't have to be perfect, just perfectly yours. Write letters to your wives, your girlfriends, your children -- daughters AND sons. You never know when today might be your last day. Give them words in print to let them know how much they mean to you. On dark nights, those words will comfort. When you have a fight (and you will) those letters will help ease the pain.
I had my husband write letters to our children for when they are grown. Just in case we aren't here then. They will have our hearts printed on paper. They will have words to remind them of our love, our pride in them, our hopes for their future, our belief in them.
J. made me fall in love with him all over again. Not that it is hard to do, but we both get so busy with Life, that sometimes we forget to remind the other just how special they are to us. This reminder I can keep in my keepsake box (every girl has one, even if it's just a shoebox). I can pull it out when he is traveling for business, or when we have a fight, and remember just what it is that I love about him and be reminded that he loves me, too.
It's easy to forget that. Well, not so much forget as we need reassurance. Women are very vulnerable creatures (or at least I am), and we need that reassurance. We need to know that you still find us attractive (stretchmarks, extra pounds, and all); that you love us as much today as the day you married us; that you have no regrets; that you still want to be a part of our lives and have us a part of yours.
We aren't as tough as we would have you believe, or even as tough as we would like to believe. Our hearts are still fragile. We still need to be romanced. We still need your attention. We still need You.
So, when you have a few moments free, sit down and tell your lady love how you feel. It's a little thing to do, but it will mean more than you can possibly know. Be honest and open. Write from the heart. She will appreciate it, and love you even more. Don't be scared off by the tears you may cause. They really are good tears. And I'm sure, after she has wiped her eyes, she'll tell you just how much you mean to her.
J. is my best friend and my lover. He is my companion and my partner. He is my husband and he means more to me than anyone else on earth other than our children.
I love him, too.
It was a sweet letter. I won't tell you the details because they are private. But he made me cry. Good tears. The kind only women really understand. The ones that stem from an overflow of love from the heart. The ones that would say (if men could understand), "You have no idea how deeply you just touched me." The ones that acknowledge that you just let us deep down inside you in that place you keep secret, and thank you for that gift.
Men should do this every so often to their lady love. It doesn't have to be long, just heartfelt. It doesn't have to be perfect, just perfectly yours. Write letters to your wives, your girlfriends, your children -- daughters AND sons. You never know when today might be your last day. Give them words in print to let them know how much they mean to you. On dark nights, those words will comfort. When you have a fight (and you will) those letters will help ease the pain.
I had my husband write letters to our children for when they are grown. Just in case we aren't here then. They will have our hearts printed on paper. They will have words to remind them of our love, our pride in them, our hopes for their future, our belief in them.
J. made me fall in love with him all over again. Not that it is hard to do, but we both get so busy with Life, that sometimes we forget to remind the other just how special they are to us. This reminder I can keep in my keepsake box (every girl has one, even if it's just a shoebox). I can pull it out when he is traveling for business, or when we have a fight, and remember just what it is that I love about him and be reminded that he loves me, too.
It's easy to forget that. Well, not so much forget as we need reassurance. Women are very vulnerable creatures (or at least I am), and we need that reassurance. We need to know that you still find us attractive (stretchmarks, extra pounds, and all); that you love us as much today as the day you married us; that you have no regrets; that you still want to be a part of our lives and have us a part of yours.
We aren't as tough as we would have you believe, or even as tough as we would like to believe. Our hearts are still fragile. We still need to be romanced. We still need your attention. We still need You.
So, when you have a few moments free, sit down and tell your lady love how you feel. It's a little thing to do, but it will mean more than you can possibly know. Be honest and open. Write from the heart. She will appreciate it, and love you even more. Don't be scared off by the tears you may cause. They really are good tears. And I'm sure, after she has wiped her eyes, she'll tell you just how much you mean to her.
J. is my best friend and my lover. He is my companion and my partner. He is my husband and he means more to me than anyone else on earth other than our children.
I love him, too.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)