This week I’ve been asked to look at my love again. And it sequels well to last week’s blog. After being across country for three weeks, I came home to a husband who wasn’t sure he wanted our marriage anymore.
I know him after 26 years of marriage, so I wasn’t devastated, but a bit surprised at some of the things he said, like, “There’s nothing to work on.”
“After 26 years? are you crazy?” was my maybe-not-so-loving response. I knew he had fallen into his black hole where everything is dark and fed by CRH and ACTH (the hormones that physically make everything hopeless if we entertain negative thoughts). And he had obviously been entertaining them.
It’s been good, though, we needed some course correction. It’s not resolved yet, but I’m hopeful. I do take him for granted. Not really, because I think about it all the time. But I don’t do much about it. I love being taken care of. This has been one of the best, if not the best, time of my life. However, though it has allowed me to flourish, he is closing in–by choice.
He has always thought he was an extrovert, and has been in positions that required extroversion, but now has come to the truth that he was always forcing it, and wants to be who he truly is. I applaud that. I have an introverted side, but please don’t become a recluse. You can still have fulfilling relationships.
So now I have to look at me. He doesn’t think I will change. Will I? Can I? That does frighten me a little. Do I know how? What does he want? Who is he really? He says I haven’t tried to know. I say he doesn’t share, doesn’t talk. He says I don’t listen or remember. I’m sure it’s both and…
Risking vulnerable loving is scary. Fear of that is, no doubt, how we got together: as my friend used to say, “The rocks in my head fit the holes in his.” It’s one of my favorite definitions of chemistry. And chemistry is the attraction that makes us fall in love. We had tons of that. But we also had the hard road of a blended family, and probably wouldn’t have survived except for his stroke ten years later.
I was ready to leave when God told me to sit tight, I had things to learn. So I did. And a year later he wanted a divorce. He had often said that, but this time he got the papers. I said to God, “I wanted to leave and You said no, and now You’re going to let him leave?”
God said, “Go on vacation, this is going to take a while.” Which I knew meant Don’t worry, and have fun, I’ve got this.
So I did. I didn’t leave, but lots of invitations came to me. It was a good month.
A month later we found out he’d had a stroke. No, God didn’t cause it; He just let him have his way, by eating lots and lots of bacon every morning when I was in class, on our “working” vacation in Cape Cod two months before. And then probably lots of sugar while we weren’t talking for a month. His diabetes caused the stroke. But God is so good He had it happen in just the right place, just the right amount that it turned him and our marriage around.
(to be continued next week)