A story… Continue reading →
Posts Tagged: marriage
Have you ever stood outside waiting for the 4th of July Fireworks to start while swatting mosquitoes and listening to the bats as they whiz by your head? The first chrysanthemum explodes and your kid says, “Mom, how will I know when it’s the grand finale?” Continue reading →
Do we forgive our fathers for leaving us too often, or forever, when we were little?
Maybe for scaring us with unexpected rage, or making us nervous, because there never seemed to be any rage there at all.
Do we forgive our fathers for marrying, or not marrying our mothers, for divorcing, or not divorcing our mothers?
And shall we forgive them for their excesses of warmth or coldness?
Shall we forgive them for pushing or leaning, for shutting doors, for speaking through walls, or never speaking, or never being silent?
Do we forgive our fathers in our age or in theirs? Or in their deaths, saying it to them, or not saying it?
If we forgive our fathers what is left?- Thomas Builds-the-Fire
from the movie, Smoke Signals
Guest Post by Jenn
I never knew anything about narcissism until I married into a family with three narcissists. It was years before I made this discovery, and in those early years, I felt like I was losing my mind. The particular family I had married into managed to turn narcissism into a generational art, and so every single member of this family (including the one I married) thought that type of behavior was normal. (Quick note: my husband is not a narcissist. He has his own issues, but narcissism isn’t one of them.) And because I didn’t agree with it, fought against it, and generally rattled the glass on their pristine cage… well, let’s just say it didn’t really end well. Continue reading →
She was too exhausted to untie the bundle. He stood next to her and excitedly pulled at the bow that was wrapped tightly around the four corners of the blanket. His hands were shaking. He fumbled a bit, but the blanket fell open to reveal the most precious gift. He gently placed the baby in her arms. They didn’t notice the green organza bag that fell out of the blanket to the floor. Continue reading →
She had hoped he’d walk into the kitchen, smell the Spritz Cookies baking in the oven, warmly greet the kids, and come up behind to wrap her in his arms and whisper, “Merry Christmas, honey.” Instead, he walked in, grabbed the vacuum and started bumping into their toes as he cleaned up flour dust and cookie sprinkles. “Daddy, aren’t the cookies pretty?” He took a few more swipes with the vacuum and said, “Yes, honey, now let’s start cleaning up this mess.” Continue reading →
“I can’t believe we haven’t really talked since before we were both married.” Continue reading →
She heard: Your face looks fat; I hate your haircut.
She said: That looks pretty good, but you should have done it this way.
He heard: That looks pretty good, BUT …
They said: Are you sure it’s a good idea to homeschool the kids?
She heard: You’re going to ruin them for life.
He said: I can’t live like this anymore.
She heard: Do things my way or I’m out of here.
He said: I don’t care what we do, you decide.
She heard: I don’t enjoy spending time with you enough to make the effort to decide.
She said: I don’t care what we do, you decide.
He heard: It’s okay if you spend the evening with friends; I won’t be mad if you don’t come home.
He said: That’s okay, bud, I’ll have the shop wax my skis.
He heard: You aren’t capable of waxing my skis.
He said: Maybe you shouldn’t be so sensitive.
She heard: If you didn’t get your feelings hurt so easily, I wouldn’t have to be careful about what I say.
They said: You should write blog posts that are this long, on this many days with these kinds of headings.
She heard: You are doing it all wrong.
He said: I like it better when you do it this way.
She heard: I don’t like you the way you are.
She said: I heard you, but we are doing it my way.
He heard: Don’t bother telling me what you want because I’m not listening anyway.
She said: Pack your bags, we’re going to stay at grandma’s.
They heard: We are going to live with people who let us be who we are.
They said: Love you.
She heard: Love you.