Musings from the Gilly Pad

Friday, November 26, 2010

: Texas, history, and a frat boy


I'm sitting beside him, and only because of seat belt laws and the huge suburban console, I resist the urge to sit right underneath his right arm. Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about. A Mississippi gal knows how to cuddle up right next to her man while cruisin'. Anyway, being in Texas transports me back to the beginning of "us". It sends my heart to that young love state...you know, like when you were young, and in love, and you had that feeling that you only had only when you were really young and only newly in love, and had nothing else to do but be young and in love. It never fails that while in Texas with Chad's family, I'm reminded of when we started dating. We were at The University of Mississippi and the trip from Oxford, MS to Cleburne,TX was about 8 hours. We either had plenty to talk about or were comfortable in silence. Comfortable silence. Now that is hard to find.

I heard someone explain that something happens when you get married; your value is either doubled or halved. This I believe to be true. I know without a doubt my value has been doubled! I married Chad not only because he was the greatest guy I dated, but he made me want to be a better person. We were young when we got married, compared to today's standards.
I was 24, Chad was 23. I feel like we've grown up together. We are not the same people I see in our wedding picture. I mean, we are and we're not. We're both pretty independent, but now we function more as a "we" than an "I". Our views on so many things have changed, and thankfully have traveled in the same direction. Of course there are issues on which we agree to disagree, but that keeps things interesting.

There is something mysterious about the rugged Texas landscape. My husband sets free his inner Texan the moment we drive along the more barren part of the state, closer to his mom and dad's home. There is no denying that a sunset in Texas is breathtaking. The composition that my eyes behold resonates with me in a spiritual way. With Robert Earl Keen, John Prine, and Nancy Griffith tunes on our playlist, all my senses are heightened, yet completely satisfied. It's then that I get a glimpse of my ruggedly good-looking husband and something inside me does that twisty turning thing that you know exists but could never explain...and rarely admit. I remember falling in love with this guy! He still makes my heart jump!

I think it's good to be reminded of the things that made us fall in love. It's a good thing to remember what life was like before we created those little beings that share our DNA. It's also important to remember that in spite of some really ugly stuff, we still love each other. He saw me give birth to our children. Let's be honest. When seen as a life-giving event, yes, it's a beautiful thing. The actual, real-life, real-time, real-people, real deal is sort of bloody and slimy and usually involves very colorful language...and yet he's hung in here with me. We all tend to suffer from a "grass is greener" mentality. The advice I have given a lady friend of mine is this, "I know you think the grass is greener, but you know what's still on the other side? A MAN...one who hasn't loved you through sleepless nights and diaper duty, one who doesn't already know you don't like tomatoes on your burger or how you take your coffee, and he sure isn't the guy who loved you in spite of that big hair you had 20 years ago." And I'd tell a guy the same thing. There will still be a woman with hormones, who doesn't already know your insecurities, wasn't with you through business failures and successes, doesn't know how you take your coffee, or knows that look that reassures you that although left to yourself you'd be an outright pig, she's your biggest cheerleader.

I don't ever want to forget that I share history with this man I choose to spend my life with.
I think it's important to give history it's due, and appreciate all the little things that got my attention in the first place. Our shared history is what makes us, "us". So while we're
in Texas, between our moments of utter impatience and just plain annoyance, I'll cherish those little glimpses of that frat boy who rocked my world.

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