I gave up parts of myself in the failed attempt at marriage, thinking it required, a compromise. I learned the error of this idea. Love doesn't expect amputation.
The subtle confusion of this is that in any shared life, old interests and activities do fall away. I once hiked the canyons, long all-day treks that pushed my physical limits and gave me a bodily courage I'd not had before. Now, I do not, and I do miss the aroma of campfire, sleeping beneath stars. I do not miss the aches, the cold and blisters. And I remember staying alone outside the tent watching the Perseids speck the black sky above the Badlands, while that ex retired beneath the tarp.
I don't dance as much as I would have liked, but that is in part because there is not a good folk dance group I can get to here. Nor a group that just wants to bellydance together for fun. I've had my time to waltz and foxtrot, including teaching it for a living.
I doubt I will travel as much as I dreamed, though I have lived in a few places. But, how could I leave Moby long enough to wander the world? If there is no spare cash for Istanbul, there would never have been had I struggled on alone, either. Much of what I will not do is as much my accumulation of injuries and aches, not marriage.
In return, I have company, a ready listener to my singing, daily belly laughs, cold feet to warm on cold nights, gratitude. Instead of a husband who will only believe what I say if he hears it from another source - then tells me in amazement what I'd told him, well. D believes me, listens to me, values my expertise as I treasure his.
The nurses were glad to be able to let me into the recovery room after surgery, because he calmed and immediately followed my instructions. He also repeated "I love you" interspersed with "I just want to wake up" and "How'd it go?"
I will trade a dance and a hike for affection and high regard, though never asked for it. Life is a deal. I got a sweet one.
Moby spotted a fly, and cornered it in the lampshade. Took him a while, but he got it.
8 comments:
So it goes. I feel just the same about leaving Mol to go travelling, she's not here long enough to spend time away from her.
Did you really teach old-time dancing?
My mum used to say cats get worms from eating flies.
Hope D's recovery continues well.
(o)
Bless you both -- thinking of you.
funny I was just thinking of all the places I'll never go - prompted by reading a book partly set in Venice (The Passion by Jeanette Winterson)and the fact my friend K is headed there this year. I expect to travel to Greece again and Belgium and France. But I can't contemplate too many more flights in this lifetime. I believe they should be officially rationed by now... I feel ok I won't see India.
I adore your first paragraph. I lived it. So true! Thank you.
In the past my cat has enjoyed warming his nose by looking up into lampshades. I assumed Moby was doing the same.
Lucy, I taught at Arthur Murrays, got fired because I wouldn't do the hard-sell on the overpriced lesson packages. Did pretty well teaching foxtrot and mambo 'n such.
Dale, we are healing, thank you.
tg, I get the guilts about adding a huge carbon stomp for the sake of a vacation, too. Not a deal breaker, but a factor.
~qb, I'm sorry you had that, I wouldn't wish it on anyone.
Pacian, I expect the warm nose was an added benefit. I saw the fly,too. He batted at it for a good ten minutes. He has been known to catch and eat bugs before.
Keeping you and D and Moby in my thoughts as D heals. You are such good loving company for each other.
(o) (o) (o)
one each, that is.
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