Tuesday, January 10, 2017
I have said this before and I will say it again- our trips to Mexico are in no small part responsible for the long and loving marriage I am in. That two weeks of being with my husband for every second of the day and night, allowing us to be not Mom and Dad or Mer and Bop but simply Mary and Glen has resulted in a real and profound depth to our relationship that I'm not sure we ever would have attained without them.
I laid down for a nap this afternoon and when I woke up, my husband was home from auction and he set about cleaning up and lighting the gas logs in the fireplaces of both the Glen Den and our bedroom and although they are only gas log fires, I find the flame in them so beautiful. That's the one in our room and I doubt you could actually burn a real fire in that fireplace anymore. It's been funkified over the years to the point of being a fire hazard but those old bricks and mortar hold the flames of the fake fire so beautifully and have warmed the room to a toasty level of warmth.
I am not trying to create a metaphor here. There is nothing fake about the love I have for my husband nor even for the life we live in our two weeks in paradise where neither of us lifts a finger to work of any kind.
But...sometimes you get your heat from wood you have chopped and stacked and hauled.
Sometimes you get your heat from gas that is piped into an old fireplace.
Sometimes you remember why and how you fell in love with someone when you are completely removed from the daily chores and work and care of the life you've made together through design and through serendipity and happenstance which sustains you when you return back to that life.
We shall sleep warm tonight.