Let Me Tell You

Okay...

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I am going to tell you a secret. It may be the first time you have heard this...

Being married is hard. Like crazy hard.

DISCLAIMER- As I write this right now I am afraid that I will sound judgmental. That is not my intention at all. I do not mean to sound like a know it all either. 

What made me think of this is a person that I know. I was at her wedding. I remember it very well. I do not know what made me think of this. She is divorced now. I remember thinking I was at your wedding... you promised until death do you part. I wondered what happened. What was the final straw? Did he leave the toilet seat up one too many times? Did she forget to turn the shower head off? 

For some reason I have been noticing memes lately that have to do with love and marriage and how to know if he is the one!

I have been married 21 years. You can not put 21 years of marriage in a meme. You can not describe it with a single quote. Every good Southern girl can quote those lines from Sweet Home Alabama -Young Melanie: Why would you want to marry me for, anyhow? Young Jake: So I can kiss you anytime I want.  Isn't that sweet? (I'll give you time to think on it.....)

Love is more than someone bringing you roses everyday (coffee is a nice alternative though.) Love is more cooking whatever his or her favorite meal is. Love is more than your sweetie buying you the dog/cat/pig/turtle you want. Love isn't just the happy stuff. Love is the bad stuff too...when the lights go out because you forgot to pay the bill, when one of you hit the fourth deer with the same car in three years. Love is going fishing even though you hate it because you want to spend time together. Love is siting down and paying bills, love is washing the dishes, love is folding laundry. Love is putting the seat up or down depending on which bathroom you are in. Love is rubbing Vicks and Bengay.

Love is holding hands as a parent dies. Love is shedding tears when a long time dream dies. 

Love is face timing your partner when your song come on the radio so you can sing it together. Love is celebrating accomplishments of individually and as a couple. 

I know that you have your own definition of  love. Being married is all about finding someone you love and spending the rest of your life with them.

Marriage is more than just a wedding...marriage is what happens everyday after the wedding. Marriage is...marriage is...life.  

Not long after I married I asked a wise older lady who was celebrating her 50th anniversary if she every thought about killing her husband. Without thinking she said yes. I explained "No really if you could have killed him and gotten away with it would you?" "Yes!" I knew then that it would be okay.

This week alone I wanted to smack my honey because he wasn't listening to being over the moon when he sent me a picture of the kitchen table that he cleaned off. 

When you decide to spend the rest of your life with someone you are attempting to join two lives into one. There will be comprises. I don't like fishing because I can't stay quiet that long but hubby can go whenever he wants. I like taking landscape pictures so hubby drives me so I can take them. I read, he doesn't (he knows how he just isn't a reader) so I go to bookstores. I like sushi and he uses it for bait but he picks it up for me when he gets a chance. We learned that we don't have to do everything together. 

I do know who Hank Williams is and have "Kaw Ligia" in my ipod and I know his version is better than Charlie Pride's. I know there is a town named Saginaw Michigan and that there was a Carroll County accident that was probably caused by Big John. I know this because my hunny loves old county music and now I love it. He watches NCIS and Big Bang Theory. He understands my love for Matthew McConaughey.

Our marriage is in no way perfect. Everyday (7,917) for the past 21 years we have decided that we will stick it out one more day. We will defend one another to death. We are a team, we are partners. We are we. When you see us at any given point we may like each other or can't stand each other but there is no doubt that we are there for each other.

Why I Love Downton Abbey

I really truly love Downton Abbey. I can give you the technical stuff- the writing is excellent, the actors, the location, All of it feels very true to life.  Dame Maggie Smith plays the matriarch of the family and the best lines are reserved for her.
The family is taken care of by servants, Who hasn't dreamed about someone fixing their hair everyday?

The huge house. Really who needs that much space? I would like to find out.

Twenty-five years or so ago I went to the Biltmore Estate in Asheville North Carolina. Then as a teenager I could not fathom a life that was lived in that house. I couldn't picture kids screaming and running amuck. I couldn't see a family gathered in the kitchen eating dinner. I loved that house. That is the frame of reference that I have for Downton Abbey. 

I love the characters on Downton. I have become involved in their lives. I cheer when they get married and cry when they are hurt. I want those who harm the family to receive their comeuppance.

All of these are legitimate reasons why I love Downton.

My favorite reason is that I watch it with my brother. He is several states and hundreds of miles away but I know that he is watching. I watch because I know that he watching the exact same thing as me,

My brother is seven years older than me..almost to the day, our birthdays are two days apart. He left for college the year I started seventh grade. I was a horrible child. I was the youngest and I have been told I was spoiled and always got my way. (I do not believe that in the least.) As we got older we grew apart. He married and did great things. I stumbled around for a while. I was self-centered and often rude and mean. He loved me anyway. I got married and learned that the world did not indeed revolve around me. (I was greatly disappointed.)

Seven or eight years ago a series of events caused me to have a crisis of faith. I questioned everything I had grown up knowing. I had been hurt deeply by a person in my church. I wasn't sure that I even wanted to go back to church. I did not know where to turn or who to talk to. After many weeks of struggle I called my brother. And he listened. For over an hour he listened to me cry and question. He did it all without judgement. He did not tell me to just pray about it and it would get better. He told me it was okay to question. He told me I did not have to agree with everything the preacher said. He told me I was going to be okay. That was a turning point I believe for us. I think had it not been for him I would have fallen apart during that time.

