Eddie's Girl

I've posted this before, but it's worth repeating.
As I get older and the longer I'm married, the more I realize that each year is a gift.

I’m one of the fortunate ones. After 40 years of marriage, my pulse still quickens and my heart pumps harder when I’m with my husband, Eddie. It’s not hard, though, to love him. Everywhere I go, the women all love him and the men find him slightly silly and sappy.

I don’t know if it’s because he once cooked me a heart-shaped meatloaf for Valentine’s Day, or rented me a convertible for a day to drive to “no where”, or rowed me around the lake in Central Park on my birthday; he just knows how to make the special days memorable.

But when it comes down to it, it’s the everyday things that endear Ed most; drawing us closer as the years go by. Each morning starts with freshly ground, whole bean, prepared the night before, brewed coffee. And after we leave for our respective occupations, the occasional “I’m just thinking of you” call keeps us connected. These “ordinary” gestures are reminders of his daily thoughtfulness.

In addition, he is not ashamed to say he loves me; often. Or that I am beautiful; and I instantly feel so. He begins each day whispering in my ear a quiet, drowsy-eyed, “Good Morning” – good to begin a new day together - and ends each one with, “I hope I see you tomorrow” – because we both know, first hand, sometimes tomorrow never comes.

And even more often, Ed’s actions speak louder than his words. The way he looks at me, unexpectedly reaches for my hand, or softly pushes a strand of hair behind my ear. He can speak wordlessly to me from across a crowded room with just a wink. He has cried with me, sighed with me and prayed with me. He tickles, teases and spoils me. When life gets me down, he knows how to turn my up-side-down, in-side-out fears and emotions into calmness; always there with a listening ear and an understanding heart. In his arms I feel secure,
enclosed in warmth.

As a result, many a hug has cheered me and convinced me to go forward. It is because Ed has such a selfless attitude that he is able to bring out the best in me. And his kiss…..well, it’s bliss. For me, Ed is like a ray of sunshine and I like the flower that leans towards him. Naturally then, it a no wonder that the song, “You are my Sunshine” is a favorite of ours.

In this age of liberation for women, I like it when he holds the door for me or carries the groceries into the house. I consider him a gentleman when he pulls my chair out at a restaurant or offers his hand when stepping out of the car.
Chivalry isn’t dead with Ed.

Together, we tackle chores around the house. There are no “his” and “her” lists because we are a team. As a result, often, Ed washes the dishes while I tackle the bills, he bakes up batches of muffins and I hedge the bushes. Our lives revolve around each other. Although we have our separate interests, we always consider each other when making plans; it is a courtesy that has grown out of mutual respect.

Perhaps all this is possible because Ed is comfortable with himself. As a result, he freely shares his feelings and isn’t afraid to laugh at himself (and believe me when I say he takes his share of jabs). His humor and silly side keeps me laughing. We’re not just partners in a journey. We’re friends who share smirks and giggles. This side of our relationship allows us to continue our “courting” throughout life.

A few years back, Ed announced that Friday nights are official “date night”. Together we have had picnics in our bedroom, tea parties by the lake and stargazed in the grass. We compete in bowling, Monopoly and chess. We dine for two with only candlelight on the deck, combine pizza and a movie or just eat ice cream for dinner.

Since our children have grown up and gone their respective ways, I am often asked if I have experienced “empty nest syndrome”. And I always answer, with a smile, that I will never be an empty nester… because I’ll always have Ed.

It hasn’t always been this easy. Married at 18 and 23, most of our friends and family didn’t think we’d last. Labeling us as too young and immature, they were sure we would be a statistic in no time. But they underestimated our commitment to each other. Then we added four children to our home. Sneakers, sports and college tuition kept our funds just above our earnings. But we always remind each other that we are fortunate. We have love and health; everything else in life is a bonus. Early on, as a joke to keep us going, Ed would ask me, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” And I’d always answer, “Eddie’s girl.” It is our mantra and makes us smile.

Often throughout our marriage he has asked me to “marry” him because we couldn’t afford expensive rings and would joke that as a result, we weren’t “properly” married. Recently, after all this time, he came home, got down on one knee and “proposed” to me, presenting me with a beautiful diamond ring. He has a romantic side also.

However, the old cliché “Opposites attract” is true for us. Ed is a laid back, “whatever happens, happens” spontaneous kind of guy. His clothes lay where he takes them off, he reads several books at once, and his schedules don’t include looking at a watch. On the other hand, I am methodically driven, time obsessed and structured. Although we have had to learn the game of “give and take” over time, being with Ed is like being with the other half of myself. The side that needs to slow down and enjoy this beautiful life we have been blessed with.

That is why my favorite time of day is when we arrive home after work and share our day with each other. Whether we’re snuggling on a rainy day, catching the last rays of sunlight on our deck or walking around the block, talking with Ed helps me put things in perspective. Together, we often tackle and conquer the problems of our little world.

