Category Archives: Love and Marriage

Trauma is a bitch…

Have you ever heard how our bodies can carry memories of our trauma within them?
I’ve experienced it a little before, crying during deeply effective yoga, or a really good massage, but having this abdominal surgery is stirring up all sorts of trauma.
Why?
Well the last abdominal surgery was smack dab in the middle of one of the worst years of my life, and I really didn’t get to deal with much of it at all.
So here is today’s podcast. It’s a healing step taken selfishly for me, one I should have taken ages ago, but haven’t because I hate to do anything that could remotely upset or hurt people. That isn’t my intention here, but it might be a side effect. Even knowing that has made me doubt doing this all day.
I have to stop impairing my own healing on the off chance my voice could upset someone, especially when I am only speaking my truth.

Misty opens up about withdrawing empathy for her countrypeople still refusing to vaccinate and her belief that if they want to have "Their body, their choice" then they can just shove that somewhere dark and moist.  — Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/savvyspoons/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/savvyspoons/support
  1. Your Body, Your Funeral
  2. In the dark…
  3. Breathing through pain.
  4. The pandemic life was my normal.
  5. It's a cooking show for tired people who don't want to cook.

Sometimes, he really doesn’t understand…

“Honey” say I, as I re-enter our minuscule office with foot hopping haste, “there is a bug in the kids bathroom I am going to need you to take care of.”

“Really?” He says. “Is it ugly or something?”

“Oh, you’ll see, just get in there now please.”

He heads into the bathroom immediately.

“Wow, that is the biggest bug I have ever seen outside a zoo! What do you think it is?” He exclaims in scientific wonder and interest.

“I am not sure, but if I had to guess, I would say a beetle.” I respond, not caring about its nature as much as its removal.

“Do you think it’s a cockroach?” He asks, unthinkingly bringing up the monster of all uber-procreating pests in reference to this easily two inch long, inch in diameter insect hanging out on my kids bathroom floor. (Nightmare sized insect, as in, do not need a magnifying glass to see distinguishing features while standing above it. Eep!!)

“Nope, it’s a beetle for sure. Not a cockroach.” Memories of my grandmother muttering something about if you see one cockroach, there are thousands more in the walls that you can’t see running around in my head.

“I don’t know honey, looks kind of like a cockroach.” He continues, clueless as to my concern over the damage our house will inevitably suffer when the Men in Black come to do battle with the alien beetles hiding in our bathroom walls.

“Nope. Saw it. Definitely not a cockroach. Definitely a beetle.”

Doesn’t he get it? If it’s a beetle then we don’t have a potential infestation problem, a beetle just randomly wanders into the house through a tear in a screen or something. It’s an outlier, a bit of nature come to visit your home. A cockroach is an indicator of something darker, a deeper problem, an invasion of your space. A cockroach means months of extra cleaning and traps, and worst of all, dealing with more cockroaches. I can tell you now, there is no way in hell I am dealing with an infestation of roaches this size, I will fucking move back in with my parents. This is a nightmare sized beetle.

“Definitely a beetle.” I say, in a tone that simply can no longer be missed as a signal that he should probably not query the nature of the insect again.

“It’s a big sucker isn’t it!” he says again, admiring the engineering of such a large creepy crawlie. “I don’t really want to kill it.”

“You don’t have to kill it, you can put it outside, so long as you put it far, far away outside.” I mention cheerfully, hoping the admiration for the gargantuan example of insect-hood will soon end and the removal process will soon begin. Dead, alive, dissected, I don’t care so long as it is out of my house and I don’t have to touch it to do it!!! Isn’t that one of the reasons I married him? So I can call on him for huge creepy insect removal duty when I don’t want to summon the will to “get over it” and do it myself? Sheesh!!!

“Come here little guy, let’s get you back out where you belong” he says, as he gathers up the beast and carries it out the door to freedom, and most likely death by pigeon.

And now I can relax…

Lee and I are at the point in our marriage where we have little to say to each other on the phone, but we miss each other terribly when we are apart.
This makes travel very hard. We like have the other person on the end of line, but can’t think of much to say after we have shared our day’s activities and expressed our love. It makes the distance seem so much more profound than it would if we had a lot of gossip to share. We don’t though. We know all of each other’s stories of our pre-together times, or at least most of the stories, and the stories that have occurred since we got together feature both of us, so we certainly don’t have to talk about them.
Add to this mess the fact that both of us hate the phone, and you have a couple who spend a lot of time listening to each other breathe, simply to have the connection.

Happily, I no longer have to listen to him breathe on the phone to feel closer to him, as he is here!! Yup, I picked him up at DIA last night. The minute I set eyes on him I felt much of my travel stress fade away. I guess I am so used to having him around that I get antsy when we are apart.

We are here for another five days, and then it is back to the home in Jersey, and our regularly scheduled lives. I have been enjoying the visit home, but he and I agree we should avoid having weeks apart as much as possible. It is too hard.