The road goes ever on...

[jon2911]

Wedding ring weirdness continues...

I took it off when she got here last week, then couldn't find it after she left.

Text: "Hey, I had your ring in my purse, do you still want it?"

She called later, I said just hang onto it until we see each other next. Then I had another call come in. Now she's asking if I opened a new safe deposit box. I feel like she's wanting me to make a big deal about this, but I'm too busy to worry about it.

The funny thing is, her ring is somewhere in storage, hopefully. She hired someone to help her pack, and realized later the the ring was in the bathroom. It was worth about $5,000, but I try not to think about that.

[LolaL]

I have not seen the movie, but methinks I need to watch it!!!

[MichelleLT]

Hmm. Interesting about the ring.

Wonder why it ended up in her purse???

[jon2911]

Wonder why it ended up in her purse???

I put it on the floor next to the bed when she asked me to take it off, and she didn't want the dog to get it. Weird how it all ended up.

[ms ladybug]

When I took my ring off, I hid it at my mom's house. She's the only other one who knows where it is. I know h would take it. He already took back a charm he gave me for my birthday.

[LolaL]

I still have my wedding rings, but I don't wear them much anymore...

[jon2911]

Found a great article at my parent's house. I told them to read it to understand what I'm trying to do.

Surprised by Love
After 37 years of marriage it seemed we had nothing left in common…except a silly green frog.


The bathroom was a mess. Tissues overflowing from the trash can. A tube of toothpaste lying open on the counter. A bar of grimy soap lying next to the soap dish. My husband, Glen, had only stopped by the house while I was at work to get some things and do his laundry, but he sure made his presence known. A mess…just like our marriage, I thought.

We were in the middle of a “therapeutic separation.” That’s what the family counselor called it anyway. After 37 years, marriage to Glen had become increasingly frustrating and lonely, and I thought a break would breathe life into our relationship. Instead, it only magnified our problems. I stalked out of Glen’s bathroom and sat down on the couch to eat dinner in front of the TV. How had it all gone wrong?

When the last of our three children, Susan, left home, suddenly it was just Glen and me. I dreaded returning home after work to cook dinner while Glen watched stupid old adventure movies or played around on his computer. I hoped things would change when Glen retired in 2001 and we moved from Illinois to Arizona to be closer to our son, Michael, his wife, Jodi, and our four-year-old granddaughter, Mikaila. But Arizona was worse. We rarely went out. He acted as if he hardly noticed me. He dressed like it too. “Casual” didn’t do it justice. All we seemed to do together was watch old sitcoms. Glen spent his free time golfing. I spent more and more time working at a spiritual retreat center.

I prayed constantly. Where had we gone wrong? Didn’t God bring us together to stay together? The only relief was when Mikaila came for sleepovers. I stocked a box full of toys for us to play with. She especially loved bath time, always playing with a little green rubber frog that squeaked when she squeezed it and sprayed water.

Finally, I told Glen I wanted a divorce. He convinced me to see a counselor with him. When we broke the news to our kids, they were understandably upset. Especially our daughter Karen, still in Illinois.

Glen and I met with a therapist for 90-minute sessions every month, talking about our childhood, dating, our engagement and our marriage. Everything. It all came out, years of frustration and unspoken resentments. Especially after the kids moved out. The spark between us was gone. Yes, Glen and I loved each other, but were we still in love? It didn’t feel like it.

Now Glen was living in an RV, parked a few miles away at a campground. We had agreed that while I was at work, he could enter the house to get his stuff and do his laundry. But couldn’t he at least clean up after himself?

I couldn’t finish my dinner. I started to tidy things up in my bathroom when I spied Mikaila’s little rubber frog by the tub. I picked it up. Such an ugly little thing! Those bulging red eyes, that green bumpy skin. It certainly stood out. I was about to put it away when I had an idea. I’ll show him. I marched over to Glen’s bathroom and stuck the frog on top of the toilet brush. “You might be able to ignore this mess, but you can’t ignore Froggy,” I said. He had to take the hint.

I checked Glen’s bathroom a few days later. The frog was still waiting to be rescued. Glen probably didn’t even notice it. He doesn’t notice anything. I moved Froggy to a dish filled with seashells and sand on top of the tank. We’d collected the shells years before on a shore vacation, back when we used to do things like walk on the beach.

