I often wondered what it was like to be married to me. I mean, I see the outward presentation and all, but I decided to "interview" my husband. Keep in mind, he thinks I'm innocently sitting over here...blogging. But no no, I'm recording his every word.
Me: Honey, what's it like to be married to me?
Honey: (long, odd stare...) A dream come true. (after further thought) What's it like to be married to you...I don't know! (blows nose, he has an upper respiratory infection, which I've not been sympathetic of. 'Cause I have ms. And a UTI. Everyone knows UTI is the straight flush and ms is the royal flush. He's got a pair of kings at best.)
Me: What I mean is, what's it like to be married to me with ms and all?
Honey: (laughs) I DON'T KNOW! What are you typing?
Me...busted.
I'd like to think that being married to me is like a fairy tale for my husband. That's how he used to make me feel when we were dating. "I loved you as soon as I saw you" is what he told me many times. Personally, I think it was the catholic school uniform he loved, but he won't admit it.
What's the reality, though? Being married to me could best be re-enacted by tossing a red sock into a front end washer full of whites. It slowly sloshes a bit to one side, then to the other as the water comes in. You feel a sense of peace as you watch it through the door. Oh what a nice little red sock, see how it carelessly moves about. Then you see the soap and bleach come sliding down the inner part of the door and realize...uh oh. That stuff's going to suck the color right out of that poor little red sock! The whites will absorb every ounce of the what the red sock once was! But the door is locked and you can't save it now. You can only watch in horror as the cycle enters "drain and spin", the washer barrel spins at 150mph, and the red/pink/white sock has been fully overcome. I often wonder...is my husband the red sock? I think he just might be.
I wasn't always like this. "This" has morphed over the years from the overactive, work-a-holic, fun-loving, life-of-the-party, movin' and shakin' girl...to the God loving, family tending, ms battling, hard working woman. I put "ms battling" ahead of "hard working", because ms has to be wrestled with just to get on with my work. But it's okay, because it keeps me grounded. It's my constant reminder that I'm fully and completely reliant upon God. I consider it my thorn, like in 2 Cornithians 12:7-10. Without it, I might get to thinking too highly of my own abilities, might get a little cocky, might stop appreciating things with the same intensity. That's right where I was at about 12-20yrs ago, and if I hadn't changed drastically? I hate to think what life would be like. I suppose I should take this moment to thank ms, but I won't. Instead, I will praise the Lord:-)
Since my husband won't answer, I'll do my best to summarize...
Being married to me means never knowing what any given day will look like. I may come in from work and collapse into bed, not resurfacing until it's time to pee...or until the next morning. It means never having a hot meal cooked the same night, because I cook everything on the weekend...when I have the most energy...and store it in the fridge as leftovers. It means never cleaning the house from top to bottom, because my energy is spent on work. It means facing emotional lability straight on with nowhere to run. It means that, if I have to carry laundry baskets around, you might get yelled at. It means that, if you try to carry a laundry basket for me, you might get yelled at...because I GOT IT! But he keeps coming home. He keeps kissing me "hello", "good morning", "good bye", and "good night"...sometimes twice. He cares for me in the ways he knows how. And he works. Very. Hard. Recently, he had the chance to work a little less hard, but it involved a big decision...and that big decision centered around me. For the first time ever, when I asked for his advice, he didn't say "I don't know". Instead, he said he knew where my heart was, and that I should follow it. He said God will provide, and that he still has plenty in the tank to keep working in his 2 part-time jobs...on top of his full-time job.
We're fast approaching our 16th wedding anniversary. That makes about 17.5yrs together, and 22yrs of knowing one another. Yeah, we've had our unfair share of drama years ago, but we've come through it stronger. And at some point, we'd like to renew our vows. I've asked him if he wanted to take out the part that goes, "in sickness and in health". He said, "only if you want to take out 'for richer or for poorer'." Nah. I'll keep him, for richer or poorer. 'Cause he keeps me...in sickness.
Happy Anniversary, Honey! Love you so much:-)
1 comment:
I say "I wasn't always like this" so often that I think I might have it tattooed on my person somewhere - as if I could ever forget that I wasn't always like this. But if I did it somewhere visible, at least I wouldn't have to say it so much - people could just read it for themselves and save me the trouble.
I have probably said to Chris - equal number of times - "you didn't sign on for this." I mean, really, neither did I... but, what the hell, I can't get away from it. He could if he wanted to. But he doesn't. (or hasn't as of yet!)
I like your sock analogy, but I would turn it around.... because I like to think of me (and my permanant tag-a-long MS) as the red sock. (because really? If MS had a color, wouldn't it be red?) It just bleeds into every-damn-thing around me. All my relationships, all my daily activities, all my everything.... but.... without me? All those things would just be bland old boring white..... instead of varying shades of pink from my influence.
I like pink.
And for all that pink? That red doesn't lose it's vibrancy. I was vibrant before MS and I'll be vibrant with it. I turned people/things/situations pink before, and I will continue to do so now.... maybe for different reasons, but what the hell.... pink is still pretty, right? Gotta color the world somehow.
;-)
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