I’ll get right to it. My husband, Phil, has always been a great guy, but there was one big issue with his greatness. He was perfectly capable of dropping his dirty clothes in the hamper, which has always been placed conveniently in our closet. But did he ever do this simple thing that he was perfectly capable of doing? Nope. Most of the time, he dropped his dirty clothes right in front of the clothes hamper. Right in front.
At first, I tried to handle it with humor. I conducted a dirty clothes protocol seminar in our closet.
I invited him into the closet with me, where I used exaggerated gestures while standing varying distances from the hamper, all the while counting out loud how many seconds it took me to toss laundry into the basket rather than in front of it. Of course, I also pointed out that even though I cannot see, I rarely missed.
When my son Clayton was 14, he took violin lessons. My husband, Phil, would take him, wait for the thirty minutes, and then the guys would drive through McDonald’s and arrive home with french fries in hand.
But, one Thursday, they were a whole hour late! I checked the time and started to get concerned. Then, I heard the garage door.
Happy Valentine’s Day week! It’s that time of the year when we are surrounded by paper hearts and lots of chocolate (and I’m definitely not going to complain about extra chocolate!) But, instead of talking you about how much I love my husband, I wanted to tell you about something that has been on my mind lately. Best rest assured, it still has lots to do with love, love, love.
My daughter-in-law, Caroline, guest posted an insightful blog a while back. You may remember it; it was called My Husband Doesn’t Fulfill Me. She has been married just over a year and has come to the conclusion that her husband, my son, does not fulfill her. Now, lest you think that is a blight against my dear son, it isn’t! When she says her husband doesn’t fulfill her, she is making the point that a man is not supposed to totally fulfill his wife.
Total fulfillment can only come from God.
Her post got me to thinking. I have been married 27 years and my husband doesn’t fulfill me either. In fact, he never has. And the sad thing is, I used to blame him for it.
Welcome to my birthday bash! If you’re just joining us, be sure to catch up on the party HERE and at the end of the post, enter to win the Ultimate C.S. Lewis Swag Bag! Peek into the Swag Bag HERE.
Today is the final day of my nerdy birthday bash! It’s hard to see it go, but today I have a special guest on my blog. You will love him – I sure do! He doesn’t write on my blog often, but his name is mentioned very often. Without further ado, please welcome my husband – Dr. Phil! Take it away Phil!
The tip of his index finger feels light against my skin. He taps, blends, and smears ever so gently.
“I love you and I think you’re beautiful,” he says.
It’s yet another black eye. This one, courtesy of the six-foot-tall bedpost in our bedroom. The arrangement of the furniture in the room hadn’t changed, but evidently, my brain had. I’m older. It’s hard to remember everything all the time. Where am I walking? Which way am I turned? What wall am I facing?
So, into the bedpost I walked. Another black eye. This one, though, just seemed to heal more slowly than the ones before. Another change of aging.
As his fingertip swirls the beige putty that hides the blueish reminder of my memory lapse, I realize one thing has not changed. He loves me gently. He loves me well. He loves me in ways that no one really could imagine.