The next afternoon, I went into my bathroom. There he sat on the edge of the toilet seat. Froggy. I burst out laughing.

I ran to check Glen’s bathroom. It positively sparkled! Toothpaste and shaving foam put away, the tub spotless. Victory! Glen will be by to do his laundry tomorrow, I thought. I had the perfect spot for Froggy: on top of the agitator in the washer. A sort of “thank you” gesture.

Two days later I reached for some lotion in my medicine cabinet—and there it was, that silly green amphibian, staring me in the face. I giggled. Right where he knew I’d notice it, I thought. “Two can play at this game,” I said. I went to Glen’s bathroom and plopped Froggy on the bar of soap in Glen’s shower.

This is sort of fun, I caught myself thinking. Like the fun we used to have. But I cut myself short. Don’t go there, Linda. Our problems were too deep to be fixed by a little silliness. Besides, I had just rented an apartment for myself.

I moved into the apartment a few days later, and Glen moved back into the house. “I’ll stop by when you’re at work to pick up some clothes,” I told him. That afternoon, when I opened up my lingerie drawer, there was Mikaila’s frog, right where he didn’t belong! My face turned beet red. Oh, my! I marched into the bedroom and planted it on Glen’s pillow under the bedspread. That’ll teach him.

“How are things going?” the therapist asked us at our next session. Glen and I looked at each other. Finally he said, his face perfectly serious, “Well, actually, we’ve been hiding this frog around.…” It was all I could do to keep from laughing. Glen told her how he found the frog on his pillow. I mentioned the lingerie drawer. “It’s not like us to be this playful,” I said. The therapist smiled. “Maybe that’s the key for your marriage recovery, to learn how to have fun again. Laugh more and enjoy each other. You might be ready for the next step…to start dating each other again.” I felt myself flush. Dating?

There, during our session, we made plans to go to a flea market and agreed we wouldn’t discuss our relationship—just try to have fun. Nothing fancy, we both insisted. Our daughter Karen had other ideas. She called me that morning. “What are you planning to wear on your date?” she asked. “Oh, just what I’m wearing to work,” I answered, looking at my shirt and jeans and vaguely wondering how she knew about our date. Karen sighed. “Mom, you can’t wear the same thing you wear to work. You need something new and fun!”

That afternoon I stopped at Nordstrom’s Last Chance. I couldn’t help snorting at the name. Still, there was a stylish pair of black and white polka-dot Capri pants on sale. I matched them with a white V-neck T-shirt and shiny black sandals with cute straps. That night I put on makeup and dangling earrings. Standing in front of the mirror, I looked at myself. Not bad for someone going on a date for the first time in forty years.

There was a knock at the door. Here we go…. I took a deep breath and opened it. There stood Glen…but not the Glen I knew. Smartly dressed, hair combed, holding a bouquet of daisies. He even opened the car door for me! Who is this guy?

We spent an hour browsing through the booths at the flea market. “How about something a little more…” Glen started to say. “…exciting?” I finished his sentence. “Exactly,” Glen said. So we went to a barbecue place for dinner and some live country music. We talked about movies, work, even Glen’s golf game—but nothing about our marriage. “I’ve got a confession to make,” Glen said. “Karen called and told me I should bring you flowers and do all that other stuff.”

“That little sneak! She told me what to do too!” I said. We chuckled at how we’d been tutored by our matchmaker daughter. I was beginning to remember what drew me to Glen in the first place. His good nature, his sense of humor, his honesty. You know, if this were a real first date, I’d definitely see this guy again. Glen dropped me at home. “Should we do this again?” he asked, taking my hand. How long had it been since we’d held hands? It wasn’t all his fault. I’d let the distance build between us too. “Absolutely,” I said. That night I prayed, God, maybe Glen and I deserve another shot. I think you want us to be together. Help us rediscover our love.

Now during our therapy sessions we started talking about what we liked about each other, not what we didn’t like.

For the first time in years we began thinking of ourselves as a couple again. On days when I didn’t see Glen I found myself missing him. Missing us.

Finally, the big test was a Fourth of July weekend camping trip in northern California. It was like a dream…a good one. By the time we got back, I knew I was ready to recommit to Glen. We finished our therapy and I moved back home.

We were back together again for a few weeks when I found a little surprise in my jewelry box—no, not a new diamond ring—but the little rubber frog. Every now and then Froggy still appears in the most unexpected places. But that’s the thing about love. It’s the best surprise of all.

