Husband is home for the weekend and is going to stay for two nights, maybe three. The trouble is that he and I are having to keep this a bit of a secret from the various family and friends who say this is a bad idea. I almost feel as if I have kidnapped him! This was our conversation on the way home:
Husband: Does anyone know?
Me: Not yet. I thought I’d get you home first.
Husband: H and L think it’s unfair on you.
Me: Well, you’re fine now but we both know you won’t be that fine later and it’ll get hard – you know when you can’t walk and all that. And the nights – if you call me more than three times I’ll take you straight back (laughing).
Husband: Actually it’s not so bad there you know.
Me: I know.
Husband: So what’s for dinner? I’m starving.
Me: You just had lunch!
Husband: Is there any of your mother’s Christmas cake left?
Me: Ah, that’s a good idea.
Husband: Do you want me to open the gate?
Me: (hopping out of the car) No, I don’t want to wait two hours.
Husband: Such a gentle little soul you are (smiling).
Me: Okay, here we are. I’ll park the car on the lawn so you can get out. Well, come on – hurry up and get out. Oh, just a minute – I’ll give you a hand.
Husband: Careful! You’re so rough.
Me: Okay, here you are – is this okay? (swinging Husband into a chair on the veranda).
Husband: At the other place, two people do that and they’re really gentle.
Me: Yeah, you’re bloody heavy and anyway this is home (grinning).
Husband: It sure is (kissing my hand).
Me: Okay, so who do you want me to ring?
Husband: Actually, let’s not tell anyone until tomorrow (eyes twinkling).
Me: Good idea! Cup of tea?
So this is how we do it. Rolling out the red carpet didn’t work because it felt like Husband was a visitor in his own home so that’s why we rolled it back up and chucked it away. Now, when Husband comes home, I just carry on as normal and do my own thing and so does Son, which is much better than hovering over Husband like a couple of friendly vultures.
One of the things I like about our 3-way relationship is its sometimes ferocious honesty. And the fact that we can all laugh at ourselves and each other.
Me: Okay, so here’s your tea and cake. I’m going to go feed the birds and wake Son up.
Husband: But you haven’t given me a kiss yet.
Me: Oh, sorry, here you go xxx
Husband: Jules.
Me: What now?
Husband: I love you.
Me: Love you too – okay I’ll just be around the back.
Husband: I’m fine – don’t worry about me. Off you go.
I knew that by the time I fed the birds and did the various birdy chores, Husband would be asleep in the chair (he is very good at sleeping upright), so I took my time, had a stupid little cry, pulled myself together, and went back to the front veranda. It was 5pmish.
Me: Wake up sleepy head. Beer or champagne?
Husband: What are you having?
Me: You know what I’m having.
Husband: Okay, you have your beer and I’ll have a champagne.
I’m glad I kidnapped him!
jmgoyder 
Heartwarming post.
Took my husband to the hospital today for a little virus and thought of you as we sat around the hospital all day and your recent experiences with your hospital visits. I was feeling I was a bit gruff to husband knowing his drama was so very temporary and didn’t fuss over him much….
It made me laugh to read this-
“Me: (hopping out of the car) No, I don’t want to wait two hours.
Husband: Such a gentle little soul you are (smiling).”
The hovering and red carpet bit makes a lot of sense. You seem to be pretty good at learning as you go.
I had to laugh at your gruffness with your husband! Thanks so much for your great comment.
The love shines through 🙂
Sometimes through gritted teeth – hehe!
Remember this? Don’t know how long ago I wrote it. Your love story:
A child named Juli,
Rosy-cheeked and freckled
In love with life and living things.
Grows up, leaves home and goes to university.
But scared to be so far away eventually comes home.
Her Dad says, “Later, maybe.”
Old lady – stroke.
“Why don’t you go?”
So every day
On rusty bike, she pedals 15 k.
The farm – old lady – strict, imperious, harsh
But Juli doesn’t mind.
The son, a farmer strong and bronzed
Big, friendly laugh.
She falls in love.
He thinks of her as Child,
For so she is, in age, to him.
Old lady dies with Juli at her side.
The family stays away.
Too hard.
The Man has moved inside her heart.
