Life: Looking Back, Looking Forward

You know LASH there was a time when we thought you might be here in Albaturkey on the anniversary of my stroke (also my b'day) so I bought a bottle of Bollinger Champagne. I had intended to let you fondle the cork while meself, the lady Diane and the Corleone stud sipped the tiny bubbles from crystal flutes. You're now down to a couple of bottles of Pacifico.

We can never know about the days to come
But we think about them anyway, yay
And I wonder if I'm really with you now
Or just chasin' after some finer day

Constipation, constipation
Is makin' me late
Is keepin' me waitin'

And I tell you how easy it feels to be with you
And how right your arms feel around me
But I, I rehearsed those lines just late last night
When I was thinkin' about how right tonight might be

Constipation, constipation
Is makin' me late
Is keepin' me waitin'

And tomorrow we might not be together
I'm no prophet and I don't know nature's ways
So I'll try and see into your eyes right now
And stay right here 'cause these are the good old days

(These are the good old days)
And stay right here 'cause these are the good old days
(These are the good old days)
(These are the good old days)
(These are the good old days)
(These are.....the good old days)

Dys--

I am formally begging for reinstatement into your good graces and your superior alcohol.

Signed,

Don Corleone's goomah

dream on bimbo.

bastid!

<please, dammit!>

Lash, wow. Powerful, evocative, strong!

Normally I don't like poetry (it's too like abstract art and fusion jazz for my taste) but really, you have a powerful way with words.

I didn't understand much of it but I have to admit, I liked both poems!

Omigosh, Mame!!

What a pleasant surprise! Thanks for reading...and very happy you liked them.

Yeah baby, so where are the other two? Do I have to take out a subscription

This is the first one.

http://www.thenewhumanist.com/Lee%20Rish.htm

The fourth is due in the next issue of the magazine. I'll link it when it shows up. Most of the people here have read it...it's the one about my uncle's funeral.

Wow, Lash - I love that one!

I think I need to rethink my opinion of poetry.

Oh dang!!! That's the nicest thing you could've said!

Thanks!

Lash, you painted a picture that I could clearly see. It was beautiful.

<smiles>

Thank you, sweetheart!!! That means a lot from you.

So, Two Week Report:

I think we are going to be happy together. (Of course, this is based on fourteen days of data...haha.)

Our biggest conflict seems to be his proclivity to make little throw away comments that I find critical...and my extreme discomfort with personal criticism. "Ya dropped that, huh?" If anything isn't in "it's place," it generally follows that I have moved it/lost it/am to blame in some way. I noticed this was making me edgy, so that when he mentioned anything not in it's place, I began to get a smidge nervous. I got mad at myself about this, and this was the result: (Boy, did my time as a therapist come in handy...haha)

He, aghast, "My necklace! It was right here!" (Jabs finger on counter) Me, doing cleansing inhale/exhale, "Yes. I saw it there, too."

He repeats his line about twice, and I say that if neither of us moved it, he'll find it. "Don't worry," I say. It is a treasured gift from his sister, so I understand why he's anxious.

"Well, I didn't move it," he mumbles, looking at me all accusatory. I smile and say, "Then, no worries. Neither did I." He points out the mess on the counter--a mishmash of items to be packed for our move...a place where I am compiling and organizing...yes, a mess, but a purposeful mess. But, I assure him I haven't thrown it away and that I am picking up each item carefully...

He is emitting an accusatory (not loud or rude, just sort of unrelenting) vibe to me for fifteen minutes, which I repel with my new self-confident forcefield, which looks a lot like serenity, but feels like a stomach of barbed wire. He then quietly says, "Here it is." ...where he obviously moved it. I'm not mad, because this happens a lot--I see it as a small fault and I was waiting for this opportunity--a teachable moment...haha...I say in a sweet tone, "When you blame me for missing things, it makes me feel bad. I think an apology would make me feel better."

"I'm sorry, baby." I get a kiss. He gets a playful Who's Yer Momma, Now eyebrow.

I think about fifty repititions of this behavior modification may stunt this behavior. If not, I'm rolling up a newspaper.

Last night:

I go to bed in my clothes because this apt is freezing! So, about 30 minutes after we're in bed, I start undressing under the covers. Now, I know this can be annoying. I'm moving the bed. He's a bit of a grumpy sleeper, and says, "Honey, be still!" Ya, I know he said honey, but I hated the tone and the sentiment. Be still?? ****, just sigh heavily and chill, right? Be still??

So, I very calmly get up, take pillow and an extra blanket and sleep on the couch. I figure this will instantly cease all possible movement from me. No harsh words, no light in the face, no recriminations.

So, did I overreact? Is "Be Still" as ridiculous as I think, or am I impossible?

Anyway, in summary, I am nuts about him. He's so sweet and thoughtful. We have so many wonderful little moments. These are our little bickersons, and I wanted to get some feedback.

Lash, Your story is a prime example of why getting married at an older age so oftem is more successful than youthful marriages. You were able to direct your feelings of nervous resentment into something that is reasonable and mature.

If Vito doens't get it after a few tries, more than a newspaper might be needed.

So how did the night on the couch work out?

Lash, you really do write well. The descriptions of feelings and reactions and the spoken exchanges are so vivid. And congrats on what sounds like a cozy pairing.

Haha!!! Re the newspaper!

I slept for a few hours, and wake up to him standing over me. In a very small voice (sweet), he says, "Honey. Come to bed?" Says me, "I'm ok." Says him, "Please."

I smile and go to bed. He snuggles me. This morning, he says, "Baby got mad at me last night." I told him I hadn't been mad, just didn't want to keep him up. I'm not exactly sure how true this is--but it was true enough. I'm trying to send my messages without anger and hard feelings and so far, it's working beautifully.

Thanks, Diane. I always appreciate your input.

<excited to see snood here...going to respond in another post>

Just reading along.......

Snood,

It means a lot to me to find your comment here. You are adjusting to a new marriage and I think we may be able to learn a lot from one another. Feel free to drop off any little stories here about your relationship, or insights in general. My best wishes to you and your lovely bride. Thanks, snood.

Well, you're in his house now, and Vito is probably used to being by himself and somewhat territorial (as most men). You misplacing things - or so he
thought - is something he's not used to. The chaos of packing and moving
is probably an additional emotion that has to sink in slowly.

You will know exactly how he feels, once he's in your place and leaves
the towels where you don't want them to be, and so on.

These are just the growing pains of living together - don't worry!

Why is the apartment so cold though?

All this is an "I don't know" from me. I know we are are in 'you can't be my friend mode', Lash, but I'm preempting that in my obnoxious way. I get your various instincts. You might or might not have a controller on your hands. On the other hand, people like you and me and others here have a packet of controlling behaviors, as well.

I've not that much experience in this, in that my marriage, to the extent it worked and it worked for oh, 1.8 decades, was in neither of us controlling the board, kind of a balanced interplay, with little in the way of fire bombs. But, of course, that it dissolved, speaks to my lack of grasp of the situation.