Saturday, February 13, 2010

A real story.



Any married couple can tell you about these moments. You're both soaring through clouds of romance, a dizzy spell of lust and love and obsession. You live moment to moment for phone calls and hand holding and make-out sessions in the back of a car. The smell. The intoxicating bliss of touch. You've read about this in fairy-tales, in magazine articles. This is where it's at, and oh boy, you are feeling it! It's all so very wonderful. And necessary. Why?

Because you need to be insane enough to marry each other, that's why.

Ok, I'm being a little facetious. Our previous questionaire was, without question, honest. We are an unbelievably blessed, happily married set of people. But we are real. No question about it. I've had my moments the same as any other woman: moments of passion and fascination with my man. Moments of unadulterated contentment and happily-ever-after.
But... I also have a husband who farts under the covers, who has pretended to not know how to make his own sandwich for lunch, and has, in the most supreme example of 'Oh my gosh, I've married a fifteen year-old', once declared - after we had both put our retainers in and were ready to hit the pillow - "Hey, we shthould have retainer thsex."
This husband also has a wife who can hold her own in the childish department. A girl who could justifiably be described as well-mannered and polite...as long as everything is going her way. A girl who looks more like an English bulldog when she wakes up, with the breath to match. Her words can bite, and she's displayed more than her fair share of control-freak. Yep, so very real.

And once you've crossed into this reality, it reaaally gets good.

The threshold of authenticity can be signified by a moment like this when, as my mother once described, she said she was sitting in church one Sunday, on the opposite side of the pew from my father, separated by their eight children sitting in between (yes, we took up the entire row). She says she looked at him and thought, "Who is this guy? How did all of this happen?....I didn't even know him....he wasn't even a member of my family! I can't stomach sharing a soda can with anyone else, and just look at all I've shared with him!"

This wasn't a moment of regret or dismay, but a moment of startling. clear. reality. This is a real person you've joined with. No fairy godmother, no white horses, no easily charted course to perfection. And yet it is a story. A remarkable story. An interesting story. An entirely unique story. You look down and, suddenly, recognize the authors' hands, the hands controlling the pen.

It was you all along.... and that strange guy, sitting eight kids away.

1 comment:

JAMIE_DALLAS said...

I LOVE your writing Rae. It makes me want to print up all your posts so I don't forget all of your great stories. Especially ones like this, that are so honest and make everyone really THINK!