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The "L" Word
Jun. 24th, 2014 09:38 pmHe said it first.
We had a kind of a roller-coaster of a day. I came over early, but after they got the kids off to camp, and we had grown up fun time until we were starving for lunch. Ate lunch, picked up kids, and went to see a film as a family.
2/3 of the way through the film, she got a phone call with awful news. A good friend of hers passed away abruptly, without warning. She was just destroyed by this news, and he and I worked to get the kids bundled into the car to go home. I pulled him aside and offered to take the kids to dinner to give her some space to deal, and to let him be there for her. They both agreed; this was a good idea. So I took the littles to a local Steak n Shake for dinner and kept them entertained and got them fed.
Took a call from my MP during dinner; that sparked questions I wasn't sure how to answer. I gave the slippery answers; Yes, he's my husband. Yes, you've met him but it was a while ago. No, he's not in town. No, we're not divorced or separated. Yes, he's coming home eventually. No, I'm not going to talk about that now. I knew that I needed to talk to their parents about what the answers needed to be for these questions.
Anyway, I also called home and let them know that the kids were incoming (bedtime was approaching.) I talked the kids down and suggested some good, loving choices that they might want to make, because their mom was sad.
For getting a visit from Auntie Lolly, seeing a movie, going to camp, and getting to go out for burgers to eat, they were remarkably well-behaved when I got them home.
We got the kids bundled off to bed, and I needed to get home because I had prep for my trip to manage. She thanked me for my help, and I gathered my things to leave. He helped me get out the door and just stopped me, hugging me, kissing me and looking at me. Looking at me with his soul in his eyes and reaching for me. He thanked me, over and over, hugging me and telling me how glad he was for my help with the kids. He then looked me in the eye and told me that he loved me.
I responded with, "Awww. I love you too, sweetie. All of you."
And out the door I went.
I got ready for my trip, but obsessed about that conversation. Was this going to be a bomb that blows up in my face? Was she going to be mad that he and I had exchanged the "L" word? Was she going to feel left out? Did I do the right thing?
So I took a breath.
I thought about it.
And I composed a love letter for each of them. One for him, thanking him for opening this door. Telling him why I love him in particular. Telling him why I love his relationship with her, and how I feel about his family. Telling him that I have loved him, and her, for a long time and will continue to do so no matter what configuration our relationship takes in the future. I spoke of the spiritual nature of our connection and what the Goddess is telling me.
One for her, telling her that I love her, have loved her a long time, and that she holds great power over me. Telling her what a great mother she is, and how she walks through the world leaving beauty in her wake. (She wants that phrase on her tombstone.) I spoke about how she impresses me and how I admire her accomplishments, including her excellent parenting, art, and marriage.
In both letters, I shared my thoughts and feelings about my MP's return, and my faith and hope that what I have with them will not be diminished by his return to my life. I also encouraged them to read each others' letters.
Just before I went to bed, the night before leaving early to drive to New Orleans with my mom, I pulled the trigger on those emails.
In the morning, I packed up the car and checked my email "just in case".
She'd read her letter.
She'd responded.
And she was touched. Pleased. Weeping with joy and happiness. Overcome.
She told me she loves me.
And the rest of the tightness in my chest eased.
She loves me.
Later, he responded as well. He, too, had a hard time articulating how he felt after reading that letter, but assured me that it was all good and that he was really touched by it.
He loves me.
Those kids love me.
They're going to let me love them, all of them.
After the brief hiccup over the weekend, and our discussion thereafter, I no longer hold any fear that I will be arbitrarily cast aside. Our relationship may adapt and change, but this is for real. And it is working. It's functioning.
Love makes all the difference.
We had a kind of a roller-coaster of a day. I came over early, but after they got the kids off to camp, and we had grown up fun time until we were starving for lunch. Ate lunch, picked up kids, and went to see a film as a family.
2/3 of the way through the film, she got a phone call with awful news. A good friend of hers passed away abruptly, without warning. She was just destroyed by this news, and he and I worked to get the kids bundled into the car to go home. I pulled him aside and offered to take the kids to dinner to give her some space to deal, and to let him be there for her. They both agreed; this was a good idea. So I took the littles to a local Steak n Shake for dinner and kept them entertained and got them fed.
Took a call from my MP during dinner; that sparked questions I wasn't sure how to answer. I gave the slippery answers; Yes, he's my husband. Yes, you've met him but it was a while ago. No, he's not in town. No, we're not divorced or separated. Yes, he's coming home eventually. No, I'm not going to talk about that now. I knew that I needed to talk to their parents about what the answers needed to be for these questions.
Anyway, I also called home and let them know that the kids were incoming (bedtime was approaching.) I talked the kids down and suggested some good, loving choices that they might want to make, because their mom was sad.
For getting a visit from Auntie Lolly, seeing a movie, going to camp, and getting to go out for burgers to eat, they were remarkably well-behaved when I got them home.
We got the kids bundled off to bed, and I needed to get home because I had prep for my trip to manage. She thanked me for my help, and I gathered my things to leave. He helped me get out the door and just stopped me, hugging me, kissing me and looking at me. Looking at me with his soul in his eyes and reaching for me. He thanked me, over and over, hugging me and telling me how glad he was for my help with the kids. He then looked me in the eye and told me that he loved me.
I responded with, "Awww. I love you too, sweetie. All of you."
And out the door I went.
I got ready for my trip, but obsessed about that conversation. Was this going to be a bomb that blows up in my face? Was she going to be mad that he and I had exchanged the "L" word? Was she going to feel left out? Did I do the right thing?
So I took a breath.
I thought about it.
And I composed a love letter for each of them. One for him, thanking him for opening this door. Telling him why I love him in particular. Telling him why I love his relationship with her, and how I feel about his family. Telling him that I have loved him, and her, for a long time and will continue to do so no matter what configuration our relationship takes in the future. I spoke of the spiritual nature of our connection and what the Goddess is telling me.
One for her, telling her that I love her, have loved her a long time, and that she holds great power over me. Telling her what a great mother she is, and how she walks through the world leaving beauty in her wake. (She wants that phrase on her tombstone.) I spoke about how she impresses me and how I admire her accomplishments, including her excellent parenting, art, and marriage.
In both letters, I shared my thoughts and feelings about my MP's return, and my faith and hope that what I have with them will not be diminished by his return to my life. I also encouraged them to read each others' letters.
Just before I went to bed, the night before leaving early to drive to New Orleans with my mom, I pulled the trigger on those emails.
In the morning, I packed up the car and checked my email "just in case".
She'd read her letter.
She'd responded.
And she was touched. Pleased. Weeping with joy and happiness. Overcome.
She told me she loves me.
And the rest of the tightness in my chest eased.
She loves me.
Later, he responded as well. He, too, had a hard time articulating how he felt after reading that letter, but assured me that it was all good and that he was really touched by it.
He loves me.
Those kids love me.
They're going to let me love them, all of them.
After the brief hiccup over the weekend, and our discussion thereafter, I no longer hold any fear that I will be arbitrarily cast aside. Our relationship may adapt and change, but this is for real. And it is working. It's functioning.
Love makes all the difference.
