Since 1990 every time I have given a wedding gift in the card I have written these words: husbands and wives are a dime a dozen but a best friend to spend the rest of your life with is one in a million. I learned this twenty seven years ago TODAY when my daddy walked me down the aisle to join my very young life with that guy I live with.
This is not the first anniversary we have spent in different time zones but this year I have this handy dandy blog to broadcast the secrets of a blessed relationship:
1. I met that guy I live with in 1984 when I was 15 years old. He came over to my house to court my sister but she was not interested. Yes, little sister gets the hand-me-downs.
2. Our first “date” was to a Junior High football game in Elysian Fields to watch Lance play. It came a down pour and we retreated innocently to the car. Most of the night we listened to Bryan Adams sing “straight from the heart”.
3. With Lance still in the back seat we held hands for the first time on the way home. Journey was playing on the radio, “Sender my love” and that guy I live with bumped my hand accidentally. I thought he was shyly attempting to hold my hand so I grabbed his like a bass on top water bait.
4. The first time we kissed our teeth bumped. It was his fault.
5. When we started ‘going together’ (80’s term) we were standing at the top of the bleachers at a football game in Beckville.
“People keep asking me if we are going together”, he said.
“What do you tell them?”
“What should I tell them?” From the very beginning he answered questions with questions.
“Tell them we are.”
Since then there have been days when I have wanted more, days when I have wanted less, and days when I didn’t know what I wanted.
Together we have had 5 pregnancies and three sons; we have buried our fathers and grandparents; we completed our four year degrees. Today, if he is reading this from Mississippi or Louisiana then he will know that I have left a surprise for him in the capable hands of my mother.
The Claddaugh Ring: the symbolism dates back centuries.
According to Google University:
1. The hands represent friendship; to me they represent history, where we started, the past that we drag along with us daily.
2. The heart represents love but to me it is today and the opportunity to make today better than yesterday.
3. The crown represents loyalty. The future, the potential, possibilities, and purposeful intention to live happily ever after.
Happy Anniversary to that guy I live with!
Thursday, July 9, 2015
Saturday, July 4, 2015
Five things I can see from here:
1. I see a family sitting at the bar. I suspect they don’t recognize they are in a hotel tavern but think it is an extension of the atrium. The children are tumbling about on the furniture and seem to be waiting for something. One of the young youngsters is about 10 years old and is wearing purple soccer socks.
2. The Pizza delivery guy and the Chinese food deliver guy are waiting at the ‘circle table’ of the lobby. They exchange casual dialogue in an almost tragic fashion while anticipating that at any moment their caller will meander into the lobby and rescue them.
3. A fireplace in Florida. I assume it is there for the sole purpose of dangling the Christmas decorations. When do you use a fireplace in Florida? By the way, the family in the bar is now playing Patty-cake or something as unpleasant.
4. The revolving door and its exhausting crusade and determination to bring people in and take people out in chorus and without disruption.
5. Five American flags in a spray of cut flowers, (also red, white and blue) poised in graceful partisanship, exhibiting independence, and placed in celebration of the birthdate of American.
Oddly enough this seems to some extent like work.
2. The Pizza delivery guy and the Chinese food deliver guy are waiting at the ‘circle table’ of the lobby. They exchange casual dialogue in an almost tragic fashion while anticipating that at any moment their caller will meander into the lobby and rescue them.
3. A fireplace in Florida. I assume it is there for the sole purpose of dangling the Christmas decorations. When do you use a fireplace in Florida? By the way, the family in the bar is now playing Patty-cake or something as unpleasant.
4. The revolving door and its exhausting crusade and determination to bring people in and take people out in chorus and without disruption.
5. Five American flags in a spray of cut flowers, (also red, white and blue) poised in graceful partisanship, exhibiting independence, and placed in celebration of the birthdate of American.
Oddly enough this seems to some extent like work.
