Well, my husband’s birthday seemed to go pretty well! He was a happy man. I let him sleep-in on my sleep-in day (granted, he let me sleep-in on his day the day before). After he woke up, he went for a long walk on the beach, stopped by his favorite poke place for lunch, ordered all the add-ons, came home, and spent the rest of the day watching TV and playing video games. He was light-hearted and smiley all day long. After I got off work, we picked up some El Torito takeout that his parents paid for, brought it over to their house, ate dinner, opened presents, and had cake. He seemed pleasantly surprised by the desk shelves I got him.
I had my anatomy scan yesterday morning, and everything looks good. Morgan’s apple blanket arrived in the mail, so now we’re just waiting for that darn wooden name sign—the thing I’m most excited for! It’s taking forever because apparently everything got shut down where it’s coming from in Arkansas. Today I wanted to splurge and order the apple swaddle and an apple onesie, but the ones I wanted were all sold out! Tragic.
After I write this I’m going to swing by the FedEx store, package up Leona’s hand-me-downs that I’ve picked out to give to my sister’s daughter, and send them off to her. After that the big goals for the day are about two and a half hours of studying and three hours of clients. Oh, and we’re planning to order our swamp cooler today.
I guess now is as good of a time as any to write the thing about my mom and dad. It recently occurred to me that, while my mom loves to bitch and moan about how my dad is “helpless” without her, he is the very thing that I believe gives her life purpose. She is a caregiver. At this point in her life, that role has become almost her entire identity. Not only did she create the helpless man who is my dad, if he wasn’t there for her to take care of I really don’t think she would know what to do with herself, and I think she’d have to face a very deep depression while searching for a new identity.
Furthermore, the more I learned about ACE’s, or adverse childhood experiences, and their impact on the health and wellbeing of adult people, the more I’m convinced that this was the root cause of my dad getting terminal cancer at 42 years old. Then, I think about how my mom has loved and taken care of my dad, and I feel convinced that this plays a major role in the fact that he’s managed to live with terminal cancer for over 20 years.
Lastly, as I think about how my parents seem to play such major roles in each others’ lives, and how this has not come easy to them—many years were spent enduring intense emotional heartache, particularly on my mother’s part—I feel grateful for the influence they’ve had on me. They’ve shown me the potential outcome of committing yourself to marriage. Sometimes I wonder if my husband and I will make it to the end together, or if some kind of conflict will be big enough to break us, but after thinking about my parents and all they’ve been through, I feel much stronger in my own marriage.
I just got off the phone with my parents, and I told them how I thought all this. My dad thought it was nice. My mom thought it was bullshit, haha. I can’t say I’m surprised to hear that, though. Like I said, she loves to bitch and moan. That’s the exact thing I wanted to talk to a therapist about, but, regardless, I love her, and I still truly believe that deep down she depends on this dynamic, whether she knows it or not.
Until next time <3