***
Last deployment I begged my husband for a hand written letter. I didn't want flowers, I didn't want candy, I didn't want jewelry and our emails and phone calls had become SO boring! Basic "How are you"s....Not very romantic or heartfelt! Well, months go by and still no letter...It took us getting into a fight before he actually sent one (The very last month he was gone!). Guys don't really realize what the small stuff means to us girls. Getting a letter in the mail is like wining the lottery!!! We just want to know, in your own words, in your own writing how much you really love us. Tell us we're beautiful...Most times it takes us breaking down and losing our minds before you guys understand just how important all that is.
I came across this blog entry and wanted to share it with you...
“I am running on fumes, here, fellah,” I snapped into the phone. “I’m getting nothing from you. Why do you think I can go and go and always come last in your life???”
Yeah, I confess that I went off on poor Brad last night. Note the drama of the words “nothing” and “always” and “last”—as if the existence of a Fig Newton was more important to Brad than me.
I know it is not. It is just that at that moment, the demands of the Navy were too much. That happens once in a while. Thus the whack phone call.
Luckily for me, Brad is an old husband. He called back later with a good answer that I wanted to share with you. Brad said, “I do take you for granted. You go along so well, you do so many things, that I forget that you need something too. I just forget.”
He sounded like every other military husband I know. And he is right. I pride myself on being his able partner in the business of life. When the military makes demands on us, I want our family to be strong enough to step up. Yet, I still need stuff from Brad. I know me. I’m one of those people who needs words, lots of words. Words of encouragement. Words of praise. Words to share a life. Brad knows that already. He gets caught up in the frantic urgency of the military. He forgets the needs of home. He takes the spin and drive of us for granted. So how does a guy remember the important needs of home if they aren’t on fire or screeching on the phone?
When we talked about it later, Brad reminded me about what I had said about running on fumes. “Your tank was empty,” he said. “I need to fill that regularly. Like the car.”
I thought that was a perfect analogy. Because in the military, a marriage is a lot like a car. You get it and it is nice and shiny and new. You feel like you got a bargain. It is everything you want. If you are lucky, it is the only car you will ever need. You’ll make it to the Million Mile Club as long as you change the oil. Wax the paint. Check the tires. Fill the tank regularly.
So today Brad and I have been going back and forth thinking of ways to hook this car idea to stuff he already does automatically. I said he ought to write my name on his gas gauge with a Sharpie. He said that with his schedule he ought to attach pictures of all the spouses onto the fuel lines the sailors use to fill up the ship. I laughed as I pictured that–long lines of loving faces, stretching out between ships, fueling all of our intentions.
I mean, comparing a wife to a car? Crazy!
But is it really?? Men are like children. They need to have things broken down for them in the simplest of ways. I would rather be compared to a car than be put second to one...in my case it's the Harley. Or Harvey, as we have named him....
***
On a lighter note, I think things with me and the Mister are finally cooling down. I was able to voice my opinion without him getting mad and he was able to voice his. I'm hoping over the next few days you will see much less complaining coming from this here blog!
Until next time, my friends! I am headed to the pool! <3
