Product of our Environment

 It is my position that it is a wife's responsibility to support her husband. I very rarely say much about mine and I deliberately choose to do that. When we were first married I respected him. Then because of a series of incidents I began not to. At the moment, I refrained from writing details about my marriage because I never wanted to ever dishonor him. I often contemplate that proverb that says a wise woman builds her home but a foolish one tears it apart. So in the past I chose to only speak of his positive aspects.

I know I can sometimes be overly sensitive and I know that we both are a product of our up-bringing. I was raised in a super conservative home. There were some things we would not publicly do and to date I am very aware of those things.

My husband and I attended a fundraiser yesterday. There were several buffet stations and as we got up to go get our food we went to different stations. I took a quick peek at the food that was laid out. It was a brunch and there were breakfast food and lunch food. As my eyes surveyed the breakfast table, all that caught my eyes were the waffles. I happen to have a wheat sensitivity, so I quickly concluded that there would not be a whole lot I would be able to eat. I then realized that he was on the opposite side of the room from me. With that I quickly made my way across the room to stand next to him.

As I joined him I softly said, "I did not see a whole lot I could eat." He responded to me with what I thought was a raised voice as he pointed out there were in fact a lot I could have. We were a few yards away from the table that had the lunch cuisine. He responded by pointing at each item he assumed I could consume. I cowered and said. "Please do not point." That got him very upset and what was supposed to be a pleasant day turned into a disaster for me.

He is a product of his environment pretty much as I am of mine. As it is customary for me when I am upset, I spent the rest of my day writing into the early hours of the morning. As He went in and out he would make little berating comments. I cringe and held my head not wanting to hear all he was saying. As I closed my ears I wrote a poem about the kind of love I wish I had and felt that I don't even in the person of God. I wrote:

Even as  pure and innocent as a child’s actions            

Of putting shaving cream on his face
Are meant to mimic the ways and dealings,
Of the man he watched from very early on,

Or from him whose loins he came from,

Whether he is trying to promote or build on

The foundation he saw as being sincere

The same as he has been taught,

He will continue, expected to choose to do.

Yet this I sincerely promise,

That my desire is to follow after you.

Not to harm but support, encourage,

Not as most men typically do but as the one

Who delights and finds joy in you.

Despite what I have seen and lived through

I long to prove that my yearning was for you,

My one true love you are, I love you and only you.