Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Mr. Romance Strikes Again

I have written, on more than one occasion, about my husbands lack of romantic ability, but this week he said something that prompted me to have to do so again.

Now you might be thinking that I'm expecting some mushy over the top romantic candlelit dinners, or flowers being sent on no special occasion, and that kind of thing. I can assure you that I'm not expecting any of that. I am a realist, who happens to be no where near delusional.

When I say that my husband lacks romance, I mean the man doesn't have a romantic bone in his entire body. To give you an idea let me present you with a few of the past incidents as evidence of this fact.

Here goes..He took me to the movies twice in one week and actually skipped a seat between us both times. There have been numerous Valentines day cards that he has given me over the years that were completely void of any reference to love or romance whatsoever. (Yes, they actually make them.) One that comes to mind said "On this Valentines Day I just wanted to tell you how I feel. That was on the front of the card, and inside it said.. "I feel fine.".

Good Lord the man can't even play along with holiday rules. I haven't been kissed under mistletoe since I married him. Last year I even hung a sign in my office at home that said Mistletoe testing done here...hint hint. I got nothing.

One evening I completely lost my mind and suggested that we make a calendar appointed date night once a week. He responded with "Why do I need to take you on a date? We've been married for twenty something years.

Yes, as you can probably already tell my husband is just full of cupid inspired remarks. A virtual fountain of love.

Anyway, on to what great thing he said this week. We were lying in bed and about to go to sleep and I looked at him and said "It bothers me that you never kiss me goodnight".

I want you to know that he looked at me and without any hesitation whatsoever, answered with a remark that was so intelligent, if I didn't know he had gone on to the hereafter, I would have thought I was sleeping with Einstein himself.

He said "It's implied". What?? Who being told that someone would like to be kissed goodnight says off of the top of their head "It's implied."?? Are you kidding me??

I was stunned into silence. I thought right then and there that of all the great things he has said to me in the twenty something years of our marriage this one was the winner.

Do you think that he laughed or bothered to say he was kidding...Oh no. He meant it. He actually thought he had given me a suitable answer. When I found my voice I said "Wow. So an implied kiss is the same as one that involves actual physical contact. Honey, you might not believe this, but I had no idea.".

We went to sleep as usual, without the goodnight kiss, but I couldn't help thinking that if a kiss could be "implied" then so could other things....

I had no idea that for years I could have been responding with "oh that? It's implied."...

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Packing My Bags

When I was a little girl, and the school bell rang to signal that Summer was here, I only thought about one thing. How fast could I get my bags packed to go and stay with my Grandparents? My twin sister and I went every summer.

They lived in a house in what is now known as the “Historic Grant Park district” of Atlanta. The house sat up on a hill and was complete with a front porch that provided me with a place to make more treasured memories than I can even begin to count. There was a glider, two of those wonderful metal chairs that everyone had back then, and of course, a front porch swing.

Upon my arrival, I would race up the two flights of stairs that led to that porch, throw open the screen door, which would inevitably slam shut behind me, and run in the house like I was on fire, because I just knew they were going to be thrilled by my presence. My grandparents and my Aunt, that lived with them,would then respond by giving me hugs and kisses and acting like I was the best thing since sliced bread.

Those weeks were filled with so much fun and what seemed to me like endless days of adventure. I woke up in the mornings to the smell of my Granny frying bacon, eggs and making buttermilk pancakes, and was hummed to sleep at night by the sound of a window fan out in the kitchen that drew cool air through the house.

Every Monday was grocery store and drugstore day. My grandparents kept a schedule that rarely varied. One Monday we went to the grocery store and Granny said “When we're done here I'll take you next door and get you something.”. Next door was a Sunshine department store, and I knew what I wanted.

My sister went directly to the toy department, like most children would do, but not me. I went straight for the cosmetics. I found some light blue eye shadow, of the crème type, and I proceeded to beg for it.

I say beg, because my Grandfather called it war paint, and my Granny never wore it, nor cared for it herself, so they weren't in favor of making such a purchase. I can still hear her saying to me “Powder and paint make you what you ain't.”. She said “That mess will ruin your skin, and you don't need it.”.

It took me a few minutes, but when we left Sunshine's I had my eyeshadow and couldn't wait to get home to a mirror. I ran in the door and straight to my Aunt's vanity where I applied a very generous amount, and just knew that it looked amazing.

