My husband is washing the dishes so I can write my blog post. This is true love, People. TRUE LOVE. Last Friday I had my wisdom teeth removed. They call it “oral surgery,” but I call it mouth torture. I’ve been crying like a baby to anyone and everyone who will listen ever since. This means mostly my husband, who I suspect is only pretending to listen at this point, but I will take what I can get. Tomorrow is the follow-up visit. I am dreading the moment when the surgeon asks me to open my mouth wide because it is going to hurt. My jaw is still recovering from being propped open for 90 minutes while extractions were made. I might bring Tiny-Small into the exam room with me tomorrow. If she thinks her momma is getting hurt she will embark upon the worst shin-kicking campaign any dental professional as ever had to endure. If that doesn’t work, she will dismantle his office by entertaining each and every curiosity she has ever had. She’s like a one-woman wrecking crew. She can take a room apart in seconds flat. She is that good.
Anyway, I was talking about true love. My husband loves me. I have proof: he washes the dishes so I can stare into space and search for words to describe our romance. This is what married life is all about. When one person’s best is less than sub-par, the other one picks up the slack. Without asking me a thing, he made dinner, put Tiny-Small to bed and started cleaning up the kitchen. Without a single complaint. Without a single loud sigh in my direction. I am pretty sure that is the definition of true love.
It seems like the older we get the more often we take turns being broken. First he had eye surgery and then I had dental surgery. First I washed the dishes, then he washed the dishes. It’s all about partnership and being on a team. I am really glad I have this network of support in my tiny family. Even Miss Buttercup gave me kisses on each cheek in the hopes it would make my pain go away faster. I have so much gratitude for these creatures I live with. Some became my family willingly, some were born into it and had no choice (well, only one really) and some have four legs and way too much fur. They bring me joy and laughter daily. Even though laughing kind of hurts right now, I am happy to keep doing it anyway.
So, from my medicated brain to yours I hope you have a nice strong family surrounding you in times of trouble and need. We all need people to support us through our trials and tribulations. When I say family I am not just talking about those who share your genetic material. Family to me includes all of the people you love and who love you back. The people who show up to help you do the dirty work…those are the people with true love in their hearts. Hold them close, my friends. They are like rare gems in a field of cubic zirconias. They are like emeralds in a sea of fake, plastic pearls. They are like life preservers at the local swimming pool on a hot, over-crowded summer day. They are like dish washers when your dishwasher is broken and your teeth have been ripped out of your head and all you want to do is lie down.
I hope you get my point. I am rambling about true love. Make sure you have some in your life. I probably could have written this blog post in three sentences. Pain killers are probably an editors worst nightmare. Oh well, good thing I don’t have one!