Fancy Flowers, Fancy Dancing

I cannot get tired of the camellias. Here are two which may be Pink Perfection. I am not sure. But they are pink and they are perfection. I planted so many camellias in the yard when I moved in and this year, six years later, they are finally blooming and they make me so happy. To think- I planted and nurtured these and here they are- well. There is nothing as sweet as the watching of something you started to grow, whether it is a baby or a tree or a shrub or a jade tree or a begonia or a chicken or a bowl of bread dough, rising high on yeasty shoulders.

Mr. Moon is sick and this is something which only happens every other year or so. He does not get sick. I don't get sick very often either. We are people who do not get sick. This is part of our identity, but perhaps even more so for my husband than for me. I swear, neither of us has really been ill (except for my mental illness two summers ago) for over three years. He either has a bad cold or a bit of the flu. He aches, he has congestion, he is tired, his back hurts, he sweats then chills then sweats again. And it is so hard for him to admit that he is ill. He must really feel bad for him to go lie down in his reclining chair and fall asleep without even the TV on or his computer open on his lap. He apologizes for being so...weakly. He can't stand it. He is the man. He has a garden to fence, a living to earn. But his body has taken over and demanded rest and he is getting it right now. I'm going to let him sleep for awhile and then make him a supper, after which I hope he will let me draw him a bath, then put him to bed. He really does love to be nurtured and taken care of. Don't we all? But it's hard for him, as it is hard for me. I hope I can convince him to stay home tomorrow but it will be a fight. I know that man.

A relationship is like any other thing which you start and nurture and watch grow. You come to know that person, you have to learn how to slip in the things he or she needs while they're not looking, like grating zucchini in the spaghetti sauce for your children. You have to be bossy, you have to be meek, you have to step up, you have to step back. It's as fancy as any dance there is. A difficult dance, sometimes, and sometimes the most whirling and fabulous and dizzying of all. And you have to want to do it with all of your bones, your body, your heart, your soul, or the energy for such a dance is going to be overwhelming. Sometimes when you are dead tired in spirit and in body, the one you love may need something of you that you don't feel you have the energy to give. In fact, it may be at a time when you yourself feel that you need, you NEED, to be given that nurturing, that love, that attention, that...whatever.
Well. That's what I've found anyway.
And what happens then?

I'm not sure. All I know is that I have found for me, in my relationship with my husband, that sometimes you just have to put your own needs aside for a bit and just pour it on that other person. Pour it on like maple syrup you got on sale, like honey you brought home in a crystal jar. And invariably, it has come back to me when I've done this.

It's not unlike the way you are when you're a parent. You're dead tired and you haven't slept more than two hours in a row for weeks and the baby needs you to get up in the night for nursing, for diaper changing, for walking endless miles around the living room floor with him. And you do it. You walk in your sleep, you change the diaper, you offer the breast, the bottle. Or you're preoccupied with something going on in your life and your older child needs to talk, needs to bounce what's going on in his or her life against you and even though you do not have the energy, you do not have the time, you stop what you're doing and you do it. You listen, you talk, you let your child know you are there. That you care. That you love him. Or her.
And when all is said and done, you know you have given all that you can give and then some and that child never forgets. Never.

And so it is with a partner. Despite the fact that the partner is an adult, there are times when they cannot be ignored, nor can their needs. You cook a favorite meal, you tickle their fancy, you draw them a bath, you rub their feet, you tell them you love and appreciate them and all that they do. You let them know that you are aware of what they bring to the relationship.

Well, so it is for me. Even a very big, strong man to whom I have been married to for over twenty-five years needs to be reminded that I am really and truly here for him. He pretends he hates that I have to "do" for him sometimes. But really? I know he loves it. And so I ignore his protestations and I take care of him the best I can and as much as he'll let me.

Because I love him and because I would no more risk him not feeling that than I would go out and cut down a camellia that I had planted and watched grow into maturity.
Why in the world would I do that? I would lose those glossy leaves, those perfect blossoms that give me so much pleasure.

And now I am off to cook his supper and I am happy to do so. He is my love and our relationship is one of the things I have worked most hard at in my life and with the most amazing reward.
We dance so well together, Mr. Moon and I, despite our differences in both size and ways. We have figured it out and if I have anything to say about it, we will be dancing together for the rest of our lives, twirling and dipping, spinning and touching. If I have my way. We will be.