She leaves for study – Eastern States.
Phone rings.
Her father – dead.
Come home.
The shock too great to bear.
The Man becomes her father for a while.
She moves to Nursing.
Fresh new start.
The Man stays somewhere in her heart.
A jillaroo up north
A change of scene
The Man stays closely in her heart.
Then London calls.
A Nanny for a time.
The Man stays firmly in her heart.
To university, a second chance.
Success. Doors open, a flurry of ideas.
The Man stays softly in her heart.
Degrees, diplomas, accolades in academic life.
New loves, new life.
The Man is somewhere in her heart.
The Man wakes up,
As if from sleep.
He turns, he weeps, he loves.
He sees the Child, now Woman
And his need.
She turns once more to him.
The circle is complete.
And now the two go forward into life,
The sixteen years as one,
The future theirs to take. Meg Lane.
I hesitated to ‘approve’ this comment because it’s so personal but oh well what the hell – thanks Ma for your beautiful words.
Beautiful words from Meg … see where you get you poetic prowess from …
Yeah, she’s pretty special isn’t she!
poetic prowess Julie
Thx!
Is that one of the birds you fed? I wish I had birds to feed like that!
Yes – he is one of our many peacocks. He’s only a teenager and is still growing his feathers!
A beautiful little vignette of your life as you’re living it – a privilege to read it.
Thanks!
This is my favourite post Jules. I just read it to the knds and they completely “got” it. In a not unselfish way, I have been longing for some glimpses of joy in this for you all.
I miss you guys – thanks for liking the post – yeah it’s all good – well, kind of!
It’s great you both still have a sense of humor and can make fun of the situation.
Son is not so inclined to laugh at moment – alas!
Oh Julie how beautiful and tender. I love that you Kidnapped Husband. Can I just now apologize for being so informal a bit ago and called you Jules so obviously his name for you I feel awful so please forgive me?
Enjoy your weekend, stay incognito. You owe no one a thing. None of the three of you. Its about what pleases each of you, this weekend for three.
I love being called Jules- by anybody at all! Thank you so much, Baroness!
I’m so glad. Jules it is, it felt right at the time but then reading this post… as I said, so glad.
I have been called worse – hehe!
you’re funny. Hey, me too…
There is no shame in crying. Balancing the needs and expectations of everyone is an impossible task. And yet we try. Glad you are taking time out for yourself.
You are so lovely – thanks Linda!
I really enjoyed the “conversation” – I feel like I know you two!
Yeah – we’re pretty good together – thanks baharvey!
What a lovely picture of your life together. It’s in the ordinary things that the love shines through – anyone can rise to a difficult occasion; it’s getting on with the mundane living that exposes our real characters.
I’m so glad I found your blog.
You are so right about the mundane thing. That is sometimes more of a challenge than anything else. You are wise!
I love it when you share. I’m sorry that some are against your having Husband home. They don’t understand the need. We went through two years of “well meaning” neighbors who gave us grief over letting my mother-in-law stay in her home. The circumstances were much different, but the effect it had on the “well meaning” people was the same. Sigh.
When all is said and done we wouldn’t have had it any other way.
xo, Lynda
Mostly people are just concerned about my own well-being so I am very grateful for that.
Julie,
What a lovely man. I have such a sweet sadness for your husband. My dad passed 2-1/2 years ago from Parkinsons and demensia. I helped my mom with his caregiving until she couldn’t any more. Yes, we cried, too, but found so much joy in the journey. I still cry. I started my blog the fall after Dad died and wrote a little about it.
Your conversations remind me so much of my friend Helen from Ireland. 🙂 She makes me laugh, she’s so gruff. Better than being syrupy.
Prayers and hugs to you both.
Debbie
Yes, I find that gruff is better than syrupy – well said and thanks! Very sorry for your loss of your dad.
P.S. It’s a wonderful idea to bring him home often. It assures him that you’re ok and that he still has a place called home, even if he’s not there so often. It’s where he relaxes since there’s relatively little privacy where he stays.
Sorry you have to carry two heavy burdens at the moment. I’ll double my prayers for you.
Debbie
Thank you very much, Debbie!