My friend, Ann Marie, at Household6Diva wrote an amazing post a couple of days ago. It made me cry. Gregg goes back Friday, which accounts for some of the emotions I’m sure.
Tag: Holy matrimony
When God said, ” It is not good that man should be alone; I will make him a helper comparable to him,” (Genesis 2:18) there are two Hebrew words that could have been used for “not good.” One is ‘ên tôb, which means that something is lacking. As in, this coffee is lacking cinnamon, or these mashed potatoes are lacking salt. The other is lõ’tôb, which means positively bad. As in, it is positively bad that man is alone, so I will make for him a helper.
I’m a worrier. I actually drive my husband to distraction with it. I don’t verbalize most of it, but he knows me, so he knows. When faced with situations, my mind goes through what the worse case scenario would be. I think it’s a manner of preparing me for whatever is, and if it’s not the worse case, then I can handle whatever it is.
The first thing that attracted me to Gregg was his mind. Before we met in person, we had known each other online for two years as part of a writers’ group. This group was supposed to be about writing, but writers like to read what they write, so it was a prolific bunch. We discussed everything from writing to politics to religion. After 9-11, it really exploded with talking and writing, and it wasn’t unusual to get 400-500 emails a day. Gregg and I are very similarrily minded when it comes to religion and politics, so we “bonded” intellectually long before we met. However, that bonding never went beyond the discussions to anything personal simply because I was married. The first time we ever had a private conversation, I was already separated from my husband.
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Men are visual creatures. And we live in an extremely visual world. From swimsuit models pedaling beer to shiny sports car commercials, we are bombarded visually on a constant basis. You can barely even read a website without your peripheral vision being attacked with ads that flash, scroll, bleep, bloop. I was on a website recently trying to read a long line of text and an ad in the sidebar was so annoying that I had to open another window and put it in front of the one I was reading to block the ad.
The weekend after we met for the first time, Gregg confessed his love for me.
While I feel strong feelings of love and devotion to my husband, to whom I am certainly emotionally attached, I am not an overly affectionate person. I think there was a time when I once was, when I was younger, but circumstances and situations can strip tendencies away. Over time, I’ve become very stoic about most things. I am not overly emotional ever, I don’t react emotionally, and I’m not really a reach out and hug kind of person.
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I don’t know that we as women give the differences in men and women’s brains and thinking enough credit. We feel. We feel deeply. When your husband writes you a love letter, it likely fills your heart to overflowing. His words likely awaken a romanticism inside of you, make you go all soft and gushy inside, give you words to focus on, ponder, adore. It can make you fall in love with him all over again.
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Finances are always a tough topic in a marriage. Other than sex, it is probably the largest topic of discord in most husband and wife relationships. The problem is that most people feel uncomfortable talking about money. Talks about money can slide into arguments about who spent what on lunch, who promised too much to charity, who should have been saving more, and who makes the most. The thing is, money is a necessary factor in life and talking about money is a necessary factor in a marriage.
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This chapter is extremely timely for me. Since long before we were married, Gregg has done the same thing. He is a computer consultant and teacher. A company calls him and says, “We need x, y, and maybe z.” And, Gregg packs his bags and makes hotel reservations and flies to the company and does x, y, and usually z². Another company will call and say, “We have this situation and this many people need training.” So, Gregg will pack his bag, make hotel reservations, and fly to the next exotic city where he’ll teach and train for a week or more. He’s really quite good at what he does.
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