Well, hubby is off work this week for vacation, so we went to the antique mall where I have a booth. We had planned to do some work in the booth but got there a little late for that, because the mall is huge and I also wanted to shop. So I thought to myself…..”work in the booth? or shop?”…….and of course shopping won out. We shopped, while he pushed me in the wheelchair….I bought a few things. The work I had planned to do was nothing urgent, and can be done during the next visit.
We stopped at Menards on the way home and picked up a few things. Got home and was late for my second dose of meds. Popped them as soon as I walked in the door. Came home to another order on Ruby Lane, so tonight I spent a couple hours packing up a couple items for a nice lady, a repeat customer that has recently come to my online shop….she’s bought a lot of my items so far. It’s always rewarding when a person comes back time and time again to purchase from me. It’s why I love my job so much.
During the packing, my husband, who was sitting across from me at the table, was making a few “helpful” comments about how maybe I should do it “this way” and try doing that “that way”…..bless his heart….I guess it hit me as being a tad annoying (since I’ve been packing orders for 17 years, I think I know what I’m doing by now) and so I said something I should not have said, I told him he reminded me of my 82 year old mother who, when in the passenger seat of my van, always points out red lights, which lane I should be in, to slow down, to speed up, to turn left, to turn right…..well I said that he reminded me of her, just sort of laughing….stupidly not realizing that the words I spoke were hurtful, not funny. He stopped a minute, looked down, and said….Ohhhh-kayy…. and then got quiet and turned on the television and backed off.
I thought at first that he was being a little ridiculous, that he should have known I didn’t intend to hurt his feelings…. even though it was irritating to me to be told how to wrap a package, when I am fully capable and totally aware of what I am doing (I can wrap a package in my sleep). But shortly after, I realized that I indeed DID hurt his feelings and I wished that I’d kept my big stupid mouth shut.
This man of mine has been nothing but kind and thoughtful, helpful and supportive, throughout all that has happened to me in the past 30 years. He has always been there for me, always tried to make my life easier, telling me, Hey it’s okay if you don’t feel like cooking dinner, I’ll make myself a bowl of cereal….or things of that nature. Totally giving and caring. Selfless.
And then there’s me. A person who takes help when I want it, shuns help when I don’t. A person that is glad she has a husband who takes an interest in her job and tries to give support and offer help….yet when he tries to join in and be a part of the process, if for no other reason than to just be with me in the moment, and with me in the experience….with my poor timing and bad choice of words, I smash his sensitive heart.
He’s not the type to pout for long, and even though I know that my words did hurt his feelings, he just picks himself up and forgets it….and we proceed to move into tentative dialogue once again after a short time. He knows me so well. He knows I am not real tactful sometimes. I am not used to having him around most of the time since he works about 10 hours a day, and since he is on vacation this week, it’s just crowding my space and my usual solitude (which I cherish) is on hold. It’s an interesting dynamic to share all of my time and space with another human being, no matter how nice of a person he is, when I am sort of a loner in many ways. Sometimes I think to myself that I am not really a person that was probably meant to cohabit with another person. My moods swing pretty drastically most days (whether I’m alone or with him) and then I feel like such a shit if it happens when he is home and in the line of fire.
But he knows that. He’s known it for a long time, and he deals really well with my crazy issues. Because we have discussed in the past where all this stuff comes from….it’s from 30 YEARS of daily/hourly pain, aggravation, irritation, annoyance, and anger at the symptoms of my chronic illnesses. When several of those symptoms are hitting me at once (which is very often), I snap at him, I get mad at myself, I get mad at what I can’t do when I want to do it, I pretty much throw tantrums, like a child. And then I get over it and move on. I am trying not to allow my explosive reactions to happen without restraint. I am trying to keep a handle on my feelings, and especially I’m trying not to hurt the only person who has ever stood by me and loved me and cared for me completely and consistently and truly. It breaks me down to the ground when I realize the things he’s had to endure because of my lack of self-control and because of the build up of the stress of being sick all the damn time.
He is a good man, and I know he forgives me. Now if I could only forgive myself.