a hand to hold 77 [复制链接]

A Hand to Hold
                        
“My darling, you are so lucky. I used to have what you have.”The well-dressed elderly lady seated in the church bench afterward to me took me quite by surprise as she leaned in and spoke to me emulating the Sunday service. Somewhat befuddled, I managed to absolute a silence thank you, however at that instant I was a little unsure of the averaging back her words. What did I possess that this obviously well-off woman did not? Strands of pearls adorned her cervix, and I could not aid but notice the numerous sparkling gemstones that graced her aging fingers.As I looked down at my own hands, the response became evident. Interlocked in my hand was the hand of my husband. Listening to the sermon together aboard Sunday morns had led us to a natural closeness to God and to each additional. More constantly than no, my husband would approach for my hand during the sermon or put his arm around mine during the time of silent prayer and reflection. This time together was divine to us in more than fair the manifest course. With our two young daughters in their Sunday educate chambers, we reconnected and recharged later a hectic week of go, playgroups, and diaper changes.When I looked across the pew at the woman next to me, I realized that she sat alone. Most possible, the husband whose hand once held hers on Sunday mornings had passed on and left her with the memories of what I now share with my husband. “I am so lucky,” I murmured to her in answer. As I stood up and arranged to leave the church, I looked up at my husband, Allen, and laughed. What I have with him is naturally a special blessing.As a thirty-something, stay-at-home mom, I relish the chance to speak with other women my old and barter stories almost our young children. However, while the heading turns from life in the nursery carpool line to grumbles about mates, I convert uncharacteristically mute. Stories of husbands who do not equally endow to child attention or housework are commonplace. The same holds for the husbands who travel for days (weeks, months . . . ) on end and have little stamina left over for thriller or family.After 7 years of wedding, I now realize that I am an primarily lucky woman!My husband, Allen, once an administrative with all the oppressions of long commutes, affair trips, and the very real likelihood of transferring along the nation, away from my close-knit extended family, made the difficult decision to resign from his high-powered job. He now owns his own small affair in our hometown. Instead of executive perks, he now gets to look the perky antics of our two tiny girls as we dine lunch together each day. Rather than coming home from work after 7:00 pm, Allen is family like clockwork for our midnight six o’clock household supper. Like each family with young children, many work is left for the post-dinner hour. We draw baths, peruse stories, and clean the dishes. Instead of withdrawing to the world of ESPN or simulating to tinker with something “manly” in the garage or cellar, my husband is right by my side as we complete the nightly household tasks.When weekends coil around, I am the blessed woman who does not absence to cook a single repast. Warm maple syrup and hazelnut coffee aromas waft ascent from our kitchen as Allen prepares breakfast and allows me the elegance of lingering in a peppery shower. This splendid man does not hesitate to give me a much-needed break anytime I want to go shopping or out to lunch with friends. When I return I find snowmen in our yard, LEGO palaces in our playroom, and my two sweet princesses wearing paper caps that Daddy cut out for them to dress.“Dad made us a teddy bear picnic meantime you were at Target!” my four-year-old excitedly exclaims as I enter the gate, loaded down with shopping bags.“We had real food! Pretzels and raisins on the big blanket!”I am given lonely period to mart and socialize sans diaper bags, but my children are the recipients of the real gift . . . period spent with their surprising father.The man who irons all of our raiment, cooks, cleans, and mantles every Christmas present (honestly, all I do is put on the sticky bows and gift tags!) is likewise generous with his admiration toward me. After the children are asleep, I often find myself sitting in front of a warm launch or a few lit candles. Herbal tea is served to me as we consult our -children’s latest antics or our wishes for the future.I fulfil namely the elderly matron in mosque was quite correct. What I possess namely really special. I am the luckiest woman in the globe to be congratulated with such a caring, giving husband. Through the words of a complete stranger, I am reminded to adore every moment with the man I adore. I fully plan to keep his hand intertwined in mine because at a time God allows.