Thursday, July 2, 2015
It's not about you
I'm a little bit frazzled and rightly so. Last week I laid around in airports from Shreveport to Chicago and back. After spending 36 consecutive hours in the in six different terminals, in four different cities I took a day of mental R&R. I slept twelve hours in my own wallowed out gel top king-sized bed. I twisted and wiggled and I tried to recuperate and I guess I did just in time to start over this week. Out of Bush Intercontinental on Sunday evening, through Dallas Fort Worth into Oklahoma city. Monday night I boarded in Oklahoma City to Omaha, Nebraska and then back to OKC on Tuesday. I worked late on Wednesday but after three nights in the airports I was happy to catch up on some employee online education and emails. It's Thursday night and I have managed to get to the Delta terminal of Tulsa International Airport. Destination: Jackson, Mississippi.
This morning I drove off with my day planner lying on top of the rental car while I talked on the phone to a customer in Hutchinson, Kansas. On my way to the airport I pulled a half inch long (thankfully) blonde hair from my chin that no one bothered to tell me existed. It's all okay though because I like my job and because in seat 23B, next to me, on a dark plane into Jackson, Mississippi, I saw a reflection if myself.
I started off thinking, no, of all the crazy people on this plane, why do I have to sit by 'the guy.' You know ‘the guy’; the one who sat in the bar too long; the one that thinks his jokes are funnier than they really are; the guy in the Hawaiian shirt headed to Mississippi.
Before we were to the runway I knew he was a drug rep for Upshur Smith out of Minnesota. He's been there two years and he loves it. Before that he was in pharmaceutical sales for a global company but not happy. Before we had the wheels up he told me his life was changed and that today he was a better man. He brought it up so I asked, “what event changed your life?” If Ron was telling this he might say it was turning 49 years old and realizing that he's living on borrowed time since his Dad died at 49. He might say it was the realization that life is too short and he has much to laugh about and live for. He might tell you about the day in 2010 when he hit his knees and gave his life to the Jesus that his step grandmother told him about when he was just a kid. Maybe he would tell you it was his own kids and his determination to do right by them or the love of his life that they called mom that divorced him a few years back.
His jokes still aren't that funny (sorry, Ron) but through his stories and his willingness to share them I could see a little bit of myself and the places I could grow. He shared this simple motto: it starts with me but it's not about me.
I've heard that before; I've said that before but tonight I heard that from someone in seat 23B that needed to say it and be heard.
This morning I drove off with my day planner lying on top of the rental car while I talked on the phone to a customer in Hutchinson, Kansas. On my way to the airport I pulled a half inch long (thankfully) blonde hair from my chin that no one bothered to tell me existed. It's all okay though because I like my job and because in seat 23B, next to me, on a dark plane into Jackson, Mississippi, I saw a reflection if myself.
I started off thinking, no, of all the crazy people on this plane, why do I have to sit by 'the guy.' You know ‘the guy’; the one who sat in the bar too long; the one that thinks his jokes are funnier than they really are; the guy in the Hawaiian shirt headed to Mississippi.
Before we were to the runway I knew he was a drug rep for Upshur Smith out of Minnesota. He's been there two years and he loves it. Before that he was in pharmaceutical sales for a global company but not happy. Before we had the wheels up he told me his life was changed and that today he was a better man. He brought it up so I asked, “what event changed your life?” If Ron was telling this he might say it was turning 49 years old and realizing that he's living on borrowed time since his Dad died at 49. He might say it was the realization that life is too short and he has much to laugh about and live for. He might tell you about the day in 2010 when he hit his knees and gave his life to the Jesus that his step grandmother told him about when he was just a kid. Maybe he would tell you it was his own kids and his determination to do right by them or the love of his life that they called mom that divorced him a few years back.
His jokes still aren't that funny (sorry, Ron) but through his stories and his willingness to share them I could see a little bit of myself and the places I could grow. He shared this simple motto: it starts with me but it's not about me.
I've heard that before; I've said that before but tonight I heard that from someone in seat 23B that needed to say it and be heard.
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