In fact, I’m convinced if there were more of Ed to spread around the world that it would be a better place. Often you can tell how kind a person is by the way they react to small children and animals. Ed is not above getting on the floor, making funny faces or blowing bubbles with the youngest child in the house. And the birds in “our neck of the woods” are ceremoniously fed. Ed keeps a watchful eye on the feeders and provides ample birdhouses for nesting; true signs of a compassionate individual.

Yes, our life together is a comfortable one. If I had the opportunity to exhort the young-to-be-wed, I would tell them they can also live a love story if they put “Communication”, “Respect”, and. “Commitment” on their priority list. With these three ingredients, love falls into place. Naturally.

I’m so grateful to share my life with this man who is so willing to give me such a big part of himself. And, of course, you know by now, that I will always want to be 

Eddie’s girl.

How old am I?

Wait? How Old Am I?

I don’t know when I started doing this, but lately I keep asking myself, “How old am I?” It’s not that I’m shy about letting people know my age, but instead that I’m having a hard time realizing that the number associated with my birth date is how old I’m supposed to feel.

I can remember a time when I looked at people in their 40’s and thought, “Wow! They’re old!” But yikes! Just the other day I found a hair on my chin. Now I’m not talking about a “new- chick-from-the-egg downy fuzz”. No, I’m talking about one long, spiky, fatal follicle.  Also, I’ve had to start wearing readers so I can decipher the size 3 font used on packaging (do you think eye wear companies pay to have tiny print put on products?).  And where did those wrinkles come from? Not all the wrinkle-reducing, age-defying cream in the world will help those fine lines. In addition, just when I think I’ve figured out how to muddle through my computer and smart phone it’s time to upgrade and figure it out all over again, causing my brain to overload.

But the final and last straw to all this are my (adult) children! They’ve started treating me differently; in an incredibly patronizing way. You shouldn’t do this; you might want to do that.  It’s not like I’m sunbathing in a bikini or taking a cross county motorcycle trip.

In fact, I’m not interested in spending my 50’s pretending I’m 30, but my very own offspring at times treat me as if I’ve crossed over into paranoia. OK. Maybe I am overly suspicious, excessively wary and unreasonably distrustful.  I mean, come on…doesn’t everyone lock their car in the garage? And even though I vowed I would never be that “old lady” who unapologetically blurts out whatever comes into her mind, without any filter, I might have to admit, I sometimes find myself helping others see the errors of their ways through my eyes.

Recently I went to a high school reunion. I stepped into the room, looked around and saw no one I knew. Surely, I was in the wrong room. But after confirming with the name-tag-door-greeter, I found out I was, indeed (!), in the right place – but everyone had changed; even though I had not!  How did this happen? Again, it made me ask, how old am I?

Maybe I’m looking at this all the wrong way. Perhaps I should realize getting older has its advantages. Hey! It took me all these years to finally feel confident in this skin, a bit bruised and battered but definitely braver and more determined.  I keep telling myself age breeds maturity and confidence. Over the years, I have learned that Life has a way of throwing curve balls and, as a result, I don’t always get everything right. I’ve started looking at mistakes as, well…opportunities. I’ve learned that as long as I am blessed with good health and have the love of my family, everything else in this life is a bonus.

I will never want Botox (I want to embrace those laugh lines), or dye my hair (gray is the new beautiful), and will continue mastering the art of being a lifelong learner (because pretending to know what it’s all about only gives you a deer-in-the-headlights look. Instead, if you find yourself in a situation where you have to forge forward without knowing, the trick is not being found out before you can get home to Google it).

So as long as health and memory hold out (and that is being debated even now amongst my posterity), I want the coming years to be more rewarding; more relaxing; more restful. The truth is…I don’t think I mind getting older after all and I think I’ll just forget my actual age number. Ahhhhhh…There’s a certain freedom to it. I can do anything I want.  I’m old.  

Ice cream for breakfast, anyone?

Resolving Resolutions

There are few things that fill me with exhaustion more than the dread of rushing through yet another holiday season…..so many holiday cards to address and send; gifts for everyone from your great-great-great niece to the fifth cousin removed from your sister-in-law’s mother. And that music!! Without coming off as Scrooge, the sound of jingling bells, merry chimes and HoHoHo’s need to come to a halt by the time January arrives.

The way I see it, the New Year is a way of taking a deep breath, slowing down and starting over.

If you noticed, I didn’t say anything about resolutions. In my book, resolutions are not a way of retarding the ever-increasing way most hustle and bustle through Life. Personally, I don’t need the additional pressure (or guilt) of coming up with yet another way I can become the perfect person. I think we’ve all lived long enough to know that a “one day promise” to change our life is not going to make us better or improved.  In fact, by the time the ball begins to fall and hits the ground, most of us have devised a way to get out of the little contract we’ve devised in our minds.

