Love lessons

As I emerge from the pit of my grief and blink into the bright light of life, I find that I am continuously benefiting from the experience of having been loved by Storm, and the lessons I took in during that time.  I don’t think I’ve yet realized all of the things I learned from him, and his love, and I am always gratified to find another layer underneath the already rich soil for planting this new life.

Lately, I’ve been realizing what he taught me about “want.”  What I want.  The power of my own want.  What it means to want. What exactly do I want?  What others want, and how much weight I should give to that, and for whom.  

As a child, want was not a word we much used.  We were not destitute, but we were pretty poor, so each of us learned young that to need something was ok, but things we wanted we were probably not getting.   Asking might even get us in trouble, if it was a ridiculous enough item, or we asked too much.  Sometimes, maybe, for a birthday or another occasion, but wanting was useless.  Want was a luxury we could rarely afford.

As an adult, my experience wasn’t much different.  I didn’t want to work, yet work was where I was spending my time.  I wanted to homeschool my children, but I couldn’t work and teach them at the same time.  I didn’t want to get fat when I quit smoking, but there it is.  I began to learn in life that what I want doesn’t matter.   

This sort of thinking has been dangerous for me in the past.  Giving in to the idea that what I wanted didn’t matter caused me to make some of the worst mistakes I’ve ever made.  It was only when I began to grab on to the power of my own want that I began to understand the importance of that want in making my life successful. 

Storm was excellent for developing that in me.  If I said I wanted a garden, he would create a garden in our kitchen for me, and then in our outdoor space.  If I said I wanted a dark bedroom, our room was transformed into a cave. If I wanted enchiladas for dinner, he was going to learn how to make them right then and there.   I would tell him, “You don’t have to do all of that.”  He would say, “I don’t have to do a damn thing.  I do it because you want it, darlin, and that’s reason enough.”  If I said I didn’t want pork in my house, it was banned.  “I know what you think we should do.”  He would say. “Now what do you want?”  As if that’s what mattered.  You know what?  I found out it did.   

It worked the same with him.  He liked beer; we bought beer.  He liked snow peas; we grew lots of snow peas.  He despised guacamole, I never expected him to touch it.  I learned to ask him; “I know what you think…what do you want?”

Now he’s gone, but that lesson remains.  The what I want is important to me, and because of the loving bluntness of my husband, I was so blessed to be given the opportunity to learn how important it is to be able to articulate what I want.  

I don’t want to be in a relationship.  I want to be single.  I kinda like it.  I know that’s not the popular viewpoint . Most single women want to be married.  But I’m not like other women that way.  We are all walking our own path.  I’ve been in one relationship or the other my entire life, since I was 14.  I’ve never been single longer than six months until Storm died.  I don’t really remember not being someone’s girlfriend or shack-up or fiancé or wife or something.  It seems like one is always waiting behind the last one.  It is lovely to be so desired, but it is also lovely to be alone for a minute.  For the first time ever, I am just Rose.  I am Yah’s Rose, and that’s enough.  

I find single life liberating.  I WANT (there’s that word again) to be in control of my time and attention.  I WANT to choose who with and how I spend my time and give my attention.  I want to be able to say no, or yes, and have that be ok.  I want to be able to enjoy a diversity of people.  I WANT to go do fun things with people I like, and that should be ok.   I want to travel and see things, sometimes throwing my stuff into a bag and leaving with no notice.  I want to boss myself, and not always hide in the safety of indentured servitude.  I want to eat Fritos and Hershey bars in my bed with the grandkids while we watch E.T.  Being single means I can do all of those things, and it impacts no one but me.

I am familiar with people not liking me for it.  In the memorable words of Storm, “F**k the f**king f**kers.”  In politer words; who cares what people think?  Live like you gotta live and let them take care of themselves.  I’m not afraid to stand on what I want, until what I want changes, and then to stand on that.  I’m not afraid to stick up for it, and I’m not even afraid to take a few punches for it.  I’m broken in my heart and spirit, but I’m healing daily, and I’m becoming a lot more comfortable saying no and yes as I need to.  On the things I don’t know what I want, and there are plenty, then I err on the side of caution, and I will linger before making a decision, at least on the important matters.  On the less important things, too.  Most things don’t require an immediate response. 

There are benefits I am beginning to see from these love lessons.  They cause me to walk softly into the relationship world, carefully willing to withdraw.  They make me see things I can't forget.

 Things like:  Good things are worth waiting for.  That I shouldn't have to rearrange my life unless I want to or need to for my own reasons.  That I'm not beholden to anyone but my boss and my family.  That no one can make me do something I don't want.  That my physical needs are important, and I should take care of them, even if it means other people gotta wait, including him.  I'm at my best when I feel like I'm comfortable enough to say what I want.  It's ok that I want to be heard, and that I want what I say to be believed.  Saying no or yes is ok.  It's safe to be wrong.  The truth is worth speaking, even when it's hard to say or hear.  It's all right if other people are butthurt.  I am not a house or car that needs fixing up before someone can buy her.  I deserve to be loved for who I am, not some image of who I am that someone else expects me to live up to.   When these things, and more, don't seem to be right, I have to turn away.

I also want people to turn away if they see things that are warning signs for them.  I don’t want to be what someone doesn’t want.  I’m sure there are things I do that cause others to not want to be in relationship or partnership with me.  I could list my many faults, and I know others who could add to that list.  If that happens, I want that person to turn away from me, because I don’t ever want to be the cause of anyone’s hurt.   Rejection is not personal.  It’s often as much about the person doing the rejecting as it is about the rejectee, in my experience. 

At one point, I wanted to reject Storm and all of his lessons.  The circumstances of his death were so powerful and so painful that I wanted to shove all of it, including him, far away.  It feels like he took a piece of my soul to the grave with him.  But what he left behind was a love that was so complete and so good that I learned lessons on life from the very fabric of that love surrounding me.  I learned how to be who I am from that love.  The legacy of his love is the strength of that fabric inside of me today. 

What we want matters.  We can’t always get what we want, in the immortal words of a legendary rocker, but being confident in what we want will help us to make sure we don’t end up with what we don’t want.  Thank you, YHVH for Storm, and thank you, Storm, for your love.

Shalom