Husband gave me a gift today. I am not sure he even realized when it happened. There was no exchange of goods, no affectionate touches, no opening of the wallet.
He has provided for me to have Time. Last summer, getting Fired from my job at the daycare center almost sent me off the cliff. There is history in my blood relatives of mental illness, nervous breakdowns, obsessive habits. I am one of the first females to make it to this age and have reason to go through normal(?) menopause.
Some days it seems I am kicking and flailing just to appear average.
Sessions with a therapist are helpful.
Even more so is the loving support of my guys. Telling jokes and stories about daily happenings, cleaning their own hair out of the bathroom sink, and consulting with my 14th draft of Paper 2 goes a long, long way for my sanity.
Yet we must come back around to Time. The freedom to fill my schedule wherever my inclinations lean. I got a phone call on Monday from the lady who is in charge of doing funeral dinners at our church. She asked if I could bring a salad, help serve, then stay and do clean-up. I was able to say Yes to everything for the service coming Wednesday morning.
The reason is because I do not have a paycheck job and my class at HCC was done at 9am.
We worked well together in the kitchen. Having known each other for years, these church folks, at one time or another we find ourselves doing the same tasks.
When one of my sons asked me why I still go to church when the guys do not, my answer is that I like the interactions with people of many ages. Being helpful, having a purpose. For me, church is not necessarily about the preaching and Bible quotes. It is more about social contacts in a pleasant setting. Hearing many voices singing words I can actually understand. In my youth, hanging out at the bar or going shopping were not very productive pastimes.
Although a funeral is a real downer, providing the family with fine food and a grief outlet is a way for me to feel useful.
Husband works hard for his job at the university. His income is adequate to keep the gas company rep, holding a wrench, from knocking on the door. The attitude of doing what he believes to be his duties with love is very much appreciated.
Thank You, Mister DOF….
~~love and Huggs, Diane