Real world Valentines, or, “There’s something weird on the toilet”

My husband always remembers to buy me flowers.

I lead with this fact because I’m well aware that not all spouses are as:

  1. generous with their displays of affection, and
  2. organized with their time

as my not-quite-perfect-yet-perfect-for-me husband. In a world where partner-bashing could be a professional sport, I like to clear a space to express my inter-personal gratitude and all the ways that our relationship makes my life better.

Here’s hoping I’m half as well appreciated by him! I’m also quite definitely imperfect, after all.

But this isn’t going to be a post about my “perfect” husband’s grand romantic gestures for Valentine’s Day. Instead, I’m moved to write about the imperfect intersection of family life, daily reality, and romance. Odd bedfellows, indeed!

I’ve told my husband about a million times that he doesn’t have to battle the crowds of beleaguered husbands to buy day-of flowers for me on Valentine’s Day, Mother’s Day, or any other Day When Good Men Buy Gifts. I do emphatically! enjoy being acknowledged, but I’m quite happy to let dates slip by a day or two in order to avoid crowds and gross inconvenience for my partner or myself.

I’d rather eat in on a holiday to avoid dining elbow-to-elbow in a packed room at the “correct” time for celebration. Along the same lines, I’m happy to receive my flowers on another day.

And yet, DH—being a gentleman with old-fashioned manners—showed up last Friday with a large bouquet of red roses for me. Yes: his mother is suitably proud.

I was having a rough day as far as my ongoing health issues go, so I decided to forego a heavy crystal vase in favor of anything I could lift.

Dozen red roses in yellow ceramic pitcher on windowsillMy favorite vessel for cut flowers is actually a little dijon yellow ceramic pitcher. I thought the red roses looked quite fetching in it, and the arrangement matched my outfit, too.

DH’s largess, however, meant I still had quite an array of blooms left for which homes wanted finding. It crossed my mind that a bud vase next to my desk would be a nice reminder of how much I’m loved while I work on the bane of every first quarter of the new year, our income tax returns.

3 red roses in a short, tulip-shaped bus vase of purple glass

A slim glass vase held only a few more stems, though, so I wasn’t done re-homing flora.

In keeping with the lower-center-of-gravity-means-less-knocking-over-by-arthritic-hands philosophy of the day, I remembered my tiniest crystal vase. It’s good and heavy for its size, but also quite stable. I was having that kind of day. Arthritis makes me a klutz.

Half a dozen red roses in a small crystal vase

I placed the final half dozen or so roses and went about my business.

Valentine’s Day fell on a school day this year, and, eventually, my younger son arrived home. Upon entering the powder room after dropping his lunch box in the kitchen, he yelled,

Hey, there’s something weird on the toilet!”

Yes, dear readers, I’d placed the final little vase in one of the few uncluttered spaces in my maximalist home: atop the toilet tank lid in the guest bath.

I suppose “something weird on the toilet” is better than “something rotten in the state of Denmark,” at least as far as home decoration goes.

Small crystal vase of red roses atop white ceramic toilet tank

Here’s what Instagram stories rarely feature: we all live imperfect lives. Many families have messy homes. We certainly do. Yes, even on holidays.

Maybe especially on holidays!

Loving partnerships thrive in cluttered suburban McMansions, Korean banjiha, dilapidated farmhouses, and also I’d expect in zen-like modern interiors kept up by teams of professional cleaners as seen on tv.

Here’s the long view of my other vessels full of horticultural affection.

The kitchen sink is full of dirty dishes, but our hearts are full of love!

I fussed for about five seconds trying to take a “pretty” picture of my Valentine flowers, but if I’d had the energy to get the dishes done and work on the taxes, it already would have happened.

It’s easy for me to get caught up in foolish self-inflicted punishments.

  • I can’t buy that bouquet today because they will look dumb on my cluttered dining table.
  • There’s no point replacing my tattered towels when the kids keep staining the good ones.

Lipstick on a pig!

You can follow that path to all sorts of dreadful places, like not buying flattering clothing that fits for want of losing weight. It’s silly, it’s harmful, and I try not to live like that.

My Valentine flowers are a loving gesture from a person who actually strives to make me happy every single day. That’s well worth celebrating in and of itself! Seen in that light, it would be downright shameful of me not to share my imperfect photos with the world with the celebration and joy that selfless love deserves.

On Valentine’s Day, I didn’t feel in wonderful health and my house was a mess, but I had the good fortune to spend the day with people I love and who love me back. It’s lovely; it’s enough. I wish everyone felt free to bask in such glorious imperfection.

And a skeptic as to my sincerity when I protest obligatory flowers, even 20+ years into our relationship!

Hug ‘er if you’ve got ‘er this Mother’s Day

This Mother’s Day is one to teach me the value of gratitude for what I have.

If your mother is still around, embrace her if you can. Call her if she’s far away.

Woman hugs childThere’s no one quite like the person who puts you first before all others. Or, perhaps, just makes you feel like she does.

Shh, I won’t tell your siblings you’re Mom’s favorite!

If something besides space lies between you and your mom, try hard to find some way past it.

Loving someone for who they are doesn’t mean agreeing with everything s/he thinks, feels, or does. It’s simply a blessing for both parties and a way of bettering our world.

Happy Mother’s Day to everyone who is or has a mother.

Gee, I think that’s everyone!

Prioritize time with friends if you value your health

Do you prioritize your friendships?

