Engagement Series 1/3: How Can I Love You? Engagement Series 2/3: The Return of the Ring Engagement Series 3/3: Sponge Bathing, with love
6 Months after Proposal, duffle bag on the floor
Me: I’m sorry. You know I love you, right?
Stacey (wiping tears): It doesn’t feel like it.
Me: Now’s not the best time. I can’t deal with my joint custody situation. I feel like you moving in is the proverbial straw.
Stacey: But I take care of myself.
Me: I know. It doesn’t make sense. And it’s bad timing.
Stacey: Yea, it’s Christmas in 3 days.
Me (hopeful and ashamed): You are still invited over for presents…
Stacey: Yea, I know.
Stacey picked up her duffle bag, her dog, and left.
2 months after kick-out
Me: Stacey, I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do for you?
Stacey: Actually, yes, some ice, maybe? (she moved her arm) *****!*@*#*$%!!
Me: Do you want to go to the ER? Can you lift your arm?
Stacey: No. I think I’ll be fine tomorrow. (sheepishly) Can I stay over?
Me: Absolutely. Whatever you need, sweetheart.
2 months after injury, duffle bag back on the floor
Me: I’m sorry about your apartment, sweetie.
Stacey: Me, too. It just sucks I can’t file for worker’s comp. Or go back to FedEx. I spent my savings on those stupid shoulder scans.
Me: I guess you’re officially stuck with us! Hey, I’ve gotten really good at giving you sponge baths! Most couples don’t get that pleasure until they’re wrinkly!
Stacey (small smile): Thanks, sweetheart. But, aren’t you gonna hate me, now? Like before?
Okay, I think the H*** word is a little much. I was totally overwhelmed when she first moved in. It doesn’t help that it was around Christmas: my arch nemesis! Honestly, when did Christmas turn into The Most exhausting-jealousy-making-stay-up-all-night-to-make -a-300-page-scrapbook-count-the-presents-donate-socks-diapers-green-beans-want-to-die-when-you-mess-up-the-frosting-on-Santa-cookies-capitalist-mind-control-stay-at-home-mom-living Nightmare? grrr…
Oh, sorry, back to Stacey: she’s been living here since: injury. And it’s been actually good! I get my Saturdays for reflection, coloring, poems, and crying. I am making space for me.
Me: I didn’t hate you, sweetie. I just couldn’t speak up for my needs, and I would try to take care of you like with Mark and the kids. And then I’d get resentful at you for not reciprocating. Which is unfair.
2 months later
A soft spring Saturday surrounded us. We looked up. The sky was light-blue alive. Closer overhead, blooming cherry blossoms. Stacey and I sat tete-a-tete on a semicircular concrete bench with a greek-style lamp post in the middle. Called the Eternal Flame.
Okay, Heidi. Last check before this ship sails. You ready?
When is anyone ready for anything? If I waited for my kids to do what I asked them the first time, I’d turn into a pumpkin! If I waited for my relationship with my ex to get less-contentious, I’d be dead.
Me (taking her hands): I wanted to bring you here to thank you. The kids and I are so thankful for you. You’ve taught us to play – like hide and seek and chasing Elvis around the kitchen table. Honestly, I just thought play meant sanitizing and rotating the kids’ toys. And I have never felt as connected with anyone as when I hear you sing. You see me, and I see you. And, I am grateful that you accept me as the hot mess that I am. And you don’t care that I shave my toe knuckles or sleep with a teddy bear….
Stacey, I love you more and more each day. Sooo, I know it’s been a year, but, is, by chance, your marriage offer still on the table?
POEM: You and I
Laughing,
you and I share light.
Loving,
you and I share harmony.
Leaving,
you and I share independence.
Listening,
you and I share understanding.
Birthing,
you and I share motherhood.
Breaking,
you and I share sorrow.
Breathing,
you and I share separateness.
Blessing,
you and I share life.
The SoulJourner QUESTion
Stacey waited a year for my answer. If it wasn’t for her shoulder injury, (a little nudge from God, perhaps?) I don’t know when/if I would have invited her back. From realizing I had no boundaries, I went to rigid boundaries. I now view myself as a Boundary House. I don’t want to have holes in my walls. I don’t want to be all bricked-in from the sun, either. I want to have doors and windows that I can open and close as I need. To take care of myself. To invite the fresh air in.
PROMPTS
Serious: Is there something in your life you battle back and forth with yourself about having or doing? Is there a middle solution where you can still honor your needs? Be the house with doors and windows? (Like, now, it’s kids and pandemic-screen time: I just want to flush the screens down!)
Fun: What does your Boundary House look like? Does it have a tall gate? Sheep in the front yard? A porch swing? What can you visualize to put in it and around it to take care of yourself?
