I'm sitting here at our kitchen table, on a break from cleaning, looking out of the window. (Yes, I truly am, for I can look away and type at the same time. ;-)) It is sunny out with blue skies. The grass is a brilliant, emerald green. The neighbourhood is alive with activity-- children bicycling in small groups, families taking walks, and individuals arriving home via the university's courtesy shuttle.
There is a sense of change in the air. New people are moving in, and some are moving out. I look over and see a self-storage trailer hooked to the back of a near-by vehicle. One of the tenants in our building has already graduated and is gone. Soon--very soon--my Husband and I will be one of the families who are leaving forever. It is an ominous thought!
When my Husband and I first arrived to our flat, I cried. I thought it hideously ugly. The outside of our building is made from aged cedar wood and the shutters are "Robin Hood Green." The inside was worse. However, with time and a little effort of love, it became much more than a place to live: It became our home. I have a feeling that, in exactly one week, I will be shedding tears for a much different reason than I did several years ago.
This is the longest I have lived in any one place in nearly a decade. I will miss the various peoples of diverse ethnicities living here, with all of the colour and spice to life that they bring with them. I will miss the trees and the park-like terrain of the neighbourhood. Shades of green exist here which I have only seen in my far-away traveling adventures. The cloud formations, too, are simply majestic! I will miss taking leisurely walks with my beloved in the evening twilight glow. I will miss sipping tea or coffee from this little kitchen table nook. I have loved laying in bed at night, looking out the window at the trees and the moon. In the week that we have left, I want to cherish every moment.
This past weekend, my Husband graduated from the university. Along with a few hundred other scholars in their King Henry VIII look-alike medieval garb, he received his diploma and doctoral hood. Several friends and family came from out of town to celebrate with us-- my parents, my Husband's parents, and one of his two sisters. His little Lebanese grandmother came, too, along with her unmarried children: two uncles, and an aunt. Last came two of his long-time friends. All of us had not been together, in one place, since our wedding four years ago!
It was a memorable time. That is for sure and for certain! I wish that I could say that it was wonderful, momentous, joyful occasion! Unfortunately, due to severe stress, pressure from all sides of the family, and sleep deprivation, I metamorphosed into a complete shrew-- one who needed to be tamed in the worst way! I was generally fine until my Husband and I were alone. A word to the wise: do not swear at your husband in language so colourful that even a seasoned sailor would blush. Do not insult his leadership. Do not stubbornly refuse to obey commands. Do not throw things in his direction or make threatening gestures. Whatever you do, do NOT throw a pair of sharp, metal tweezers at his person! Else you, too, will be a very humbled and repentant soul afterward.
For those of you who are curious, the "day of reckoning" included 110 lashes across my rear end and thighs, having my palms smacked repeatedly and without mercy, and, of course, a few slaps across the face.
Monday morning-- and aqueduct sleep-- allowed the monster to recede back into the depths of some unknown bog. Since then, my intentions and attitude have been exemplary; I have done little else aside from use a few italicized tones toward my husband. I do not understand why I become a shrew at times. It is not who I am generally, nor that which I wish to be. I wish so badly to be perfect! I just want to obey-- and obey with all of my heart!
My Husband said to me, "If you were perfect, you would not have a blog." That is true enough, I suppose. His apropos comment earned him an incredulous grin.
I am not a perfect person, for sure. Sometimes, I am a selfish, spoiled brat. However, there is a desire within me to grow-- to continue to seek after holiness. And so, I will put that desire into action: I will obey. I will submit. I will love.