Studies show—and common sense should confirm—that lives are healthier and happier when they include regular time spent in agreeable company. Getting together for coffee with a friend is as worthwhile an endeavor as hitting the gym or having your annual physical with the doctor.Espresso in demitasse cup on cafe table

“[R]esearchers have predicted that loneliness will reach epidemic proportions by 2030 unless action is taken”

and

“Current evidence indicates that heightened risk for mortality from a lack of social relationships is greater than that from obesity”

Quotes from a 2015 Meta analysis of research on loneliness/social isolation and its effect on health by Julianne Holt-Lunstad, et. al.

Yet, somehow, our culture presses us to “make time” for work (primarily) as if time can be spun from willpower alone and also lionizes those whose sexual relationships fit an idealized mold. Subsequent emphasis is then given to the familial obligations that result when offspring commonly results from the latter.

Woman hugs childTo the exclusion of all else, the role of spouse and, maybe, parent, especially if you’re a woman is presumed to offer all the emotional support one person needs, tacitly proclaiming romantic love* a panacea for every type of companionship.

Unfortunately, that notion is tragically flawed, placing outrageous pressure on one person to be “everything” to another when that is neither probable nor healthy. It kills marriages, leaving lonely people feeling like failures when they’ve followed the common wisdom and left their friendships behind after coupling.

Human beings are social creatures. We evolved to live in communities.

I’ve got it easier than most as chronic illness forces me to confront my limitations on a regular basis. If I wasn’t skilled at aligning my actions to my values before I got sick, having my physical energies truncated again and againand again so repeatedly has brought my focus to the point.

It’s a fine, sharp point, too!

Men, in particular, may literally be dying from loneliness, though social isolation is increasing for all genders. “Social” media is simply not sufficient to nurture human health and happiness.

People seated in beneath stone arches in Barcelona restaurantThough, by all means, keep reading my blog.

Call a friend. Make a date. Visit the pub. Take time to play a game together. Put it in your calendar, and prioritize it! Your other successes will mean very little if you go early to your grave for want of meaningful companionship.

*Modern philosopher Roman Krznaric wrote a wonderful article on how our interpretation of the thing we call “love” and how ours differs from that of the ancient Greeks. I highly recommend both the short article and his full length book containing the same work as a chapter.

Book How should we live - 1Search for: How Should We Live?: Great Ideas from the Past for Everyday Life

Profound joy alongside grief when accepting unavoidable loss

My sincere hope is that I bring more positive thoughts to the world than negative ones. My choice of domain name, ReallyWonderfulThings.me, reflects that impulse and intent.

Lately, however, I’m mired in a slowly unfolding crisis that looms inexorable. Here is one of those snafus inherent to life. I can’t avoid it. I can’t fix it. The best I can do for myself is to endure with a measure of grace.

For my ill loved one whose prognosis is likely death within two years, I’m also aiming to provide comfort and support to any extent that I can. I am wholly inadequate to the task.

I’ve shed plenty of tears and pitied myself because I’m human and so damnably, unrelentingly flawed. I’m already grieving a loss that hasn’t happened yet, even as I nurse the tiny flame of hope that we will defy the statistics, beating the odds and the fallibility of every living body.

Facing my fears one at a time and bringing my intellect to bear on the process is a large part of how I cope. I read studies, research long shots, and struggle with my fundamental powerlessness.

And yet! I have also experienced a shocking and rather profound blossoming of a calm state of resigned joy. I never, ever expected that.

Don’t mistake me; it’s bittersweet. I could talk about my sadness or my fear, and typing these words has already brought a fresh wash of tears. None of that surprised me, though. The joy sure as hell did.

Somehow, staring straight in the face of one of my worst fears brings with it a resolute peace as I’m forced to live in each moment, because, really, that is all that I actually have. It’s easier to savor sharing good times with someone when you know each event is precious, limited, and won’t ever come around again.

There is nothing I can do except live my life as best I can. What a relief to give myself permission to do so in the absence of guilt. How freeing to accept* what I cannot change. I never thought I had it in me.

May good fortune and robust health find you and everyone you care about.

*As the serenity prayer sagely advises. One needn’t be a true believer to accept good advice. I’m pretty sure a number of gurus are preaching along the very same lines.

Meeting 2019 with Time’s boot prints on my back

This long overdue post has to begin with a Monty Python quote:

“I’m not dead yet!”

My long silence can be explained by a lot of stuff happening In Real Life, most of which isn’t really my story to share. Suffice to say that a close family member is dealing with a major health crisis, and enough of my assistance has been required to eat up much of my free (a.k.a., blogging) time.

I may have used what remained to play my favorite video game, The Sims 3. I’m not proud of the hours I while away in Riverview or Hidden Springs, but I do appreciate the diversion. I’m absolutely susceptible to the siren song of oblivion in a virtual world!

Also, as a bonus, my teenager thinks I’m more cool less lame when I play more video games.

Major upheavals in the status quo of one’s family dynamics can be profoundly disconcerting. I’m grateful that my current situation is allowing me time to reflect upon what’s happening with my loved one. I’m also wrestling with the reality that some of life’s conundrums never get resolved, no matter how much will one side brings to the table.

The only real option any of us has is to face whatever comes and do one’s best with each situation. Other people will just keep having opinions, personality quirks, and issues of their own. The privilege of reacting appropriately in spite of all that is granted to every one us, over, and over, and over again…

Time marches on, and we will go with it. If we’re lucky, we keep step. Sometimes, we’re just kicked along underfoot to arrive at the future disheveled and in a state of shock with Time’s bloody boot prints on our backs.

I find it best to focus on having made it this far, after all. Kicking aside, it beats the alternative of having no life left to suffer, or enjoy.

May 2019 bring you and your family good health and every happiness!