Day 2: Saying, "I love you".

Saying, “I love you” isn’t always done with those three little words.  In fact it’s often the other stuff that happens in a marriage that tells us that we are loved. My husband just recently told me very strongly that he loved me by saying, “We need to get you a new pair of shorts.”  Knowing how this translates into a loving statement takes a little explaining…

I hadn’t been feeling well for about a year and a half and finally got around to having X-rays, MRI’s, physical therapy, and finally a specialist.  At which point I was told I needed back surgery.  It was a very scary prospect for me to face surgery.  As old as I am I’ve never had to have any and the idea of someone mucking around in my spine had me shying away from the idea.  That is until my condition got so bad that I couldn’t sit, I couldn’t stand, and I couldn’t sleep at night.  At that point all I could do is say, what’s the worse that can happen?  I’m not living a life as it is so, let’s do the surgery!

So, while I was frightened to death, my husband seemed to be handling it all a cool as a cucumber.  He’d had a few surgeries early in his life so I figured he looked at it as just another procedure.  As the surgery date approached, I became depressed.  I numbered all the things I wouldn’t be able to do after the surgery instead of looking at the positive side of things.  But my husband continued on as if nothing were different.

Then, a week before my surgery I was offered the opportunity to go with my husband to a lovely, little place called Salter Beach, NC.  He was leading a training there and suggested I come along to, “clear my head and relax”.   

I had the entire inlet to myself.  I don’t think I saw more than two people the whole time I was there.  It was an off time during the work week so the vacationers weren’t there yet and with Joshua working from 8am-9pm I was left all to myself.  One of the first things I did was go purchase a pair of shorts so that I could lounge on the beach and at the pool.  Since I hadn’t anticipated how warm it would be I hadn’t packed any other shorts. 

Before I knew it the vacation was over and I was packing my bag for the surgery.  In it I packed my new Salter Beach shorts.  They were easy to put on and take off and wouldn’t hit my surgery site.  Well, the surgery went off without a hitch and I went home to the care of my mother and husband.  Then, months and months later, Joshua and I decide to take the day to enjoy the fact that I’m feeling better and to enjoy a rare warm weather day. 

I pull out my Salter Beach shorts and haven’t even finished buttoning them when my husband stops dead in his tracks and looks at me in a way I don’t ever recall him looking at me before. 

“We’re going to have to get you a new pair of shorts.” He says.  As if there’s no room for argument. It’s completely out of character for him to act this way so I decide I’m going to get to the bottom of this.

“Why?” I ask.  “I thought these were kind of cute.” I look down at my legs wondering if I’d missed a spot shaving.

“No, they’re cute.” He says his coloring going a little sickly.

“Do I look funny in them?” I ask.  I’m now wondering if he’s trying to kindly tell me that I look bad.  So I twist around to check out my behind…which I can do again after the surgery.

“No, you look fine in them.”

“So, what’s the problem?” I ask getting a little grumpy with the interrogation.  Can’t he just come out and say what the problem is?

“I associate them with your surgery.” He says.

All along I thought he hadn’t a care in the world about my surgery.  But really, he had been internalizing all of his anxiety…just to spare me.  He’d come to associate those shorts with his fear of the unknown. His fear of what might happen to me and his inability to keep me safe. They represented my pain before the surgery, and my slow recovery afterwards.

*By the way, I’ve kept the shorts.  I don’t wear them anymore, just to spare Joshua, but I do keep them in a drawer.  They remind me of just how much my husband loves me.