Sure, I know we’ve all resolved to eat better, exercise more and keep up to date with our emails, but these are everyday undertakings that we should be aware of for our own physical well-being and peace of mind; not as a chore that seems doomed before it has begun. But truly, if I am to be pressed about making New Year’s resolutions, then I say, instead of making them for myself, I’d like to throw out a few I wish others would make:

~ Be courteous. Leave hostile in the gutter where it belongs. We’re all in this journey of Life together. Let’s at least try to get along. Basic manners work here. Please. Thank You.

~ Put down the Phone when talking to others (better yet, leave it in your pocket).  Contrary to what you may think, no one is interested in any conversation you may be having and having a talking device attached to your ear does not make you important. Um, I think this goes along with being courteous.

~ Clean up after yourself. It never amazes me how sloppy and disrespectful people can be. One thrown piece of paper from a gum wrapper could add up to a whole community of waste blowing in the wind. We’re all grown up here and no one should have to pick up after us; did I mention courteous?

~ Hold the door open for a stranger. We can all use a little bit of help from time to time. Now, because your phone is in your pocket, you can extend a courteous act.

~ Smile. I know you’ve all heard how smiling uses less muscles than frowning or how just the act of smiling psychologically sends “feel good” neurotransmitters to the brain, but a smile is a gift you can give away for free. And they are contagious. So just think, because you are not on your phone 24/7 you can help someone with a gracious (which is synonymous with courteous), simple smile.

See how by one act, kindness grows; how one resolution really becomes five? And because I believe these acts should be every day, spontaneous knee-jerk reactions to others, I’ll also resolve to enforce them .

Carpe Diem!

Holiday Fun!!

Swimmin' Santas

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Some Things Never Change

After 37 years, there is at least one certainty that never grows old: Eddie, the sock thrower. 

And as a result, I have been dubbed the "Sock Maid". 

Now I know this does not sound like an elegant or even prestigious status, but I own this title. 

Let me explain.

There is a nightly ritual that occurs between the time Eddie rolls into bed and covering himself with the sheets. 

He tugs and pulls, aims and launches first one sock and then the other towards the general vicinity of the laundry hamper. Depending on the time of night, lighting and general strength of the tired heave, they can land up anywhere in the room. 

I've found lonely soles under the bed, behind the armoire, hanging from lamps; even in the plants.

When he first started this fling, hurl and chuck, I was tempted to leave those separated pairs just to see how many would pile up and for how long. However, after a day or so, I realized that if I left them to their awkward landings, over time, I would have piles of mismatched, unrelated, colorful clusters of foot ornaments and decorations. Besides, the methodical (some call it OCD) part of me finds it impossible to walk past a stray right or left, balled up, dirty sock just begging to be placed in its proper place. So what do I do? Yup. I pick up that smelly, turned-inside-out piece of fabric and then I search for it's companion. 

I help them find their way to the wash. 

Every. Single. Morning. 

After 13,505 bends and picks you'd think I'd have six pack abs, but I assure you, I have a ways to go as I've had a few days off for holidays and good behavior.

I know. I know. My feminist sisters out there, all for equal rights, will most likely set up a coup to liberate me from such an "atrocity". They are horrified by the idea! But let it be known here and now. I like picking up his socks. It's not a forced drudgery. In fact, it's a rather mindless act; I automatically collect and deposit, collect and deposit on my way to my usual morning rituals.

 I think of it this way: every lobbed sock in the evening gives me the hope that I will wake up the next morning beside my mate; every stray sock I save in the morning is the start of a new day with Eddie.

Like those socks, Eddie and I are a pair. We may get worn down, tossed and separated. We may get holes that need darning and mending; stones that need wresting. But in the end, we belong together and find our way back to each other. 

We're a couple. A set. A twosome. 

He puts more Carpe into my Diem.

I am thankful for every moment I have with this amazing man. He sees my flaws yet he focuses on my heart. 

As a duo, we spend hours talking. And talking. And talking. 

Ours is a simple life: we eat, we walk, we nap we read. Together. 

I feel grateful and blessed; I've been married to the same man for 37 years and have never felt closer to him. 

In fact, I can't imagine a life without him and when I think about it, I realize I've always wanted to be married. To him.

Like a million washings, this is a transformation that has taken place over time. It is the result of a million disagreements, a million apologies, a million kindnesses, a million tears, a million laughs and smiles. 

Our life together has washed us into a soft, aging, near-perfect fit. I am still falling in love and yes, 

I'll always be Eddie's Girl.

So today, on our anniversary, just to prove I find joy in castaway hosiery, I think I'll give Eddie a new pair of socks... just to keep it going.

