Monday, December 17, 2012

On the 4th day of Christmas my true love gave to me...

A big strong shoulder to cry on...

Friday was a rough day from the start.  Thursday night was a concoction of 19 wonderful ladies, Christmas Ale, delicious appetizers, champagne, a festive gift exchange, spiked hot chocolate, more snacks, then more Christmas Ale.  Mixed somewhere in there were hurt feelings, the new awareness of a year-long grudge and staying up way past my bedtime.  The morning brought sadness I wasn't really prepared for... and a feeling like I was in high school all over again.  The hangover didn't help.

The afternoon brought news of the horrific loss of innocent lives in CT.  I won't get into the politics of it all, nor will I share every sad story that I've heard over the last few days.  There are no words for this kind of tragedy.  Nevertheless, as a parent, it's impossible to comprehend that kind of loss.  And while it probably should have put everything into perspective for me that day, I instead let it stew with my existing sadness, mixing in with the foggy remnants of a well-deserved hangover, and I found myself in a depression I couldn't get myself out of.

Super husband to the rescue.

Well, sort of.  I certainly didn't think so at the time.  In fact, I was quite disappointed in my husband's lack of interest in helping me sort out my sadness.  Needless to say, we were completely on the same page with our feelings concerning what was going on in CT.  But when it came to my own personal issue, I got a whole lot of nothing.  No problem solving assistance, no insistence that it was just a misunderstanding.  He just sat there... listening.

Crap!  That was it!  He was listening!  Just like I always ask him to do.  All I want is for him to be there for me, let me vent, let me know he's there for me, tell me he understands, and just let me get whatever it is I'm feeling off my chest.  Damn it... he was doing exactly what I wanted... what I needed... it just took a few days for me to appreciate it.

Fact is, my problems are not his to solve.  His job as my husband, is to be there for me... to listen, to comfort, to tell me it's all going to be okay.  To run to the store at 11:00 at night to get me something I wanted, even though I didn't need it.  Okay, so that's not really his job either, but he did it anyway :)

The point is that he did everything he was supposed to do... everything I've ever asked of him.  The problem isn't solved, my sadness isn't gone... but I walk away with the knowledge that the next time I'm having a bad day, feeling sad or just need someone to listen, my husband will be just the man I need.

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