Bachelor Hall
I am conjecturing that Hubs had a long gossip session with his current partner in co-dependency last night. He greeted me at the coffee maker this morning while I washed dishes with a wide awake whisper of, "You ready for some intensity?"
"No," I breathed on my third cleansing breath. "But I am braced. Fire away."
He proceeded to fill me in on the latest news from Bachelor Hall, centered on a friend whom ES grew up with. Hubs and I have radically different memories of this no-longer-young man. I cannae recall many times when Hubs and I shared his company. The few times we did share his company were brief and civil. I cannae recall Hubs ever having kind words to speak about him. This morning was no exception. His current partner in co-dependency is ready to call in Homeland Security. I only hope I am exaggerating in that attempted sarcasm.
The question of which of my sons died first continues to haunt me. During my more meddlesome moments of co-dependency in this long, hard evolution, this man is among the people I have wanted to talk to in recent years. I inserted detachment exercises before I actually tracked him down. I am inserting more detachment exercises as I type. It is not mine to sort.
Mine to sort is the baby crying in the next room and the two elder siblings up way earlier than needed for a school day. Yo, guys! ! ! Don't you know it's a Sunday?
I'm not going to knock my mood indicator all the way back to tears. Yea, the jolt has put a new knot in my gut, but it feels like a potential answer to the haunting question of which of my sons died first. My strictly personal psychopations continue going there, whether I want them to or knot. It's time. The good news is that Hubs and I are still on hug terms.
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I'm a codependent, too, arfie, so I get what you're saying about this long, hard evolution and detachment exercises. So glad that the good news here in the end is that you and Hubs are still on hug terms like you are. Hope the kids slept in once they realized it wasn't a school day because it was Sunday.
Alas, the hugs are far from romantic. A metaphor which seems to be helpful in this phase of healing between Hubs and I is, "Finding directions to each other's libraries." Within this metaphor, Hubs and I are in the same choir with shared goals, but we arenae reading the same books, attending the same conferences or responding from the same sets of social conditioning. Kinda like an Atheist and a Bible Banger trying to solve the education crisis together. Which club is The Owner of The Truth? More proof that none of us is as stupid as all of us?
Color me clueless. . . Beaten crazy bitch wolf on the run. . . Again. . .
The baby went back to sleep. No such luck on the elder sibs. The weather here on the South Plains is downright energizing this morning. I'm channeling the energy into getting ready for the flock increase due in this week. 20 brand new feather babies. They will be between 1 and 4 days old when they arrive. The colorful egg laying chickens tend to be colorful birds and especially cute babies. I'm still quite anxious about whether I have bitten off more than I can chew, but it's too late to back out now. We see what grows.
Hugs and More Hugs as you continue to stand tall in all aspects of the word Arfie....even when tears come, continued prayers for All
Big sis should be delighted with the arrival of the new babies. The rest shall be sorted in time. Support and prayers continue.
Big hug for you Arf…… Seeing new babies is chicken soup for the soul...…. ..I hope that you have some nice rest on this Sunday for all of your sakes sweetie..... Another hug and a blessing....xo