I am a martyr, I know it, I will admit it. I have this constant, "woe is me" attitude, that no matter how hard I try, this conscious thought pervades. It is the hare looking back at the tortoise, taunting the person that I want to be. Except for the tortoise wins in the fable, my tortoise seldom wins, but when he does, there is victory dancing to be done.
This very morning, as I awoke to my husband's painful coughing, and laboured breathing, my thoughts were on myself, and how I really "needed" to sleep in. Of course, his illness was ruining my plan. I could go on, with more twisted stories of my selfishness, but, really, would that do any of us any good?
So, that brings me to my Christmas present to my sweet husband....you may not think that much thought went into this gift. Would O. Henry have written a story about the deep love and sacrifice that went into this gift? Maybe, if he knew my heart.
Being the mother of four small children, I have to admit that I am guilty of not giving my man the attention that he deserves. I have to confess that I often don't even think that he deserves it. Can't he see how hard I am working and how exhausted I am? Once again, that martyr surfacing, down with you! So, before I can allow my inner self to take control, I force myself to dwell on one of the most precious things in my life, my marriage.
This past year, we have received news from several of our friends that their marriages were crumbling. The pain, the devastation, the loneliness, were so apparent. What if that were me, what if it could be me? What if when my children are grown, and leave home, and they will, what if I look across the table, and realize I no longer know the man sitting across from me? As a result of all of these dreadful thoughts, I realized that I love this man, and want to spend as much time with him as possible.
My gift, drumroll please...is 52 dates, one date for every week in 2011. A selfish gift, you may think, yes, maybe. Our dates in recent years have been great, me talking a hundred miles a minute about anything and everything. This year, I hope to listen, listen to his thoughts, his plans, his dreams.
Our first date was on January 1, 2011. We went to the Olive Garden, and ate lunch. I have to admit, I think I did most of the talking, but, hey, I have 51 more to work on that.
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