Blogged at my other (art/craft) blog: shebrews
My thoughts for today. shebrews (specific post)
Working on this. To be friends. With my mate. Some days go well, some days stink. Some days its my fault, some days its his, somedays, neither of us try very hard. We celebrated 39 years of marriage, and two years of dating this year. Lots of water under the bridge, as they say.
This week he chose to use Brut after shave. It's amazing what a scent will do for memory. Immediately, I felt the upholstered bucket seats in his 1965 GTO, and heard the rumble of the glass packs as it idled where we always parked. That smell mesmorized me. I told him that he should wear it more often, as it invoked good memories, and made me think good thoughts for building our relationship. As I began to remember the things I admired about him, and the little things he did for me, that perhaps he only abandoned as I took them for granted. Little things matter. They say, little foxes spoil the vineyard. Yes, I agree.
When I get the scent of Brut, I immediately remember the feeling of safety in his arms as a young woman dreams about their future mate. Even now, as I write, it isn't hard to imagine his face back then, his gait, his breath, his quiet voice on the phone so his mother couldn't hear what he was saying to me.
Somethings happen to spoil the magic after all the crisis and drama of raising five children and their friends and acquaintances. Things we differed about became larger than things we agreed on. Sides were taken, preferences made, prejudices built. But, luckily, every now and then, we come together on something so strong, we know we must keep trying. We must remember what drew us together, and once again, appreciate that.
I am going to a 50th wedding celebration tomorrow. I cannot imagine, except, I am so close to that. I watch my children going through the stages of married life and hope they keep the good memories somewhere near the top. Too many give up too soon. I think of one of their favorite movies to watch where the theme song rang: "There are no cats in America, and the streets are lined with cheese."
Yeah, we mice planned as good as we could to expell the cats, but I am reminded of a Proverb that came to my in my first married years, and sustained me because of it. "Where no oxen are, the crib is clean, but strength is in the Ox. "
There is a lot of muscle-lacking today. We have no stamina for the hard stuff. We can afford to ward it off. Or we take the easy way out.
It's hard to keep my arms lifted to Heaven. God doesn't seem to talk much these days. I think He's waiting for us to quiet down. He doesn't really like shouting. He more likes burning bushes and goats on the mountain side. That's what makes me so mad, He doesn't get mad about the things I get mad about......
But, my arms are still up. Like the disciples once told Jesus, "To Whom else would we go?"
So, my mate and I, we struggle along, together. Some days we make it difficult for the other, and some days we just couldn't do it without the other one by our side. It is what it is. He holds my arms up, and I hold his arms up, when we can't do it alone because we are too tired.
Two are better than one, says the same Proverb writer, "For if one falls, the other is there to pick them up." My question is, "Is the fall necessary?"
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