Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Part II

Jason and I continued on from the gas station, driving another hour in the rain and then we reached our destination. Promptly after pulling off on our exit, Jason missed our turn. Logically and much like a woman I assumed he would take the next turn and backtrack to our missed street.

Um, no, that's a big negatory, good buddy.

He decided he could totally navigate this town that he hasn't lived in since he was a little boy. It could make a girl nervous, but my hubs has a fantastic track record of navigating around towns he's been to a few times. For instance? He got us all around Denver and Boulder three years ago when we went to see Depeche Mode. He remembered the way from the times he had traveled there to spin records. I was pretty sure that we couldn't get lost in a town this small and told him as much. It seemed nearly impossible.

As we drove down little streets, some of them paved in bricks, he pointed out familar sights - the park he played at as a kid, the stadium where his uncle and dad broke records (which in a town that size, seemed more inevitable than impressive) the porch his kid brother fell off of, the houses they had lived in.

Traveling down memory lane with my husband made me feel closer to him than I already did. I pictured him as a little boy, climbing the jungle gyms and pumping his little legs to make the swings go higher and higher. Sharing in those happy moments with him was awesome. There is nothing more I want for my husband than for him to be a happy little boy. I know those happy moments were few for him.

As we wound our way closer to the church the sadness came back into his voice. As we pulled into the parking lot he started remembering being at that very church. He couldn't remember why and then his voice dropped and he said "government cheese - we came here for government cheese." He looked at me and said that I didn't know anything about that, did I? I told him that I did not. But I remembered the kids who had to use the free cheese boxes to keep their crayons together in school. In that moment he looked like the sad little boy he was remembering being and asked "Why would my dad let that happen? Why would he accept that? I would NEVER do that." As he looked at me my heart confirmed what he was saying. My husband would never do that. Pride aside, my husband works so very hard to take care of his family.

With that he stepped out of the car and moved quickly to get his little boy's stuff together so we could rush him in without rain touching his precious, blonde head. As Jason looked at Ian I could see the pride return to him.

Next:

Entring the Church.

5 comments:

Allie Bear said...

I remember taking my aunt to the church to pick up the goverment cheese, it always smelled funny and the butter was the worst, it tasted horrible.
When our family couldn't make it my aunt helped out and shared her food from the government, it was a long time ago and I had forgotten about it until I read that post.
Thanks for reminding me where I came from, I think it's always good to remember that.

KaritaG said...

Exactly why I don't really care to "go home again..." Thanks for sharing...it's always interesting, no matter how long you have been married, the things that come up like that, that sort of give you a new perspective on the person you think you know so well, don't you think? And I mean that in a positive way.

Dirty Pirate Hooker said...

Awwww, how sad. I worked my ass off when I had the punk to not have to collect govt. cheese, and this makes me think that the punk won't hate me later in life afterall.

Lisa..... said...

I totally ate government cheese that we stood in line at the baptist church for, and that shit did not taste good. Those memories are definitly not ones filled with pride.

Kat said...

I'm all teary. Great story.