Bees in My Bonnet

  It didn’t happen all at once, like in the fairy tales. By it, I mean love. Not what people think of when they think ‘love.’ Not the love that flutters the heart and weakens the knees. The love grew over time when the caught breath and hormonal impulses had found their proper place, behind the choice and mature yielding of the soul to another.  The man loved his woman until it ached. He got up each day, though weary and less than thrilled with his daily labours, and set out to win the bread for the home, wife, and children. The job was interesting on some level. It suited his gifts, a luxury to be sure. In the early days he had resented having to work. How much he’d rather fill his life with more meaning, more purpose, more self-pursuits. But he loved his woman, his family. He needed to serve their needs before his whims. He dedicated himself to providing, and it was his privilege to do so.  He might have pursued a perfect life, where every endeavour was perfectly suited...

 23 years ago today I woke up and felt miserable - I think I had vomitted in the night and I phoned Sam first thing in the morning. "I don't think I can get married today," I said. This was, of course, disheartening to him. But I gingerly drank some weak tea, handed my Dad a folded up plastic bag to keep in his pocket while he walked me down the aisle, and proceeded to prepare for our wedding later that day. It was Easter Sunday - a day full of hope, joy, and resurrection celebration. Maybe I was hoping that Easter would represent our marriage - the resurrection power of Christ infused into our union. Easter is a day of hope fulfilled, faith becoming sight, the unbelievable becoming real. That's essentially what I felt marriage was going to be.  And I don't intend to dampen the romantic notions I had but I must say, these were indeed, romantic sentiments. Marriage has turned out to be gritty, challenging, (rewarding, yes!), hard work, stretching, painful, on the n...

Pull up a chair and let's have a frank conversation about sex. Or don't. This is my disclaimer section where I tell you that if you are not married, and sex isn't available to you to give or receive, then most likely you should just stop reading here and go on about your day. On the other hand, you could just simply be curious about the inner workings of marital intimacy and have no struggle with sexual desires - and in that case, use your discretion. I do have some thoughts on sex and the single person and ways to live with unfulfilled desire, but that is beyond the scope of today's topic. Some people are squeamish when it comes to full disclosure about bedroom activities (sexual expression in marriage). Sex is, understandably, a deeply intimate, personal and private matter. It's nobody's business what you like, how you like it, and what you and your spouse engage in with what frequency and such. Because of these factors, so often nothing gets said about sex...

I have often said my love language is "Being Right" and people laugh until they realize I'm not kidding - I am actually serious.  That led me to reflect on the 5 Love Languages and come up with 5 that they seemed to miss.  I consider the 5 Love Languages as kind of a primer - like the primary colours, and my 2nd 5 as the more nuanced, but no less significant love languages.  I won't comment what I think of the book, its author or why I like or dislike the concept.  I only mention it because my 5 kind of tag on to the first 5. Just an overview: The 5 Love Languages promotes the idea of learning and speaking both your own and your loved one's love 'language' - the way he or she primarily receives and gives love, in the most intuitive sense.  The 5 are described as: 1. Words of Affirmation (whether spoken or written) 2. Acts of Service 3. Gifts 4. Quality Time 5. Physical Touch Once you have those down - in that you understand how to use them to...

Dear frustrated woman, So you did it.  You took charge.  You showed him.  Good for you. I understand - really, I do (on some level).  You watch him fill his body with junk.  You worry.  You beg, plead, convince, connive, determine what to do.  You love him SO much - you just wish he would consider how much you need him to be healthy - or at least try to be. A recent blog post was written to the man who got his Doritos whipped out from under his unsuspecting nose.  He then was presented with celery and health food. Now, it's your turn. And I, for one, don't condone what you did.  And I'm a wife. Let me make something clear to you: people rarely change when they are forced to.  And, when forced, the changes may be obvious and external, but rarely does inner change come about because someone was forced into it.  It CAN happen - like in prison.  But I'm not sure I'd advise it or call it ideal by any measure. I get th...

Sarah, I want to write lots to answer everything from your emails, but the more I write the more you have questions, so the more you write, then I have so many questions and the more I write. I wonder if eventually we'll stop having questions and we'll run out of things to talk about. I won't begin to answer your last email. It may take a long time. Samuel -------------------------------------------------------------- Samuel, I don't feel as if we'll run out of things to talk about. You've lived 25 years. I've lived 22 years. That's a lot to talk about! Sarah ___________________________________________ October 13 1999 Dear Sam, I have your emails printed out. There's so much in them and I want to respond to it all! I'm starting with yesterdays, and will probably only cover them in this email, so today's will have to wait until tomorrow. How's that for confusing? I know I've known yo...

So, I'm stuck in the middle of the story - sorry folks, I'll continue in due time. I just don't know why it always gets a week past the burglary and I'm befuddled as to how to explain that we got engaged just a short 5 weeks later. I mean, it is taking me longer to write it than it took to happen. I do intend to continue. Call it writers' block. Pregnancy brain. Four kids, a mother-in-law and a husband on a business trip. This, I tell myself, is not the time to update the blog. So thank you for indulging me, and being patient. Just to give you a preview of coming attractions, Sam did not really have an interest in me for the first two weeks after the burglary. Sounds like not a long time, I know, but at the time when I look back I didn't know it would only be two weeks. I thought he would be another in a long line of my 'hopefuls' (me being the hopeful one). Maybe it wasn't such a long line. There had actually only been 2 or 3 in my life...

So we had our first couple of emails. They were inspiring. They warmed my heart. But I knew that Sam was just a purely nice guy who was trying to be an encouragement to me and I guessed he was trying his best to make sure nothing other than an offer of friendship was communicated. Though I guess I hoped differently! Although what with the crazy sleep patterns and lack of eating I was such a wreck I couldn't sort out any emotion or register any kind of emotion other than numbness and fear. After all the events of the following few weeks people's impressions were that it was a 'whirlwind romance' and that I was head-over-heels and the relationship was all consuming. Well, I will grant it did kind of become all consuming, as relationships tend to be at the outset (and following, depending!) But as for head-over-heels - sorry all you romantics out there - but that I was not. Let me take you back to the night of the burglary. I had HAD an interest in Sam, our handsome house...