Living on the farm two miles from The In-laws can be… colorful.
As anyone in the independent farming culture – or character from the TV show “Everybody Loves Raymond” – can tell you, it’s that there are times when a person’s constant presence can be overwhelming and quickly tests your patience.
In the early years of our marriage, my grace and understanding were nearly choked to death by various differences, usually due to a “this is how we did things growing up” mentality.
And more often than not, I would look my husband square in the face, scissors in hand ready to cut the apron (or bale) strings myself, and wonder what I got myself into and whether their daily home visit routine was going to last forever.
Each time, however, with gritted teeth I chose to take a step back and look at the situation through the lens of my new parents, and many times this brought me to my knees of the basement-dwelling oak chest, filled with well-organized photo albums of Country Man’s youth.
And by doing so, I was given the gift of a glimpse into the people who loved him first…
A glimpse into the woman who gave him his first kiss,
and taught him about playful lovin’…
Each flip of the page told me more about the people who nurtured these deliciously plump legs,
and with gentle touching, guided his squishy arms into a survivable hug hold…
They gave him his first view from the top,
and first taste of life on the wild side…
Showed him the simple joys in life,
often discovered in simple wrapping paper…
or a blanket square tightly wound.
Ah, she’s not so bad, he decides after time…
Parents who gave him a boy’s best friend,
and the boy who learned the more, the merrier, right?
Putting the album back into place, I breath a silent thank you to the people who created this blue-eyed, animal loving hunter
(yes, they exist).
The man still filled with their sacrificial love,
and with that love experienced, now pours it on to those around him.
With that sought-after understanding, patience wins another day.