Her

And now abideth faith, hope, and love, even these three: but the chiefest of these is love.

1 Corinthians 13:13

It was 3:30 AM and my legs were aching. Just finished two full out on the go day’s at work. Difficult days. Stressful days, filled with many complicated puzzles. But good, real, real good. I work with a team that makes it, a dare I say it, pleasure.

Anywho, I couldn’t sleep anymore, it was like my body just wanted to be up. So I am up.

Just now, out on the stoop, and for some reason, MsB popped into my head. I realized that I don’t talk about her a lot. I suppose because I haven’t known how. The more I get to know her you know Mom? The more she surprises me.

With her energy, her fire inside. She, no word of a lie, she sounds just like GrandmaN when she speaks. Like, speaks two words. Oh, and her sweet southern ways. She charms you, within minutes of being in her presence.

She is kind. Yet, beneath that sturdy veneer of quiet grace, lies a strong inner core. Her respect towards all beliefs does not keep her from being devoted to her own.

She brings with her faith.

She says grace at every meal. Whether just to herself, or right out loud in the middle of a restaurant. Each meal you share with her has a sweeter flavour, a more enticing aroma.

One time we were at the Swiss Chalet, and she says “now you go on and eat“.

Dad turns to her “what about grace”.

She’s like, “I said it“.

Dad’s says “well I didn’t hear you”.

She’s like, “God did”.

And the wonderful thing about her, is she loves Dad. God help her, but she really does.

I know you know all this, I guess I just need to write about it. Write about her.

Though she comes off as this demure, sweet southern lady, she is far more than that. I think maybe in a way she has also found this Canadian second home gives her a bit of freedom.

You know how the south can be. The traditional mindsets that inhabit many of those southern communities.

She says as soon as they cross the border, first place Dad stops is Tim Horton’s for a coffee. She says it’s like a homing device he has. She doesn’t really understand Tim Horton’s.

OH, and she LOVES poutine. But, how can’t you love fries slathered in hot steamy gravy, topped with cheese curds?

She also says that she know’s she’s in Ontario by the number of girls who “cuss“.

And she’s a dog charmer. They respect her. With her soft firm tone, they do her bidding. “Auot of the kitchen” she’ll say, and out they go.

And I love that on their wedding day when she turns to Lex and says “you know, I’ve been waiting 47 years to marry your father“. And I found out their song is “I Wanna Hold Your Hand” by The Beatles. And Dad says…”but I wanted to do more than that….ar ar ar”. Haha.

You know, back then, that winter after he went home, finishing up his National Guard service, and meets her. They dated, what? A few weeks? Something happened. Neither one says they remember what. But I know they both remember what.

And so they both went off and married other people. Made families. And then they find themselves widows years later And how do you love after love?

And being down there, he’s grown very close to his brother. They get together at least once a week for coffee, and to talk.

She’s changed everything, and I suppose perhaps there would be those who would be jealous of her taking their father away. But not us. She makes him happy.

And really, what more could one want for their father? And I know you were worried about him. But he’s got this Mom. He’s good.

Her quiet, gentle ways sooth him. Her force of will moves him. And her energy lights a candle underneath him, to do more, go places, see things. With gentle nudges, she tries to move mountains. And she succeeds sometimes.

And the two of them give me hope. You know? Love after Love, it’s hard. But it is possible.
Those are her three virtues.

Faith, Hope and Love.

Day off, and going to go out and find some Tiger Balm to sooth my aching leg muscles. Irish is snoring away right now on the bed. Later on, I suppose I’ll have to muster some energy to give the fluffy bastard a nice walk. Weather is supposed to wallop us again with some winter on Wednesday eve, and that work-a-day will be another full-out sorta day, so I may not care to be out about.

Love,
PaulaB

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3 thoughts on “Her

  1. Pingback: Why I Love Emotionally Unavailable Men – The Temenos Journal

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