~ Love like there is no tomorrow

 and if tomorrow comes, 

Love again ~

 Max Lucado

Hello my name is Beth and I'm married to a Fit-bit-aholic

When Eddie got a FitBit as a gift for Christmas last year, my first thought was, "OK. Just another gadget that will find its way to the drawer of once-used-never-to-be-seen-again misfit gadgets." 

Oh! How wrong I was! 

 The first few days Eddie started out slowly, walking several miles a day to achieve the American Heart Association's 10,000 step goal-per-day; equivalent to 5 miles. 

Like most people, reaching 10,000 steps on a given day would mean putting some effort into his activities. So he got serious. Now, each day he HAS to "Jiggle" ~ his word for the sensation you feel when the LED lights flash on your wrist upon reaching your target. 

"Jiggling" has become an obsession with Eddie.

 Shopping in below freezing temps? Too bad. We have to walk from the furthest parking spot so he can "Jiggle". Need to drop in at the mall to pick up a quick gift? The probability is that the perimeter of the mall needs walking; to "Jiggle", of course. Elevators and Escalators are bad words. Why use them when you can maximize on steps? Going to a casual party? The hors d'oeuvres table takes on new significance. Calculated correctly, several trips could gain one an extra 2,000 steps. Or one mile; assuming your stride length is 2.5 feet long and you keep the pace and speed moving as you talk. 

 At times, when the weather is colder and the daylight shorter, the steps have to be taken inside. The house, I mean. While this may seem fine to most, especially since we have a state-of-the-art treadmill, it is a quandary to Eddie. He hates walking in one place. As a result, there are times at 10 o'clock, PM that is, when the daily step achievement hasn't been met. He then begins to race with the tenacity of the Road Runner up and down the hallway, up and down steps, figure-eights around the living room furniture, counterclockwise around the dining room table, round and round the little rug in our bedroom....you get the picture. This behavior wouldn't disrupt the sleeping patterns of others in the house if he did it quietly, but no, you hear him puffing, huffing and swinging those arms like a windmill. And once those steps are achieved, anyone within the 5-mile hearing range gets the "I JIGGLED!!!" update. It's amazing to see how much bliss this little doodad gives a former leather chair recliner. Think Pavlov's bell. Reinforcement. Reinforcement. Reinforcement. 

 To amp it up a bit, Eddie's Smartphone now has an app that tracks his calories. The new math is: Calories - Steps = Weight Lose. In addition, the steps have begun to take on another dimension. Distance travelled. To date, according to this silent surveillance, Eddie's Lifetime steps are 2,794,536. Or 1,359 miles. In other words, if he had started walking last December, he'd be in Utah today.

 Perhaps he's the next Walk Across America candidate? 

 Who would have thought that a lightweight, silicone wristband could be the taskmaster of a single completed movement? The overseer of forward advancement? The Head Honcho of good health? I won't even go into the features it has to track your sleeping activity, patterns and efficiency (Fitbit's words, not mine), how may stairs your steps convert to or how many active minutes you've had in the day. To intensify and reinforce the experience, this little tracking tool even sends you congratulatory messages notifying you of your "Champ"! or "Overachiever" status! 

 Feeling a bit left out, I started looking around at wrists everywhere. On the street. At work. Grocery shopping. Even Baby Showers. Sure enough, more people than not are wearing these tracking widgets: FitBit, Jawbone, Nike & Vivofit. Keeping in fashion, Tory Burch has designed a FitBit in signature colors, patterns and designs so it can be worn as a stylish, trendy accessory. Now one can even attend a Black Tie event and "Jiggle"! Exercising has never been so chic! As a result, there's no need to feel guilty if you don't reach your daily ambition since you're at least being posh about it. No worries mate (!), tomorrow's tracking starts from scratch. 

A new day. Tabula rasa. 

So what's not to love about a bit of wrist supervision? 

 Lately, I'm having visions in my head of us both trying to keep up with this fitness management strategy (mine in Tory Burch Multi Fushia, please). Eddie and I will text all day: "Did you "Jiggle" yet?", comparing step counts, challenging each other on the Leaderboard and competing for Badges. All our conversations and activities will center around what we need to do to reach the coveted step goal. In our shared mission to become prodigies for Walkers World Wide, I see us passing each other in the hallway, high-fiving each other during our near-midnight frenzy to "Jiggle". 

 I'm trying real hard not to succumb to the peer pressure of it all. I keep repeating to myself: I. Do. Not Need. A. Fitness. Tracker. I. Do. Not. Need. A. Fitness. Tracker. As I see it, I have two choices: Start a support group for those of us who have to put up FTS...Fitness Tracker Syndrome or start walking and get counting - one-step, two-step, three-step, four...

I Heart Photo Challenge/Framed

Here is my I Heart Faces entry for this month:

JEEPIN' IT

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