Monday, December 31, 2012


My mother is a good cook. His mother is a good cook. We both expected to eat well when we began our home together. I don't know why? I guess you believe you will live like how you grew up. When we started out we both worked and went to school so we shared household chores including cooking. We basically ate meat and potatoes, or a variation of that (although there were probably a lot of grilled cheese and tomato soup dinners thrown in). We rarely ate out. Neither of us were fond of fast food, and like I said, we were use to eating well.

My mother was a more adventurous cook, so I was accustomed to a more diverse menu. When He finished school and I stayed home full time I became the primary cook. I was determined to expand His pallet. Like my mother, I sought out the best that different cultures had to offer. My mother said: "a good cook is good cook, no mater what ingredients are used". I was on a Greek phase, and I decided to try moussaka. I already knew that lasagna was not His favorite (although I love it). Moussaka it was.

It took a lot of preparation and it looked delicious. my own account it was pretty bad. I have decided I do not like eggplant. I knew if I thought it was bad He thought it was horrible. He didn't say anything. He ate the hearty serving I had put on His plate. However, He did not want seconds (a dead giveaway). He thanked me for dinner. Later when I asked Him if He liked it He said it was good. I asked Him if I should put it on the dinner rotation? ( I read somewhere that the average family repeats the same 20 meals for dinner.) He said: "we don't need to have it if it is so difficult to make". He eats anything I make, no matter what is in it. He doesn't complain. He always tells me He loves anything I cook-even if He doesn't.

He happily endures my culinary experiments... more reason I love Him.

Monday, December 24, 2012


He doesn't sing. He doesn't pretend to sing. I was in charge of the Christmas Eve program. I had written a script that included musical numbers. I needed a soloist for How Great Thou Art. It is a difficult piece of music and requires quite a bit of confidence to pull it off.

I had hoped that I could get someone to perform it a cappella. I could not find anyone to take the part. It was an important element to the program, and I decided that if I couldn't find someone to sing it that I would just have the pianist play it. The morning of the program I told Him that I didn't have anyone to sing the song. I asked if He would be willing to do it. He said that He really didn't want to do it, but He said He would if I need Him to.

He wasn't able sing it a cappella, and He had to have a few chords changed. He then practiced it for about a half hour with the accompanist. He sang a song with friends in high school once, but other than that He has never sung in front of anyone before except in a group. That evening He sang a solo of How Great Thou Art, because I needed Him to.

He sang... more reason I love Him.

Monday, December 17, 2012


He is His father's son. He has always been close to His father. I think it is probably both nature and nurture. He and His father shared similar interests, they had the same temperament, and people often told Him that He reminded them of His father (however, that can also cause a child to rebel). He was also brought up with a healthy dose of respect laced with a little fear of His father. His father was a man of few words. He said what needed to be said, but not much more than what was necessary. He was neither a playful nor demonstrative man. He was however a man of principles, and his word was enough.

Once in a while I saw His father get upset with Him for whatever infraction He had committed (usually related to His attitude while playing sports). He rarely, if never, talked back to His father that I witnessed, but I think that was fairly normal for His generation. What impressed me most about His attitude toward His father was how He respected him on a personal and private level. He contemplated His father's advice. If His father reprimanded His behavior or attitude, He thought about it. If His father offered direction, He didn't dismiss it. His father was conscientious about looking for opportunities to help neighbors, friends and family, and often drug Him along as an extra hand. His father would even offer His service to someone without asking Him. He always went along with it.

Their relationship wasn't perfect, but there was never anything that had to be resolved or mended, they just moved on. When His father would say or do something that He didn't agree with, or that challenged Him, He would walk away without a confrontation. He would go home frustrated, simmer for a bit, and then sleep on it (it also may have caused some tossing and turning). Sometimes He would change His mind, sometimes He would stand His ground, and sometimes He would apologize. But the one constant was that He never said or did anything to alter their relationship. He loved and respected His father, and that meant dealing with whatever.

He worked on His relationship... more reason I love Him.


Monday, December 10, 2012


He had a waterbed. That was the only furniture we had when we started out. He loved His bed. I, however, was not thrilled with the sloshing and rolling, not to mention the cold. He loved the cold. It had a heater and He was willing to turn it on for me, but it never even warmed up to tepid. We slept on that bed for a year, and I was uncomfortable every single night. I didn't complain (at least that's how I remember it).

I don't usually give Him much credit for being perceptive. This is one time I have to give it to Him. He told me that He was going to make me a new bed. His woodworking skills were limited to junior high shop class. That did not limit His enthusiasm for the idea of building me a bed. He asked me what I wanted and to draw Him a plan. What I wanted was a four poster, mahogany colored, queen sized bed that sat high off the ground. I visualized an exotic Caribbean plantation bed. He and His dad worked on it for a couple months in the shop behind His parents house. He delivered a version pretty close to my dreams.

This is the romanticized version of the story. I am sure I complained about the waterbed, as well as His attachment to it. In all likelihood it was probably a point of contention. This is not what I dwell on though. What matters is that: one- He gave up what He wanted; two- He asked me what I wanted; three, He put forth His best effort to make me happy; and four-He did it in a timely fashion.

He built it... more reason I love Him

Monday, December 3, 2012


My father tried to stop Him. Its not that he didn't like Him, rather he was giving Him an exit strategy in case He was having second thoughts.

It was the day of our wedding. My father picked Him up to drive Him to the ceremony (an intimidation tactic-or nuptial enforcement?). There was a stop sign at the bottom of the hill He lived on. At the sign my father stopped...and didn't go. He turned to Him and said, "You know, She can be very headstrong". That was it. No explanation, no expounding. He didn't know how to reply. He wondered if my father wanted Him to turn around. Maybe He thought my father wanted to say that he warned Him if it came up later, so He couldn't say He didn't know." What did he mean by "headstrong"?! I thought I had been a fairly easy daughter to raise, compliant, obedient, helpful, and goodnatured. What personality traits had I unwittingly been displaying that my father felt a need to give Him such a pregnant warning?

When He figured out my father was waiting for an answer He said, "okay". At that my father continued on their way. He didn't tell me about this episode until a few years ago. What must have been going through His mind? As it was a fairly long drive to the ceremony, He had a lot of time to think about what my father meant by the warning. Did He have second thoughts? Did He think it was too late to back out? Was He petrified taking His wedding vows? This episode puts a whole different perspective on that day.

He didn't hesitate... more reason I love Him.