An ode to my hubbie

(Ode - according to en.wiktionary.org: A short poetical composition proper to be set to music or sung; a lyric poem; esp., now, a poem characterized by sustained noble sentiment and appropriate dignity of style.

So apart from the sentiment this isn't really an ode at all. Oh well. )

Yesterday I watched my weekly fix of Grey’s Anatomy and House. Both shows referred to Thanks Giving. Now, here in SA we don’t celebrate a specific Thanks Giving day, but as we are approaching Easter, I figure today is as good a day as any to count my blessings. And as so many times before there is one “thing” that often comes to the foreground.

Hubbie.

Hubbie and I have been married for about six and a half years. And looking back over this time, it confirms we have a good life together. Both of us have grown over the years, for the better I believe. We have grown together, grown closer.

There is a problem though.

I can’t tell him about anything that I want, coz he will make a plan to get it for me.

Okay, so it’s not a “bad” problem that I have, but it’s a problem none the less. I am almost afraid to show interest in anything, because low and behold, the next Christmas or birthday or time I burst out in tears coz I dropped an expensive glass whatever, Hubbie shows up with XYZ I mentioned some time ago to make me feel better.

It reminds me of the song “Hey Leonardo (She Likes Me For Me)” by Blessid Union Of Souls

And she don't care that I can fly her
To places she ain't never been
But if she really wants to go
I think deep down she knows that
All she has to say is when

I don’t even have to say “when”.

This does not mean it has to be extravagant (though it can be).

Like the time I was both sad and happy that I managed not to binge eat while feeling depressed. I was feeling happy because I kept my greedy jaws shut. I was sad because I didn’t experience that moment of joy that comfort eating brings during my bouts of depression. So hubbie came home with diabetic chocolate, so that I could still pretend to have a choccie binge.

This of course was such a beautiful gesture that I ended up crying even more.

Yes, yes, I know – pathetic. (But hubbie loves me anyway.)

When I tell him about the guilt I feel from all I receive from him, he just laughs and tries his best to convince me that I bring plenty to the table. I say ‘tries”, because I’m not easily convinced. I know it’s not a one-way relationship, but I am also a self-deprecating kind of person and struggle to accept a compliment. (I am working on this and getting better.)

So, to get to the moral of the story…

I love my husband and am extremely blessed to have him in my life. I am a better person when he’s around. So instead of feeling bad and guilty and “sorry-that-I-live” when he gives me a gift, I will rather try to accept it with grace, because he believes I’m worth it. And if he believes it, I must be (she tells herself with forced confidence).

But just to be certain he knows how much he means to me, I’ll also do my best to learn to play bass guitar well (Christmas present) as well as get at least good enough to not kill myself when I skateboard (birthday present.)


(To Hubbie: I <3 you)