I have learned to depend on this great, godly, wonderful man that my brother had become. he has taught me to be non-judgmental. God loves everyone, regardless of color, shape or size. I have seen him travel to foreign countries so people can feel the love of Christ. I have seen him love his wife for over 30 years. I have watched him raise a red headed little boy into a red headed man with the same love for people that his father has. When our mom was sick he came for a week so our siblings who lived in the same town as the hospital could have a break. When Mom died he was there again.

When I graduated college he came. I would have understood if he had not. He had been back here four times in the past year and that was hard on him. He gave up his birthday so he could be with me.

It was hard for him growing up being the oldest of four. Towing his little sister with him to friends houses, sharing birthday parties with a girl seven years younger than him. Knowing two other siblings depended on him. He persevered, (Maybe I am part of the reason he is a great person? Hmmm.)

Growing up I hear more than once that I needed to be more like my brother. Now as an adult that would be the best compliment that a person could give me, that I was like my brother.

My Journey

You probably want to know something about me. To begin with I am not all that special. If you saw me on the street you would pass me up and not think anything about it. I am no different than you are. I struggle with getting up in the morning and I think that coffee is a miracle food. There is no such thing as too much sweet tea. The carhops at Sonic know my name, my order and what time I come in. The owner of the local Mexican restaurant gives me a hard time when he sees me at Wal-Mart and knows I am lying when I tell him that I am going to start going to Taco Bell. I have been married 21 years (OMG!) which is a big deal but it is hard and I am still trying to figure it out. There are days when I don't get dressed. There can be several days in a row when I don't get dressed. I read People magazine faithfully. I have read the Harry Potter Series at least four times and am halfway through them again. I play on my iPad too often and check Facebook often because I want to see if that relationship with the two people who are soul-mates and best friends even though they met last week has imploded yet. I wear a FitBit because I like the idea of working out but not the physical act of working out. It does tell me if I reached my goal of sleeping eight hours a night though.

See I am no different than you. I am walking the same road that you are. My feet have been  tired and swollen and blistered. There were times when I wasn't sure I could make it another step. I have cried out at the top of my lungs "WHY? WHY ME?." I have gathered up the broken pieces and glued and taped and stapled them back together. To look at me I am nothing special. 

Except for I am.

I am the daughter of a King.

I am loved.

I am me.

There are many things that I could tell you about that you might be able to relate to. I want to tell you about one particular thing that has happened in the last year.

My mom died. She is dead. I know that sounds harsh but it is the truth. I do not like it when someone has passed (What did they pass? Where did they pass?) or when someone is lost. (We lost Uncle Joe this morning. Have you looked for him? Did you notify the police?) 

I was in my last semester of college. I was getting ready to intern. My mom went in the hospital three days before the semester started. She died three days before I was to start my internship. She was in the hospital close to 30 days.

We had our share of problems. I think it was because I am like her. She was my mom and I loved her. I was able to  spend a great deal of time with her in the hospital. She had some really good days and some really bad days. I usually had a good day then a bad day. I know she loved me and I know that she was proud of me because she told me so. We laughed and we cried. We talked about growing up. 

During that time I learned how strong I was. I stood with my brothers and sister and told her that it was okay to let go. I help plan her funeral. I wrote her obituary. I picked up the clothes she would be buried in from her house, I found my voice and was able to express it. My siblings saw me in a new light. 

It was during this time when I realized that some things are worth fighting for. (Yes, Mom wanted Abba songs at her funeral. We will play Abba!) Some things are not worth fighting for. (It doesn't matter when visitation is.) Some things we can laugh at (The pink casket will clash with her blue dress.)  Some things just are. (No, she didn't want church songs but that one is okay.)

I learned that I could depend on friends that would make me laugh no matter what. I learned that college professors are much more understanding than anyone ever said. I have not yet learned what to say when someone tells me they are sorry that she died other then thank you.

Most importantly I have learned that sometimes you just need to listen. I listened to my mom tell stories while she was in the hospital. I listened to my family as they told tales about my mom. I listened to her friends. I listened to people tell me things about my mom. I like to talk. I love to tell stories. I have a story for almost every occasion but sometimes you just need to listen.  I learned to be quiet. 

I learned to listen not just to others but being quiet I have been able to hear the still small voice.

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This is one of my favorite passages in the Bible.

1 Kings 19:11-13The Message (MSG)

11-12 Then he was told, “Go, stand on the mountain at attention before God. God will pass by.”

A hurricane wind ripped through the mountains and shattered the rocks before God, but God wasn’t to be found in the wind; after the wind an earthquake, but God wasn’t in the earthquake; and after the earthquake fire, but God wasn’t in the fire; and after the fire a gentle and quiet whisper.

13 When Elijah heard the quiet voice, he muffled his face with his great cloak, went to the mouth of the cave, and stood there. A quiet voice asked, “So Elijah, now tell me, what are you doing here?”