It is very telling that you remember that he hasn’t done something from 2007. Are you keeping score? Now you sound like my wife when she was mad… As I said in a previous post some men grow up never having known what love is. I am one of those. Seedy details not worth remembering. So, we don’t know how to love, how to share, how to enjoy a family life. It took a very strong woman to teach me how to love, or rather be in love. There is a huge difference.
For me, it began with little love notes. Teases of what was waiting for me. I still have some of those notes. For instance, when we were very poor and living from paycheck to paycheck, my Christmas present note was to take the then 2 children out on my birthday, January 2, so I could watch all the bowl games since the 1st came on a Sunday. One of the greatest presents I ever received.
I used to call it the world’s biggest junk yard. When we could she would write me a note that she wanted me to take her to the Williamsburg Pottery when we were stationed at Quantico, Va.—in return she would—I can’t even remember what it was. But, we did go to Williamsburg Pottery and I happily endured the all day shopping. There were so many things that she taught me through those notes.
I found over the years that marriage was like 2 circles that intersect. 1 being my personal life and 1 being hers. Where they intersected was ours. Over the years that intersection became larger and larger. But it didn’t start out that way.
I could never buy the “right” Christmas present for her. She would call them “Joy to the World” presents—accepted, but, why the heck did he buy this. Over the years the girls even asked every Christmas if I had purchased another “Joy To The World” present. That was fixed when they became teenagers and shopped for me. Never could get it right—except once. I had brought her a diamond ring on one of my many deployments. So I put it in a furniture store box about 5 feet high and 4 feet wide filled it with concrete blocks and newspaper and wrapped it. Never told the girls, because they could not keep a secret. So on Christmas morning she opened it and said “Joy to the world, I got a concrete block”. She kept digging and found the ring. She spent the next week going around to the neighbors showing it off. For once, I had done something right. Was I proud? you betcha. Even had other husbands asking me where I got it, because their wife wanted one also. I was BMOC for awhile—until I screwed up again.
She could remember every wrong thing I did to the date, time, and minute. Whenever I did something wrong, she would bring everyone of my wrongs up. The list was quite long. That’s why I asked about the 2007.
I still have many of those notes. “Good for one massage” handmade coupons. I never wrote notes, but I did bring a flower to her at least once a week, nothing fancy, just a flower. I didn’t say “I love you” every day, didn’t say it much at all really. But, I did try to show it my way.
When I was home, Saturday was her “day off”. I would get the children up, cook their breakfast, and take them on an adventure trek(that’s what we called it), until after dark Saturday Evening. Sometimes she just stayed in bed and read, sometimes she went shopping with a neighbor, sometimes she just laid in a hot tub of water and relaxed.
We were pretty much in sync as to how to raise children. Supper and bed by 8 P.M. when they were younger. One time my middle daughter’s second grade teacher, a friend of my wife, called to explain that my daughter had told the class, “My Mother never takes a bath”. Well, she was right in her mind, because after they were in bed, my wife would take a bath and rest for awhile, while I was in my office at home doing paperwork, planning the next day etc. She did the same when I was gone.
When we retired we(read she) built a home. My office was across from the bedroom. One of the few changes to the blueprints I was allowed to make was the the bedroom door be directly across from the door of my office. So when she was lying on the bed reading and I was at my desk we could look up and see each other. Not much conversation just looked up and saw her. It was a very comforting feeling.
That is why, when she passed on, I sold the home to my daughter and son-in-law. I just could not stand to live there any longer. She had been designing that home for 39 years, even kept a folder of pictures of what she wanted each room to be. We moved some 20 or so times in our marriage. That home contained the best of every place we had ever lived, or seen in our travels. My job in the house building was to stay the heck out of the way and pay for it. I did that very well. She was very proud of that home. I was too, for she had built it. It was and still is a dream home for me, but I cannot live there.
I am very sure your husband is me also. There was a time in our marriage when she mentioned divorce. My only answer was “OK” at the time. I am very happy we got over that hill. We worked it out together—like 2 horses pulling the same plow. They don’t pull it the same way, but if both of them do not pull, nothing gets plowed.
Our priest has a very dry sense of humor. 
May God Bless you and guide you.
Plus, I’m sure once the kids are grown my husband will take off with the first girl to look his way. He’s not exactly what you call loyal…
It causes me much sorrow to know that this is what it has come to. Never did I imagine that I would be in such a pitiful marriage. But nothing is impossible with God. Never give up hope…
Of course, I only used it as my “secret weapon” because that is the only time my husband scrambles to his feet and makes an attempt to work at the marriage.
