Sunday, June 19, 2011

A Year And A Day

This Tuesday will be our first anniversary.  We laugh and say that we can't believe we've made it through a year without medication.  We joke and say that we still have a few days left to kill each other.  We smile and tease each other about how we met, and whose "fault" it is.

After my divorce from my first husband, I swore that I would never do that again.  Commitment was too much for me, and too hard to get out of, once it's done.  When we met, we were just going to be friends.  Once we got over that idea, we were just going to be a fling.  He was going to be deploying to Iraq, and I sure wasn't going to be tied down to someone that I couldn't see for a year, when we had only been together for a few months.  By the time he actually left, I was telling myself that he wanted me just so that he could say he had someone waiting for him to come home, and I was with him just so that I could decline any offers, since I was already involved with someone.  A year after that, I moved up near Ft. Drum to live with him.  Actually, I moved up here to prepare a home for him to come home to.  But, it was still just a temporary thing, right?  Right.  Then he got in that car accident, and the Army was going to be looking at putting him out.  It was suggested that we might get married so that we would all be covered by his health benefits and such, even after he was out.  We both sort of hemmed and hawed for a while, and finally decided to do it.  Sure, we can do that.  It's practical and beneficial, for financial reasons.  Certainly not because we were really, you know the word.  It was the smart choice, not the silly, foolish emotionally based one.  Humph.

So, on June 21, 2010, the Summer Solstice, we were married.  It was a casual thing.  And by casual, I mean that the retired judge who performed the ceremony for us was wearing a mumu and slippers.  Ken wore jeans.  My best friend was my witness, and he wore jeans, as well.  Ken's witness, the father of our future Guide Daughter, wore a stunningly stylish white suit.  His wife, Nadia, was just a month and a half away from having the baby, and she was in charge of the pictures.  My sons were there, apparently as the peanut gallery and comedy relief.  It was hilarious and fun...and perfect.

And now it's been a year.  Not an easy year, I promise you that.  We've already been through just about the worst we could possibly go through.  We've had the quick bursts of not-so-happiness, like my breast cancer scare, his mother's stroke.  We've had the longer, more drawn out issues.  Don't even get me started on his brother and that house in Texas.  Ugh!  That one nearly cost us the marriage a few times.  We've had fights.  I've handed him my ring a few times.  He even left the house to go sleep somewhere else, once.

I wouldn't trade a moment of it.  Not for all the world.  Somewhere along the lines, I discovered that I do, in fact...  Well, I...I...  *le sigh*  Okay, you win.  I love him...and Oreo Double Stuff (You'll have to ask him, if you want an explaination for that one.  ;) ).  He has given me the freedom to fly, but he hasn't been afraid to shoot me back down to the ground when I got too close to the Sun.  He has made me angry beyond words, but he has taught me not to hold a grudge for days at a time.  He makes me laugh, sometimes just because he's laughing at something.

You know, when we first decided to sign our lives away to each other, we wanted a Handfasting.  Of course, that just wasn't possible.  We couldn't find anyone in the area who could do that for us, and still have it be a legal marriage.  So, we had the simple, outdoor, still-sorta-Christian wedding.  On Tuesday, we will have been married for one year.  I think, on Wednesday, I'll pledge to him another year and a day.

Until we meet again,

Friday, June 10, 2011

I Don't Believe You

A very good friend recently told me that fairy tales don't exist.
I wept. My heart broke.
When I was a little girl, my father told me that I was a Princess.
Someday, he said, a Prince would come on a white horse, and he would
love me forever, and make all of my dreams come true.
My father has been gone, now, for many years.
How well he knew me, for I am like him.
I see. I dream. I reach for things that may not be there.
There was no Prince.
No white horse ever came.
I knew it never would.
But, if only in my father's eyes, I was a Princess.
Wherever he is now, I know that I am still his Princess.
A very good friend recently told me that fairy tales don't exist.
I don't believe him.

Thursday, June 9, 2011


A HUGE congratulations to Mrs. B. and the other Pagan moms who placed in the "Top 25 Faith Blogs By Moms."  You earned it!  You deserved it!  And, to top it all off, you managed to turn the ugliness that was surrounding it all into a chance for Pagans to come together, support one another, and maybe even make a few friends.

Wonderful blogs.  Great information, ideas, and stories.  I highly recommend them all to everyone.

Until we meet again,

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

Perfect Imperfection

Sometimes, I let my desk get cluttered.  Sometimes, my favorite cookbook is the Yellow Pages.  Sometimes, I get fussy over small things.  Why?  Because I am perfect.  And so are you.

Most of us spend our lives trying to attain perfection.  We fault ourselves for our flaws, and we hold grudges against ourselves for our failures.  I often find myself thinking about what I *should* have or *could* have done.  I have a lot of "what if"s in my head.  I often doubt or second guess my own choices and actions.  I've been told that I'm an insufferable perfectionist about a lot of things.  It has even been suggested that there might be some OCD in a lot of what I do.  I'd be willing to bet that there are quite a few of you, out there, who find the same things in yourselves.  In fact, I think that many of us are even harder on ourselves than we are on people whom we dislike or whom we feel have wronged us.

I invite you, now, to step outside and take a look around you.  Do you see a perfect blade of grass?  Do you see an imperfect tree?  How many things do you see that are both?  Things that are made so much more perfect, simply *because* of their imperfections?  I am reminded of a tree that I drive by quite often.  I call it (Him?) "Axle, The Grumpy Tree."  Named after a friend of mine, whom I often refer to as "Grumpy Bear."  The man is as gruff as they come, and often has a look about him that could scare the blue from the sky.  But, once you get to know him, he's actually very smart, very funny, and absolutely adorable.  The tree is damaged (by lightning, I think) and has only just a branch or two left that still grow leaves in the spring.  Even one of those branches fell a few weeks ago in a windy storm.  And yet, I find this tree to be one of the most interesting and wonderful trees that I have ever seen.  The Grumpy Tree is perfect, in my eyes.

Have you ever heard of a "Persian Flaw?"  Do you know what it is?  Persian rugs were once among the finest in the world.  So fine that the rugmakers began to fear that the Divine would become enraged or jealous of their craftsmanship.  After all, only the Divine is supposed to be perfect, right?  Well, *that's* a chat for another day, but you get the idea.  ;)  In any case, in order to keep things even, the rugmakers began to add a deliberate flaw into their weaving.  Something small.  Something you may not even notice, if you weren't looking for it.  But, it was enough, for the sake of humility and modesty.

There is nothing on this Earth that is not flawed or imperfect in some way.  And that is what makes it all so perfect.  As long as we learn lessons from our own mistakes, and the mistakes of others, then how can we truly be so unhappy that they exist?  If there were never any mistakes made, then we would never really need to learn new things, would we?  We would never have the opportunities or the chances to improve.

There can be no good without evil, and no evil without good.  There can be no beauty without ugliness, and no ugliness without beauty.  Opposites are what give us the ability to see both sides of a coin.  Why does my desk get so cluttered?  Because I am taking an online course to be able to get a great work-at-home job and improve my family and myself, so I spend a lot of time at my desk, studying and learning and making progress toward my goal.  Why did I order pizza instead of making a good, home-cooked meal?  Well, to be honest, my cooking stinks.  So, I call it taking pity on my husband and children when I order pizza.  ;)  Why do I get fussy over such small things?  Well, when I learn the whole truth on that one, I'll get back to you.  But, without those things that I so often see as my failures and my flaws, I would never be able to appreciate the things that I'm good at, and I would never be able to find ways to improve myself.

Look over your own life, and look deep and hard.  You are perfect, just like me, because we are both so imperfect.

Until we meet again,