Wednesday, January 5, 2011

a lot of hwubby to keep up with

no lacking opportunity to cultivate more patience. check this one out. hwubby is to catch a plane that depart at seven twenty in the morning. days prior he says, i'll pack light. when i go to bed the night before after nine the hallway is still littered with stuff and an empty suitcase. what i can do i have already done. his day's travel food, essential food items and vitamins. what about his wardrobe? well, let me put it this way. he is a spontaneous guy and he has specific tastes in style.

anyhow i awake when he drops into bed. it's a quarter to one. i say, as i see the suitcase still empty in the hallway when i am on my way to pee, what time do you have to leave the house? i am holding back the impulse to say, why are you still not packed? the inner self is signaling me, drop it, leave it, let him be responsible for his own actions. so i follow the prompting. i just say, i'll get up at five. he says, i'll be up by then, i'll wake you up. fine. what happens then? i dream a vivid, bright, fantastic dream. when i emerge from it it is about the same moment he sits up on his side of the bed. i ask, what time is it? after a moment i hear him say, o, no, it's eight after five. boom. we are instantly awake. i hold the burning question until he is about to step out of the house a couple of minutes after six. you didn't hear the alarm go off? he says, yeah, i must have slept through it.

he leaves the house with these. a suitcase to check in, a super heavy tumi briefcase all expanded, a tote bag of food and his l. l. beans shoes stuffed right on top of his lunch and snacks. he says, i just checked, it's snowing in new york. well, really, surprise. all this while i am hovering quietly downstairs, preparing his morning drinks, repacking certain items according to his instructions, and only sparingly asking, as calmly as i can, where are you at? and i make sure i don't announce the time. why? firstly he would say, i am aware of the time, you don't need to remind me. secondly the inner self says, just focus on the task at hand, get him out of the house, and he'll be out at whatever time he'll be out.

aaah. the subtle effect of the tendency to control. bingo. once i recognize it's my tendency to control all that would have irritated and annoyed and agitated me don't irritate, annoy nor agitate me anymore. i just stay firmly in the space of attentive watchfulness.

anyhow, to finish off counting his luggage, there is a fourth bag filled with magazines, newspapers, clippings, envelopes, greeting cards, etc. why? what? how come? all these questions jump around in my mind. the inner self says, forget it, just keep quiet, suk wah.

then he spends a few more moments sorting through a separate pile of cards, clippings. i wait patiently. yes. patiently. i experience this simple quiet as i stand there watching his head lowered in a pondering mode. and i remember this. he came home yesterday from lunch all excited. he handed me a package and said, i got this for you. it's a pink, silk, hand-painted scarf. the woman he had lunch was wearing a similar one in a different color. so he went to the store, and got this one, and before i could say anything, he says something that he knows it's close and dear to my heart, i got the guy at the store to give me a big discount. i stare into his head of beautiful curls and know this. this is a man who loves me, cares about me, thinks about me all the time, asks himself, does wify like this? does this look good on wify? just like that my whole being is infused with a gently sweetness while finally he he raises his head. i gaze into his goose-egged face and big eyes, feel this sweet relief as he hands a card and envelope to me and says, put this one into the plastic folder. and so i do.

of course this whole mishegas - o how i love this yiddish word. it sounds so much sweeter and more adorable than insanity, craziness, madness - won't end without his favorite activity. returning to knock feverishly on the door because, in his words, i forget one thing. usually this would happen two times at least. ultimately, finally, we kiss and i rub blessings over his head and then he's gone. no second return. what an improvement on his part. incremental is good.

six fifteen. a few moments earlier i hear my inner self say, i know what you want to ask, don't even think about it. i swallow the question. now i turn it into a prayer. may you catch the plane and if you don't it's just the way it is, not the end of the world. anyway, at six fifty, i call him. just to wish him a safe flight. he says, i'm on the bus to the airport. i couldn't help it anymore. i hear the words flow out. are you going to make it? he says, o, yeah. all right. we'll see.

seven twenty two. i think to myself, i'll call him. if he doesn't pick up the phone he's on the plane. o, no. he picks up. my heart skips a beat and sinks into the brief pause on the other end until he says, i'm on the plane and i met this multi-millionaire on the bus. what else can i say but, great, it's so great. indeed, in the end it's all great. i just have to keep remembering that in the roller coaster ride of the moment. having said that, whoa, it's a lot of hwubby to keep up with.

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