Sunday, May 22, 2011


After 12.5 years of marriage I finally am beginning to grasp the concept that my husband and I will never peer through the same lenses.  The object of our gazes may be identical but the glass between the frames definitely holds a completely different prescription.

For example:  I walk into my bedroom and find an unmade bed and clothes piled on the floor.  Through my glasses I see a mess just waiting to be tucked away and pulled up neat.  My husband on the other hand sees right through the wrinkled sheets and tossed off clothes.  All he sees is a bed waiting to tuck him in tight with his wife right next to him warm and cozy..........

Example #2:  We are watching a movie, lets just say oh "Gladiator".  Joe's favorite scene is at the end when blood is splattering and swords are stabbing the hero dead.  All the while I am still misty-eyed from the previous scene where the princess and the hero steal a secret kiss in the dimly lit catacombs.

Yet another example:  We have a river-rock fireplace in our family room.  I envision a beautiful sepia canvas print of my three precious children hanging above the fire.  Joe, on the other hand, would love to see a thick wood mantle with a huge rainbow trout and a fly-rod adorning the stone.

We see the same surroundings and scenarios so differently.

Are men really from Mars and women from Venus?

I'm not sure.

What I do know is there is a power struggle with most close-intimate relationships.

I want and yearn for my husband to see things my way.

Instead of treasuring his unique perception, I long to twist and turn, manipulate his prescription to mine.

But my spectacles won't fit him properly and his sight will be blurred through the wrong lenses.

Slowly, oh so slowly, I am beginning to realize that no matter how much he tries to or pretends to, he doesn't see it my way.

And he hasn't since he was a toddling boy.

We are just wired differently, him and I.

Reflecting on this tonight I swallow a bit of my puffed-up pride.

Humility lowers me to my knees as I turn over a piece of my enlarged ego.

I raise my head to the heavens and open my eyes.

Both pupils stare through hope, bright and glorious, upward.

Tasting the freedom of redemption that knocks me down yet fills me up all at the same time.

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