Went over to Spotswood last night to pester Sasha. We made spaghetti at 3 AM. It actually turned out really well...I was proud of myself. It's interesting; I've had an interest in learning how to cook for some time, but I was always too--nervous, I guess. Too edgy to experiment and possibly fail at making something. And God knows everyone makes mistakes cooking at some point or another.
But it seems sometimes that when I'm around Sasha my fears become somewhat diminished. She laughs at them, but kindly--not in a "don't be such a coward" way, but, in a way that says (as she does) "You amuse me and I like you because of/in spite of your quirks." And having someone to laugh with you at your fears helps to take the edge of them.
So I whipped up a batch of spaghetti out of the stuff they had lying around in the cabinets. Olive oil, garlic salt, butter, Prego--voila, I had myself a post-midnight snack.
Only got about six hours sleep, and I was a bit concerned about how that would affect my presentation, but it didn't really matter. I knew in the long run this brief wouldn't make much of a difference, but I still detest speaking in front of other people. At least Capt. Mensch liked what I had to say. To the extent that he interrupted me every other sentence to add something or give a personal anecdote.
The past day, two days, week or two, I've been thinking about the surety of things and whether I'm certain about what I want. I've been thinking that passion is a really flawed way to approach romance. It's superficial and energy-consuming and it's blinding. Passion doesn't know any reason. It glosses over flaws and imperfections, choosing instead to see only the good in a person rather than the interactions between a person's faults and strengths. I mean, if I'm going to wake up next to the same person for 50+ years, I don't want it to be passionate relationship. That would wear me out emotionally after about a year. Passion is as easily destructive as it is constructive; but the calm, enduring love that I have yet to see is the strong rock upon which to build a life together.
Or maybe I'm trying to build up my hopes yet again. Everybody's got their drug. Mine is either caffeine or idealism, I can't tell which.
But it seems sometimes that when I'm around Sasha my fears become somewhat diminished. She laughs at them, but kindly--not in a "don't be such a coward" way, but, in a way that says (as she does) "You amuse me and I like you because of/in spite of your quirks." And having someone to laugh with you at your fears helps to take the edge of them.
So I whipped up a batch of spaghetti out of the stuff they had lying around in the cabinets. Olive oil, garlic salt, butter, Prego--voila, I had myself a post-midnight snack.
Only got about six hours sleep, and I was a bit concerned about how that would affect my presentation, but it didn't really matter. I knew in the long run this brief wouldn't make much of a difference, but I still detest speaking in front of other people. At least Capt. Mensch liked what I had to say. To the extent that he interrupted me every other sentence to add something or give a personal anecdote.
The past day, two days, week or two, I've been thinking about the surety of things and whether I'm certain about what I want. I've been thinking that passion is a really flawed way to approach romance. It's superficial and energy-consuming and it's blinding. Passion doesn't know any reason. It glosses over flaws and imperfections, choosing instead to see only the good in a person rather than the interactions between a person's faults and strengths. I mean, if I'm going to wake up next to the same person for 50+ years, I don't want it to be passionate relationship. That would wear me out emotionally after about a year. Passion is as easily destructive as it is constructive; but the calm, enduring love that I have yet to see is the strong rock upon which to build a life together.
Or maybe I'm trying to build up my hopes yet again. Everybody's got their drug. Mine is either caffeine or idealism, I can't tell which.
7 Comments:
The stories I read about people who've been married for fifty years or so usually have the same theme: The husband says the secret is to "stay out of her way when she gets mad." His wife says what works is to "always have his dinner ready on time."
Rose and Joe will celebrate their 63rd anniversary this May. From what I ever saw, they pretty much followed that course.
For instance, one time Joe comes home from work and Rose is having an ugly mood swing,lashing out at everyone, including him and the dog.
Joe takes it for awhile and then he says, "hey, how about we start this over?" So while she stares at him, he puts on his coat again, goes out the front door, closes it and proceeds down the stairs and then turns and walks back slowly to the house.
As if he'd not been there before, Jope comes back thru the door, takes off his coat, smiles at everyone, pecks Rose on the cheek, lifts the lid off a pot and sniffs its contents with gusto. "Smells great, Rose!"
She smiles at him and the evening continues on...
The man was a genius at marriage. Still is. Just ask Rose.
If I ever get to be a grandfather, I want to be like Grandpa Joe. There's a man who knows how to pamper his (real and adopted) grandchildren.
You're dead right about passion. It's like a law of physics: the greater the magnitude, the shorter the duration.
What part of EX-husband don't you all understand?
-Peg
HEY, WILBEAU -- DUCK! THIS ONE'S COMING OVER...
Anonymous Peggy--
What part of family history do *you* fail to understand?
Ambiguity a problem for you?
You might suggest to Rose and Joe that they terminate their relationship with us...if you dare.
Otherwise, butt out.
Imagine lurking on a teenager's post and making comments. I believe the term for this pitiful behavior is 'site pest.'
A course in conflict managment and resolution wouldn't hurt, even at your age. We'll even pay for it if that makes it easier.
Otherwise, get a life; go sharpen your harpie claws somewhere else. Somewhere other than here.
gerridyer
Wow. I am amazed and know not what to say. And amused that someone had the bad judgement to tangle with my mother.
At some point, we have to be willing to let some things go. I think Mom has successfully let go of a lot of her problems with Rose--at least, that's been my understanding. What this has to do with any "ex-husband" business is inconsequential. Get a life, Peggy--one that involves not stirring up family pain of which you are not a part.
How'd she get my URL, anyway...?
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