”Yikes!” I screamed. ”There’s a tiny green larva crawling over me!” I shouted, squirmed, and squatted, all actions indicated to move my husband, AKA my knight in shining armor, into action. Not happening. He glanced at me before stating, “At least you know that you’re not toxic.” Say what? “He nodded thoughtfully: “Yeah, it would never have come near you if you were. So, you’re not toxic.”
Not toxic??
And after almost 25 years of marriage, that’s how you know I’m not toxic?! I’ll show you toxic…!
Sometimes I think he has a death wish or something closely related. It took him more than 20 years to realize that the correct answer to “How do I look?” was not “OK”. Like, average. Will do. Don’t really care. Now, he knows better. After years of training, and threats involving the use of electric dog collars, he makes an effort and says, “really OK”. He even nods approvingly. Thumbs up. Can’t really say it’s a change, though. More like a minuscule adjustment. Well, I’m the forgiving kind. Improvement noted and duly appreciated.
My husband is my best friend. The world’s best confidant. My partner-in-crime.
I love the flavor he brings to my life and I cherish the life we have together. I love that he’s different from me; the way he complements me makes me stronger. By being together, we both remain unique even while blended.
We’re like a deconstructed meal where each flavor brings out the best of the other.
If it weren’t for him, our kids would have grown up differently. Our youngest would certainly not have been using hunter knives from the age of 2. “He’ll get used to them. The sharper the knife, the easier it is for him to handle.” Right. I nodded nervously and monitored the IV tubes attached to his body, while mentally making notes of keeping ice in the fridge at all times, forceps and clean plastic bags handy, and memorizing the quickest route to the hospital.
He would teach our kids how to plan construction projects and stand by as they saw them through. Their father made sure our kids stayed true to their word, that they honored agreements, and respected instructions even if they didn’t agree with them. He has always modeled integrity.
He still loves a good prank.
Whenever I hear Adrian shout: “Stop it! Oh, you twit!”, it always makes me chuckle. It amuses me that my husband has kept his playfulness, that our kids still thinks he’s goofy or downright stupid. I’m glad they’re confident enough to tell him so.
I love that he’s not me.
Whenever we are in a relationship we run the risk of trying to convert our significant other, or even our friends, into versions of ourselves, not realizing that we will miss out on their unique flavor and features. It is often assumed that pride motivates a person’s need to change another, but I think it’s fear. We somehow believe that if we control the other, the world will become more predictable, less scary, and more manageable. But who wants a bland world anyway?
I want the flavors. The colors. The laughter. The tears. I want a full life. A true life.
I may go through troubles, but I refuse to live life from fear.
Whenever we give in to fear, we end up wanting to change people instead of celebrating them. Fear will make us lament that we have not arrived and miss out on the beauty of the journey. Like a thief, he steals joy and laughter, leaving a trail of hopelessness and resentment. Fear will give you the bland world none of us ever wanted.
Truth is, we are constantly changing.
None of us are fully finished projects, because our mansions are still under construction. We are being refined. Sometimes people or circumstances will cause you to want to change. Great! Being pliable will enable you to use your strong features for the benefit of your surroundings.
We do not demand change from others. We offer our own.
Sometimes we exchange good for better. It takes courage to let go of the good, the known, the predictable. Not surprisingly, it takes even more to accept the unknown, the challenging, the rocky road.
It takes love to embrace the differences.
To quote a friend, “What does love look like?”
It looks OK.
Really OK.