Being alone while being married


I was “single” this week due to my hubby’s business trip. In our thirty plus years, these trips are fairly rare. Yet, each separation gives me the chance to be alone. I love marriage. I love my husband. But being alone this time challenged me.

To get married is a choice. Thom and I lovingly chose one another and we've always wanted to stay together. But what was the cost of that choice? I believe that all choices have a cost. For me, I was able to “do my thing” while raising kids and managing the home front. My cost? I don’t think it was much. I was doing what I wanted.

Thom’s cost was far more expensive. Throughout our decades, there have been things he had to place on the shelf. He loves music. He’s a songwriter and a true performer at heart. His dream went on the shelf long ago. How much did that cost? I guess I’ll never know.

We all have dreams. I guess a better word would be “aspirations”. And we hope to be able to reach those goals. I always wanted to be a mother. Check. I always wanted to be involved in my family’s lives. Check. I love reading and writing and have had the time to do both. Check.

How’s Thom doing on his list? That’s what challenged me this week. In my alone time, I began to pick apart the fabric that we so carefully wove together. I could see the evidence of my realized dreams, but where were his? His face is missing in many family photos because he’s the one chronicling our lives. I’ve watched him on the sidelines of sporting events, or in the audience watching others on stage. What was the cost to him as he watched others?

I've lived a long time on the selfish side of the tracks, so I guess I just expected things to be this way. Now I see that my life was the way it was because Thom chose to make it that way. It humbles me to think he loves me so much that his life has been about making my life what it is. My new season with adult children allows me to see things with different glasses. I’d like to reach up on the shelf and pull down those dreams he placed there~~ give him the chance that he’s given me. I'd like to make a choice to give back. And it’s a cost I’ll gladly pay.

Popular posts from this blog

Counting the Cost

Image
Something big is missing in this photo. Let me explain. Here in my hometown, the Lower Elwha Klallam Tribe prepared a parcel of land for a new hotel. Plenty of planning and architectural designs were evaluated. A gemstone of a hotel would be built across from the waterfront—a beautiful, restful place welcoming travelers. A true four-star facility.   They cleared the aging brick structures that had been fading away between Front Street and Railroad Avenue. Then the pandemic hit, shortages of labor and supplies, add in the costly inflation that followed. Everything stopped.   But this is what I admire about the Elwha Tribe: they have counted the cost. They didn’t want to move forward and take on tremendous debt. They would rather move slowly and be financially ready, rather than begin building and then letting it sit unfinished.   Counting the cost is something I should have done earlier in life when I didn’t know what high interest rates would do to our farming cost...
Read more

Summertime Music

Image
During the summer months, in an outside seating area, a delightfully painted piano sits with a sign that says, “Play me”.   It was just before 8 pm as I walked past the piano. My bus would be arriving soon, and I still have another ten minutes to walk before reaching my bus stop. But no one is around. It’s a beautiful warm evening. I pulled out the piano bench and sat down. The sun was behind me, and the piano keys reflected its glow. I had no music in front of me, only the songs within me. Notes drifted into the air.  In those brief moments, the magic of music and summer came together. Isn’t that how it is? Summertime music has a way of lingering in our minds and lasting a lifetime. As I stood and grabbed my things, I heard distant clapping—I guess I wasn’t alone, after all.
Read more

Planting Good Seeds

Image
Harvest will always depend on what we plant and how well we care for our crop.    Looking over my seed packets, I notice they’re different than the ones I planted before. One package is called Word seeds. The directions say that each of my words is a seed, so it cautions me to think before I speak. Harsh words don’t produce sweet, nourishing fruit. These seeds will require thoughtful care in the garden. I see some Volunteer seeds. Those extra hours I tend to fritter away are going to be planted in a useful project.   It looks like time isn’t wasted in this garden plot. Next are some Love seeds—the directions are interesting: get up each day and love others. No specifics are given—just do something for someone every day. The seed package shows pictures of smiling faces. I smile back. As I’m ready to head to the garden with my seeds, a package falls to the ground. I open it. Inside are the tiniest seeds I’ve ever seen—but the directions s...
Read more