Less than 30 minutes later I had blisters that ran all the way across my eyelids from an allergic reaction, caused by my adolescent attempt at “beautiful”. I cried and carried on and the tears were not good... Lord have mercy did they burn. My Granny was a smart woman.

I did many things when I was at my grandparents house. To many to list here, but I am going to share a few.

There was a field beside the house where wild violets grew in deep purple, lavender and white. I would spend hours out in that field picking them until I'd have so many my hand could hardly close around them. I would bring them in and put them in glasses of water and place them in every room in the house. I still love violets today.

We'd sit on the front porch in the afternoons working puzzles on a card table or shelling/hulling purple peas, and snapping pole beans into bowls for supper. We'd talk about what we thought the trees across the street that were wrapped in kudzu vines looked like, or what the cloud shapes reminded us of.

I also learned to knit sitting on that front porch. My Granny was right handed and I was left handed, so it was a struggle, but she managed to teach me, and I loved it. I would sit for hours and knit. My Grandfather loved to tease me. I remember every time that I walked by him that Summer he would say “knit one, pearl two.”

Many old “Southern Sayings” were spoken and learned on that porch as well. I heard things like someone was “so stuck up if it rained they'd drowned”, and the sight of gray clouds brought “It's come up a cloud”...meaning a storm had blown in.

I have heard it said that someone was “no count”. This meant that the person was not making any sort of contribution to society whatsoever.

I heard “Lazy man's load” meaning trying to carry everything in one trip, when it should take several, or “poor to carry it” meaning someone was small for the load they were carrying. This could also be said about a small person if they had eaten more than it looked like they could hold.

The most important lesson I was taught by one of my Granny's sayings was without a doubt “Can't never could do nothing.”. Meaning if you said you couldn't then you never would because you were self defeating with your own words before you ever got started.

A close second I think would have to be that “You are judged by the company you keep.”'. My Mama reiterated this one and as an adult I know now that they were so right.


I was also taught that “A bird don't fly so high, it doesn't have to come down for water.”. This one meant simply that everyone needs someone at one time or another in their life. It took me a few years of growing up to understand that one, but now I totally get it.

The front porch was also a place for history lessons. I learned so much just sipping my sweet tea and listening to them talk. They told of how they met, they told stories of their parents, siblings, cousins, and friends, along with many other great stories of family and times gone by.

When my first love broke up with me, I was in high school. I was like just about every other girl, always applying my makeup, heavy on the lip gloss, rolling my hair with hot curlers, and wearing my perfume, but when we broke up, I was devastated. Near grown or not, I needed to be babied again, so I packed my bags and ran straight to Granny's house.

That's right I was going where there was no makeup required, sundresses and bare feet were accepted, and hair that was air dried, curly and wild was actually called beautiful. I needed love, rest, and to lick my wounds.

When I got there I was met with a hug and my Granny saying “Forget about him. Your backside would make him a Sunday face”... this reminded me that humor is also healing. Between the feeling of love and the humor that was provided, Granny's house gave me more inner healing than any spa in Buckhead could have.

I loved that house and front porch, and I loved the people who lived there. There was no better place for me than my grandparents house. There was a feeling of love, security, and peace there that was so strong it was close to tangible.

If you walked in feeling lonely or unloved they gave you their love, reminded you that Jesus was always with you and that you had his love. You left knowing you were wrong for thinking there was a lack of love in your life.

If you came in hungry you left full..(My Granny could stretch a meal like you wouldn't believe. I often joke that on any given Sunday she was like Jesus and the fish. No matter how many people walked in unexpected, after church, she fed everyone and there were leftovers.

The three people who lived there gave me so much more than they were ever aware of. They have, as my Granny would say, “Gone on to be with the Lord.”, and There are new residents in the house these days. I can only hope that they take time to sit and talk on the porch and learn a few things from each other.


As for me, there have been many times when I would love to pack my bags and run back to that house and the people who once lived there.

The knowledge that it is no longer possible has caused more than a few tears to spill onto my cheeks, but if I close my eyes and listen...

I can still hear that window fan humming, see a little girl among a field of violets, hear that screen door slam,and feel an unconditional love surround me......
 
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