Relationships

Jimmy Kimmel National FB Unfriend Day

Too funny not to share everywhere, so in case you haven’t seen it (which apparently in years passed, I have not); here’s a good laugh for you – I”m guilty of so many I hope I have FB friends come 11/18!

 

 

And historically, where it started with Jimmy, here!  I’ve always loved William Shatner.

 

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The Lovers March to Eternity

There is so much fire burning within, smoldering wishes for love’s life to begin.

Life again as it was when I was young with our free hearts of passion entwining as one; experiencing the world joined together – souls lit with the promise of plenty forever – an imaginative history created before it begins, these are the things that young hearts believe in.

The embers lost daily to life’s routine this poem starts from loss, sorrow; misplaced dreams.

There is much to be said for the commitment and respect, for the sanctity of marriage so as not to regret, but if you find yourself lost then you must start again and remember what passions were in you as life began.

And then you have no choice for you must decide to take the path well worn and traveled or challenge the ride. I’m not sure what I have in me, the strength or the hope to make my dreams be in this swirling of smoke- it burns, burns my eyes, burdens my soul, weighs me down into restraining control.

I must find again the desire, the longing, the belief; passion and fortitude within me I seek, vulnerability held gently as I fight to hold on. I ask, dare I bask in the prosperous riches of risk -to begin again though I’m still lost in the mist.

Though the scars of careless openness still hang weary on my soul, I remain determined, steadfast and bold.

Still vigilantly marching upon the sublime dogged foes, the constant companions of the “average Joes”, they will have to be sacrificed for my love to be free, they will have to be sacrificed for me to be me.

I will find what I live for!  Valiant, golden and bright! … for I am, forever my Father’s delight.

And with His constant direction of warmth and hope, together my love and I will march to the end of the road; where I’ll look upon your face and thank Heaven above for His unending support of our perilous love.

charroseonline

Growing up Jersey and membership into the New Englander Club

Idyllic. My childhood was idyllic having grown up in, surprise, New Jersey (not what generally comes to mind when you say “idyllic”) in a neighborhood brand new and frequently bathed in muddy streets from the rain as we moved in before the streets were paved and while the saplings were non-existent to slight.

Despite its newness, each arriving family bonded quickly. We all lived in our respective 1960s households and went about our daily lives. For us children that meant playing inexhaustible games of Kick the Can, Hide and Seek, bicycling, building forts in Racklin’s bean field and hunting shark’s teeth in our local creek. They were perfect times, or seemed to be, for our little family of four.

Years later after moving from my beloved childhood home to Massachusetts, a move us kids agreed to but what did we know; in a matter of years my parents were divorced, something I think I sensed was coming and there was a strangeness to the new school and area we lived in. New Jersey held quiet rolling green neighborhoods that were perfect for tribes of kids to run and play and for safe trick-or-treating.  Our new environment was a single, long street that cut a swath through countless trees and boulders; isolating compared to my beginnings.

Life got tougher with the move, its made me stronger, and I’m in the “New Englander”club now, which takes a long time to be accepted into but once accepted, you’re family- GO PATRIOTS!  When I think of the innocence of growing up, it’s always New Jersey and the endless hours of play that went with it.  When I think of that long and arduous road that begins after innocence, that’s those New England years – still important, maybe more important but certainly not remembered quite so fondly.

I hit the ground running in Massachusetts through parental divorce, bullying -my gosh, did I just say that – it just now occurred to me that all those threats to beat me up were bullying – and all the taunts of “Charlie” (nickname for Charlotte) sung to the perfume song theme whenever I walked down the high school hallways was bullying – wow, I’m slow – skipping school, drinking too much – rebelling – all those things that gave my Mother grey hair!

I’ve come out on the other side, with lots of counseling and reflection and with this blog to help me share the legacy that makes me who I am today.

Thanks dear reader for having any interest in how I came to be.

Holmdel, New Jersey

Spring Valley Drive, Holdmel, NJ circa 1963

Our neighborhood as seen from Dad's plane

Our neighborhood as seen from Dad’s plane

Me enjoying our backyard pool on a warm NJ day

Me enjoying our backyard pool on a warm NJ day

Me in front of our Parrish Road house in Georgetown, MA

Me in front of our Parrish Road house in Georgetown, MA circa 1972

Marriage, dating and the communication scale…

So when does a date begin and end?  That’s probably not such a difficult question if you’re single and dating – it ends when you say goodbye – evening or morning it doesn’t matter, at some point you say goodbye.  So much harder to pin down when you’re married.

I love to communicate but not just any kind of communication, I like to go deep – I can talk work and weather and can critique wine and beer or whiskey and just enjoy a good dinner but if I don’t get to communicate deeply with my dinner/drink partner (man or woman), it’s really going nowhere for me.

Frankly, these days sex as sport doesn’t hold much intrigue for me as I prefer a sensual lavish meander complete with “Your Body is a Wonderland” type of focused interaction, that being said, I don’t need to verbally communicate much if there is some sort of action involved …  football, darts, shooting pool, all of those things will entertain me enough to where speaking is not a necessity but that’s just a short term fun fix; at some point I need deep, meaningful communication.  Men, do you need that?  I really have no clue.

So the dilemma – what if you’re a talker, a go deep talker and you’re married to a not so deep talker.  It’s a challenge.

We went to dinner this evening, hubby’s idea and it was a welcome one as with the fires burning and my asthma I literally was stuck in the bedroom all day with the air filter running so I took a chance with the “carrot” of steak and a neat shot of Jack dangling before me.   It was too early for the bar to have any action and no football was on so hubby I got to talking and I was enjoying myself immensely but then we were done with dinner and done with the drinks and suddenly he’s ready to go; like the conversation didn’t hold the importance to him that it did to me,  and I have no idea whether it did or it didn’t – I didn’t ask but as this post indicates, the question is on my mind.

On the way home I had an asthma attack from the smoke so was more focussed on that when we first returned home and by the time I was done hacking up a lung, hubby was in PJs and watching Treehouse Masters.  Now there is nothing wrong with that, so I’m just exploring, learning out loud, there is nothing wrong with that, yet, I felt like I’d been dropped at the virtual doorstep without so much as a kiss goodbye.

This is marriage challenge that I need to explore – so when does a married date end?  And what is a marriage date?  I won’t tackle that tonight, I’m now hunkered upstairs again with the filter running and I’m watching my Criminal Minds as I type.

Communication is important to a relationship but it’s obvious that there are two ends to the spectrum and someday I’ll have to explore (meaning get up the courage to ask) where hubby lies on that scale – I don’t think it’s on the same end as I am.

Thank you, dear reader, for indulging me – please feel free to share your thoughts on the subject – I’d love to hear them!