[MichelleLT]

That is an absolutely BEAUTIFUL story.

It is the little things sometimes lol.

[jon2911]

Finally able to post!

Finished my paper on Wednesday, just found out that I made an A! Very surprised and relieved.

W moved to her new place on Thursday, texted me a few times "what are you doing this weekend," I played it cool. Then she called that night and said "I wish you were here". I was able to take a half-day at work Friday, then leave at 4 AM this morning to drive back and play at church. It was a perfect way to celebrate being done with school.

We had some great food, watched Hancock (very good), and got some work done on her new place. It's an incredibly nice, brand new house, but she's having roommate problems already. Really, her dog is causing the problems, so that should be interesting.

W had a headache all day Saturday, which was a challenge. She got very bitchy, no way else to say it. I just acted as if, helped her run errands, etc. Really felt like leaving a couple times, but glad I didn't.

At one point I asked her where her drill was, and she broke down crying. She has stuff in storage in Dallas, stuff at her parents, and at her new place. This is the most organized person I've ever known, so it's really hard on her. I sat with her a bit and just listened. Staying with her parents was terrible, because they watched her so closely. She didn't even feel like she could buy shampoo and soap without them judging her. (One of W's nicknames is "toiletry queen", so I was astonished survived so long without her products). She said she's been tight on money before, but never like this. Really, she's never experienced this. Reality bites. She still can't work.

I held her and said I wish I could fix this. She also said "I know we're not supposed to be together, and I don't want to come back to Dallas just because of finances. I couldn't fix you, you couldn't fix me, it just didn't work." This ticked me off a bit, but I bit my tongue. Thinking back on it, at least it shows she's thinking.

Other than that, she was very negative all day. Critiqued my driving, my personality, picked at everything. I really had to fight to keep a good mood, and it reminded me what things were like during our M. When her head hurts, she can't sleep, can't do anything, but gets agitated because she's not accomplishing anything. And of course takes it out on me. I basically forced her to go to the movie, but we had a great time. It's so hard to know when to do that, leave her alone, etc.

**warning: not Jeff-safe**
The worst thing about the migraines is that she really doesn't feel like sex. She made several comments during the day about how sex is the only thing that works for us, but she can't even do that. After a good dinner and a movie, she was in a better mood, and I decided to go for it. It definitely took some work, but it's much more rewarding that way. And there's something I forgot: her orgasms are MUCH, um, bigger when she has a migraine. They've actually done studies on it. So, it's a lot harder to get there, but worth it. And, it really helps get her mind off her headache after we get over the initial hump.

Thinking back on the M, on days like yesterday we both would stay in a bad mood, and I wouldn't even feel like trying anything. That she basically gets verbally abusive was an easy excuse. So, I like this PMA thing. I had a lot of thoughts like "great, I drive for 4 hours, and you can't even rest up and relax so we can have a good time?" But was able to shove them out this time. And it was great for both of us. Somehow I think it won't be long until I get to visit again...

[jon2911]

So, W just called. Said that last night was "very nice". We talked about that for a bit. Then she made the comment about how sex works, but nothing else, blah blah blah.

It's funny, because a counselor I talked to last week said that marriage is extremely hard, men and women are so different, sex is the glue that keeps us together and makes us actually makes us want to work on it. LOL.

Then W got teary-sounding and said "do you think we'll end up together?" I said yes, but it'll take a lot of time and work. And I don't expect her to believe anything I say, because she's heard a lot of crap from me. She said "I just wanted to know where you stand".

So commenced a couple hours of R talk, which of course didn't accomplish anything, but she ended it with "we'll see". She's also definitely in counseling weekly, and I said if her counselor ever wants to talk to me I'd love to. That launched a big "I'm NOT working on us" tirade, but I wanted to throw it out there. Any good counselor would at least want to know both sides IMO.

I guess R talk is OK if she initiates it, but I always have this feeling like it's going to be pointless. But I guess she needs to know I'm still hopeful from time to time.

At the end, she started into the whole "I'm giving you the wrong impression" junk, and I made it clear that she doesn't need to worry. I'm a big boy, and if I want to have a fun weekend like we did. I don't expect her to come running back to my arms because we have a fun weekend. But of course, it was REALLY fun. It feels good to be confident.