God bless my husband. As the teens say, “for reals.” Years ago he joked that when we were older he’d move into another house we admired in the development to escape the female hormones he knew were coming to our home.
:Last weekend he had every right to run to that house and not look back. We have a teenaged daughter and then there’s me. If menopause won’t knock me out, my hormone imbalance sure threatens. I take prescription medication to help with anxiety that menopause escalates. I learned with the last bottle I was shortchanged, and insurance wouldn’t pay for a refill. I had a different medication on hand that my doctor told me to stop taking in favor of the new one. I used that, but even that was running low. Results? Racing thoughts. Hot flashes. Headache. And tears. Tears for no reason.
Add the teenaged daughter’s tears and mine and you have a husband that should run for the hills. But he didn’t.
After church, I looked out our back window and noticed how rustic our fire pit, fallen yellow leaves, and log pile looked. Whether it was creativity or a medicinal withdrawal, I had a vision. I figured it would never fly, it sounded too Pinterest-y and that’s not quite my husband’s interest.
I gathered my weepy self to share the vision with him. His eyes lit up after the first sentence. Next thing I knew, we were calling down to our son and asking for his help. Blanket and frame in hand, the three of us headed to the leaves.
And our son captured us in what we called a belated 25th anniversary picture. Part of the idea was to include our wedding picture. Tom loved it. We love the results.
It was a spontaneous idea during an emotional weekend.
So glad Tom didn’t make a run for it.