Day 250: X-Men

Today I took my husband back over the mountains after a twelve-day visit to celebrate our son's graduation from high school.  How was the visit?  Nothing like either of us expected...

What did I expect?  I suppose I expected a knight in shining armor who would rescue me from the ravages of single-handedly trying to parent seven strong-willed children.

What did he expect?  It seems as though he expected a Martha Stewart meets June Cleaver hybrid complete with spotless house, heels, and gourmet meals.

What did we get?  Cyclops vs. Storm.  The first twenty-four hours were great, but by they time we hit the forty-eight hour mark, we weren't sure we were going to survive our "quality time" together.

What did we learn from the experience? We learned that recovery is a process, and although we are no longer "addict" and "enabler", we have a lot of rebuilding to do as a family and as a couple.  We also learned that expectations can be dangerous -- they are rarely realistic and are seldom ever met.

I can almost guarantee you that I will never be greeting my husband at the end of the day in heels and pearls with a five-course meal and a handcrafted centerpiece on our table, and my husband is not likely to ride up on a white horse wearing chain mail and brandishing a sword any time soon, but that's okay. Cyclops and Storm suit us just fine as long as we remember that we're both X-Men, and WE'RE ON THE SAME TEAM! We're finally figuring out that we'd much rather face the future with each other than against each other, and THAT, my friends, is progress!

Day 195: Months...

I haven't written in a while because, quite frankly, life has gotten too busy/complicated/tedious/uninspiring (pick one) to write about.  For the most part we are mostly/sort of/sometimes (pick one) fine, but sometimes we are fabulous/horrible (you know the drill...pick one).

For the most part, I've stopped counting time in days and weeks, there are just too many.  I now observe time in months -- months that we've been apart, months between visits, months until we will all be together again as a family...except that we never really will.  Two sons are grown, and by the time my husband returns, another will have graduated.  Time has become my enemy -- passing too slowly, or too quickly, but never at my preferred pace.

Who would have thought that the last six month would be more difficult than the first...

Day 127: Dance

I spent the weekend over on the west side with my husband. He had been granted a 48 hour pass, and I was desperate to see him. It had been almost six weeks since our last visit, and difficult weeks at that.

When I arrived at my sister's house on Friday afternoon, my husband was there waiting. As soon as I parked, the kids tumbled out of the vehicle and immediately mauled him. After many hugs and kisses, he managed to untangle himself from the jumble of adolescent arms and legs and came to coax me from the vehicle. I was tired and more than a little overwhelmed -- the trip had been long, and my week had been brutal.

Once inside, I wandered around the house for a bit making small talk with my brother-in-law while my husband unloaded the vehicle. Then I made my way to the guest bedroom. On the edge of the bed I found a note written in my husband's hand. Underneath it was small gift box and beneath the box a CD labeled simply "DANCE".

Tears welled up in my eyes as I read the note. Below is an excerpt:

"Dance is an interesting word.... The two main definitions are to move rhythmically to music and to appear to dazzle, shine, and twinkle. I was surprised by the second meaning. Just recently...I came across Ecclesiastes 3:4. It says there is a "time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance".... The word used in this text not only could mean to physically dance, but I believe it [also] means the latter. God gave me this verse to give to you. You have had times of weeping, times of laughing, times of mourning, and very soon you will have a time to dance."

Inside the box was a dainty silver necklace with the word "Dance" imprinted on the pendant, and on the CD was Lee Ann Womack's "I Hope You Dance".

Oh, how I love that man.