Carried

Let the Healing Begin

The other night I was exhausted. I sat slumped and heavy lidded on the sofa while some mindless drivel leaked from the TV. Steve said, "C'mon, Sleepy Girl... let's go to bed." In the wheedling voice that any three year old has mastered, I said, "Carry me." (Of course, this wasn't going to happen. I've never been one of those petite women that men like to hoist around. It just isn't in the cards. I wouldn't wish me on anyone's back!)

There are times when we have to allow others to carry us. I'm really lousy at that. I'm the one who takes care of people. I'm the one who makes sure everyone is comfortable. I very rarely ask for help. It's hard for me to accept anyone's help, hard for me to allow anyone to take care of me. I'm the one who says, "I'm fine." Even when I'm not. I was taught at a young age that "no one wants to know your woes, you put a smile on it and quit complaining." So I cover well. I'm quite the actress. Like a badly made casserole, I smother it all with a sense of humor (cheese) and make it palatable.

So, this past year with Steve has been a huge adjustment for me, because he does take care of me in so many ways. Never mind that he handles all the household finances while I'm playing artist and pretending that someday I'll be a well-paid artist. I can't begin to tell you what that kind of support means to me. He makes me breakfast on the weekends. He rubs my feet. He'll do anything to make me comfortable and happy. I'm still learning to accept that.

Sometimes we need to allow others to carry us. Sometimes it's best if we do. I don't know how I could have made it through this past year without Steve. I certainly wouldn't have done as well as I have. I definitely wouldn't have had the artistic freedom that I've had. I've stopped waiting for the other shoe to drop. I know he's there for me as solid and sure as these mountains I love.

A while back I listed the things he's done for me and thanked him. Then I asked, "But... what's in it for you?" He held me a little tighter and said, "You're here."

Love like that will carry me forever. I'm learning to enjoy the feel of air beneath my feet.