He has already sent me dozens of homes to look at.
You see, his duty now is to find us a home – me and the three cats. And he is taking it very seriously. He knows well what I enjoy in a home and what I can cast off as unimportant. Some people care about location and amenities but I care only that the light can come in, that my eyes have a vista to settle on, and that I’ve enough room for the books and us.
Okay – and two bathrooms. I hate to clean bathrooms.
So he sends a dozen links and I give 2/3’s the boot, leaving just a choice few. How does one know from 1,000 miles what is worthwhile and not? I am like a bachelor in a singles bar, looking over the targets and casting them aside for the smallest flaw or lack of appearance. I’ve no time. Well, maybe make that a bachelor on his last day of life. Yes, it’s that calculating.
Still, the fact that he hasn’t even hinted at the “are you sure this won’t do?” speaks well for him.
I tell you this – we don’t fight. We may disagree and get angry but we don’t take it to the button pushing level. We try to fight back the worst words and come up with the ones that honestly reflect our feelings so that an understanding can take place. It’s almost more mathematical than emotional in that way – 2+2=4 so that’s why I am angry about A+B. It’s logic versus emotion. And so in this, when my arguments to and against a home can be quite superficial, there is no sighing or rebuttal. Just an acceptance and a moving on.
Now, I know there are people out there who simply cannot communicate with their spouse and that has to be horrid. We’re not perfect and there are times that I have to back down my feminine bullshit and just accept that He Is A Man. No, he isn’t going to notice your subtle clues. Sometimes you have to be quite clear. And that’s alright because – because he IS a man – I can rely on him to be doing the right and best thing for us though we’re miles apart.
Can I even begin to tell you how much relief I have in that knowledge? Sure! I know some of tou men are saying, “Yeah but the fucking pressure!” Suck it up. You’re a man. You are supposed to work well under pressure. I am supposed to wring my hands and worry. That’s the deal.
So I am able to sit here, plan the next boxes to pack and KNOW that he’s getting his ass on the road this morning to scout out where we will be for at least the next year. It is one thing I don’t have to think about.
And do you think he sometimes feels like its an uneven burden? Surely. He wouldn’t say it but I know that he often thinks my life here quite easy while his own an interminable hell. But the key to it is – he doesn’t say so. Or, if he does have to let it all out, it isn’t with malice or blame, no finger pointing. Just simple “life here sucks and here’s why”. And this is because he was raised that way. Bless his grandpa. Life is hard. There are no shortcuts through hard times. And hard times will come to an end. Those are lessons he learned while still young. They have carried him through till this very day.
And do you think his “duck” nature irks me? Oh, yes…yes, I call it that because he can let so many things just roll off his back with a “does it matter? can I do anything about it?” decision process. I have to roll it around in my mouth, comprehend every aspect of the decision – if this then what? It’s called worrying. I do it well and I do it a lot. He doesn’t. So yes, we do have conflict when my worrying comes against his duckyness. But we move on. Often, I can impress upon him the issues and concerns via logic and the right argument but often he is right – all the worrying for naught. The matter concludes itself and it is done, over. So it goes.
So I guess that’s the reason for the title. When you value the person and the relationship over being right, it’s all about the love. Find a way there and your lives will be simple. Don’t be a woman, pouting over every failed attempt to wheedle him into something. Don’t be a spoiled brat of a man, poking at her until she flares up and out and you feel the satisfaction of an internal “I told you so”. Just talk to each other. And it doesn’t even have to be touchy feely “when you do this I feel like that” bullshit. Women, be more logical. Men operate on that level. Shove that whiny girly crap to the side and save it for your friends. And you men? Especially those raised by single women? Quit being whiners, too. You aren’t a woman – you don’t get to pout. You get to make decisions and be the problem solver.
So many men have been ruined by mothers wanting to turn them into these “feeling” little bastards (that can be literal as well as figurative). They want to make them into the man that wouldn’t have left them. Which turns them into these conflicted little wimps that can’t take on life head-on. Instead, they stumble and struggle and never quite manage to be men. Great gift, there, mom.
And dads – if you ever leave a child because you cannot bear the mother you are the greatest SOB born. Find a way. Man up, yourself, and give that child the influence, the courage it needs to live in this world. We’ve an entire generation of men coming into power, now, that haven’t the moral courage to see a threat for what it is and deal with it. Instead, there is conciliation, fear, bargaining and delay. They make friends with the bully and give him their lunch money. And this will be the end of our civilization, our American experiment.
Oh, I know – you’re thinking that’s just fantastical reaching. But it’s true. Do you think we started this great place with men who equivocated at every threat? We started with men willing to kiss goodbye their entire lives and take on a government in order to ensure they didn’t have to lick the boots of another man. If we don’t start raising more like them, the boots will come and we will all be on our knees, praying for relief. Already, we’ve plenty girding themselves with kneepads, happy to bow just as long as they can still surf the net for porn. Pale, weak creatures who haven’t even the ability to look beyond their keyboard, willing to believe whatever illogical argument is given if it ensures they don’t have to fight.
Pray that we’ve better men coming. Coming home from war and knowing now to look for those boots on the horizon. Knowing that sometimes it’s necessary to fight.
All for love. For the love of the man beside you, for the woman at home and hoping, for the country that is nearly washing away on the tides of complacency.