point of view
It's been borne in on me that I far too often view the death of the twins as my own personal tragedy. I discount the effect on L. I forget that they were his twins too. And my narrow view is encouraged by his silence. His tolerance for discussing the twins is even less than mine. And that's saying a lot.
But today, I left L at a café, his books stacked on the table and the other chair, while I went to do a little shopping and sightseeing. When I came back, carrying a couple of children's books about the history of France, he looked up from whatever he was working on and made some comment about something that happened the first summer we were married. I told him he'd gotten the date wrong and he disagreed and we went back and forth until he finally looked it up on line and it turned out that he was right and I was wrong. And he said something else and I laughed and he laughed. It was all very ordinary. I just couldn't remember the last time it happened.
18 comments:
That sounds good. My husband rarely talks about things either. One of the reasons as I've mentioned that the blog helps so much.
Sounds like a wonderful afternoon - I hope you have more of them.
Josh is more reticent than me as well, and I sometimes feel like I think of it all as my pain, my stress. And then he'll have a rough day or night and I remember he's been hurt too.
I'm just so glad the two of you could laugh together!
Sounds like my DH too. Sometimes I wish he would talk about it so I know that he feels the pain too. I always thought that it would be nice to seem him cry every know and then, but the other day on the anniversary when we were making the messages to insert in the balloons he completely broke down. It was weird. I now much prefer that he just act as he normally does. I guess you just have to trust L. that he does remember things and make note of things, even if it may not appear that way. It would all be a lot easier if we could just read minds. Glad that you two had a laugh, as ordinary as it was. Nice pics btw.
It made me so happy to read that. I am so glad for you that you had this perfectly ordinary afternoon.
Oh this is such a good thing!
Men feel and move through the stages of pain differently I think. It is such a great thing that the two of you are beginning to move forward together as a couple and have those little moments of normality such as this one.
The sound of sharing a laugh with your husband after such hard times is lovely, indeed. Enjoy...
Enjoy your laughter, Niobe! There was a period where I so savored so much when I laughed or smiled, because they were few and far between.
I have never met L., but there is something about him that I like.
Perhaps it is that he reads Philip Roth in Paris?
Someone told me pregnancy loss hits men harder: they lose baby(s), but they also lose their spouse, who is almost destroyed by the loss of the baby(s).
vacations sometimes help that to happen. I hope it keeps happening. As always, fantastic pictures.
The best moments together are not planned but spontaneous and that is what you had...a very spontaneous intimate moment together! I am sure that moment was one to remember :)
I've also been missing casual laughter in my marriage...I'm glad you got a bit of it back!
There was a time when A. and I had a kind of two-person routine we'd fall into when we were with friends. Not so much anymore.
Why is it called a macro when it really seems like a micro? Yours are so good. I forgot to add kick-ass photographers to my list of too cool bloggers I know.
I got pissy and caused B to go on the defensive a few days ago. I laughed at myself, and he laughed, too. Works better than the silent treatment. I'll have to remember that. I'd rather do it in Paris, though. Good for you.
Glad you had this moment of normalcy. Sometimes I think I might have forgotten how to laugh, but when it creeps into our lives, I have the same reaction that you did: wow, when did that last happen?
As for the grieving thing, my husband is much more able to talk about my twins than I am. I never bring it up, but he's able to. He's just not as icy as I am (a good thing, I think).
It is funny that you never desire the norm until you have lost it. When you had it you could not appreciate it.
I'm happy for you, for the good time you had. May it keep coming. Do you think L is trying to be strong for you, or is it just the way he processes what has happened (or both)?
Have a safe trip home.
Amelie: This is just how L deals with difficult things. He ignores them and hopes they'll go away. He had a difficult childhood, so I can see where the pattern comes from. I can also see it in myself.
i also talk about it more, he wants to but its hard, he's starting to now though but now no-one wants to hear it ... like there is a timeframe for grief ...
Post a Comment