January 2023 marks 40 years of life with Rock. We met as high school students when he moved into the neighborhood. The first time I saw him I thought “Wow! He’s gorgeous!” and immediately sighed inside thinking I had no chance with him. But, for some reason, he liked what he saw in me. I was a train wreck, though I didn’t know it. I battled depression and anxiety and terribly low self-esteem. He was raised to believe he could have whatever he wanted if he was willing to fight hard enough for it. I still praise the Lord he decided I was worth fighting for.
His battle was against me not believing I could be loved enough, not believing I could be wanted. I need to be very clear on this point. Nothing Mother or Daddy did caused my problems. There were other elements in my life that contributed to my problems. Rock only cared about loving me.
And for 40 years he has done just that. He has fought to keep our life on track and our children safe. He fought to drag me out of the depths of grief and sadness while dealing with his own grief over the years. He raised our children to believe they too could have whatever they wanted if they were willing to fight for it.
We live an adventure even now. Between the children, the granddaughters, the longhorns, church, hunting, fishing, living in the Big Thicket, river life and lake life, we always have something going on. We are still crazy about each other and he has helped me become someone I couldn’t have been without him.
I liken him to an ancient warrior. His ancestry points to Scotland and I am reminded that even the Empire of Rome could not overtake his grandfathers. I see that strength in him. He is tough and strong and yes, he can be difficult. I love the difficult just as much as I do the tender and gentle parts of him. I tried to explain to someone one time that truly loving someone is to love the dark as much as the light parts of them. To not only accept and tolerate, but to embrace the hard to handle parts, too.
Contrary to popular belief, he has a tender heart that loves larger than life. He adores his children and granddaughters. He stays on alert for any sign of distress among our tiny family circle. Anyone who causes even a little stress among us is forever excluded from his trust. He keeps a small, tight circle around us.
I praise Jesus for our life together. Rock’s faith in Christ, his tenacity in life, his passion and strength keep me grounded and safe. I never want to take for granted the love we share. I am ever grateful for his choosing to love me. I pray he knows how much I love him. We will celebrate our 38th wedding anniversary in June, but I am celebrating our 40th year of being in love. I love you, Rock.
I have too much I want to do and too many things on my list. It’s not a bucket list or a chore list really. But, dozens of reminders of things I want to try to cook, try to make, try to learn about. Too many lists of too many things and am unable to figure out where to start most days. I confess I have completed a few things on the latest compilation of lists. I have simply marked through some other things to eliminate them rather deal with them.
I have multiple notebooks full of lists. My hobby seems to be making lists. I have ideas, I read about things, I get an interest in something and it goes on my lists. The problem is that some things never get off the list. Many of the items are not really things to do, but reminders of how to act or think as habitual behaviors. Some are simply maxims to try to live by. There are items to buy, books to read, menus to cook, crafts to create, places to visit, people to see, questions to ask.
I get aggravated with it because I want to get it all done and then again, I don’t want to feel compelled to get it all done. I have a significant problem with making up my mind. Deciding a course and sticking to it through to completion.
Here’s the comical part I am dealing with recently. I have a tablet full of notes and also a wonderful agenda notebook gifted to me by our son and his bride. I have a section in the agenda, six plus pages, where I have made a list of things. I am considering getting yet another notebook and trying to sort the list into categorized lists. It wouldn’t be the first time to try that. One excuse I have made to myself for being less organized with this aspect of my existence is that I can’t find the right notebook or organizing tool. And I can’t decide on what to write with. And I don’t know if I should include all the previous books of lists when I do take on the task. This is all very ridiculous and very personal. Some people collect stamps or follow college sports. I collect tidbits of notions and make lists of them.
I have seen the bullet journal concept. I have avoided it. For a lister like me, that kind of project could either be a deeper, darker obsession or could push me to the brink of exhaustion. And I always see the journals with all the decorated pages as being frivolous and time consuming. It may end up on the table after all. Along with art journaling or a “smash book” I think may be the current term, perhaps I could slow the chasing thoughts and tame the lists. I know for a fact there are far too many duplicate entries over the scope of all my notebooks. What if I could make one big beautiful book to hold all my lists?
I think I may be going over the edge. I am either going crazy or going creative. To me both feel the same.
Enough of this nonsense. I needed to write Orchids. I haven’t been consistent the last few weeks. Now I know why. Too much nonsense chasing around my brain. Too many thoughts jumbled up in there.