Looking up my Past

 When I first met my husband, I remember being enthralled by my husband driving.  He had a bunch of nervous habits, which I didn’t quite understand at the time, but I did love the way he often licked his lips and his habit of brushing his lips with his hand.  These are signs of love, and I still find them adorable, almost fifty years later.  I think what makes people fall in love is not big things, but it’s the little things that make a difference.

Another thing I like is his rumbling of his hair.  It should be annoying, and in a way, it is, especially as he now has very little hair on top, but the truth is, his habits are endearing, not all of them, but a lot of them.

I also love his habit of sneezing, but he hates it.  When I sneeze, he insists I cover my mouth, but he never does.  He seems to think it’s awful of me, but not necessary if he sneezes.  And it doesn’t bother me, except that it’s so unfair.   Now I also love another habit he hates, which is not answering.  He will listen to me for many minutes but have nothing to say in response.  I used to hate it, but now I see how his mind operates, I see conversation as a one-way street, and either of us may speak, but he expects no response and hates it that I wish we spoke alternately.  But this does not happen.  We take turns spouting something without a response.  Why?  We do it now because I like it.  It is a key to how his mind works, which is so different than my own.  I now see how seldom it is, with any of us, that real conversation ensues.  Yet we learn what we need to know, and apply it, nevertheless.  

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