In my determination to write more (and subsequently stay sane) I have joined author Ann Dee Ellis in a memoir writing group. 3 days a week she gives prompts and then for eight minutes we write. Please feel free to join in! Here's my eight minute attempt today:
Today is Christopher's 45th birthday. The first thing anyone notices about my husband is his stature. He's a big guy. Six feet and five inches, bulky, strong arms, long muscular legs, shoulders that shame the Greek Gods. (And an award-winning butt, let me say.)
Yesterday when I was waiting to see my dietician I was reading Psychology Today (as one does in therapist waiting rooms) and I scanned an article about first impressions and all the factors that lead to perceptions. For instance, if you were holding a cold drink when you met someone for the first time, evidence suggests you might find that person cold. Or if you met someone while sitting in a wobbly chair you might find that person imbalanced. So naturally I thought about the first time I met Christopher and I remembered being in vulnerable place (just left my marriage) and when I saw his commanding presence and heard his booming voice, my psychology screamed: HERE IS SAFE.
I wanted to crawl right into his space and hide.
Christopher is cool. Big cool. He's never the fool, never the clown. He's collected and aware. Not much gets past him. He's usually right. He knows a lot about a lot of things. He can be huffy and grumpy and he rolls his eyes when he detects bull. He's not pretentious (unless it comes to cars and art). He's teachable if you can find something he doesn't already know. He's always up-to-date on headlines and pop culture. He can figure anything out it it's mechanical or technical or broken and needs to be nailed, glued or sewed.
The thing that I find sort of funny right now though is the little things in CK's big life--his four little kids, his basement full of tiny collectable toys, his minuscule remote control helicopters (he flies with his huge hands). He's always looking down when you walk around with him because he scavenges for little things--treasures and lost toys. If you come to our house you will see above doorways series of teeny objects--animals or robots or Anime figures etc. And you know they are from Christopher's collection because no one else in our household can reach high enough to put them up there.
No matter how my body expands or shrinks in life, next to my husband I feel like a little thing. And even though he allows me all the space I need in our marriage to be big, I never want to lose how small I feel sometimes next to him, simply because sometimes it's nice to hide.