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My Profile
She blinded him with whiteness - 2008-07-25
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10:59 a.m. - 2007-12-25
I hope I can get this out right. A Christmas miracle deserves to be shared properly so everybody can see the miracle for themselves. What with one thing and another we didn't start doing the house up for Christmas until yesterday. The tree had been languishing on the porch for a week. Finally the Christmas spirit kicked in and a frenzy of holiday hoo-hah began. Up to the attic for The Stuff. I found the tree stand and the big plastic crates with the lights and tree ornaments just fine. But the big box with all the other Christmas things- the stockings and the weighted hangers, the silver wire reindeer, my collection of 'Rudolph' figurines, all the stuff that doesn't go on the tree but has always been part of Christmas was gone. Tore the attic apart. The cellar and closets and every nook and cranny in the entire house was turned out. Nada. That box was gone. Where? Why? I don't know. We got the tree up and decorated. It came out great. We all snuggled on the couch together and watched A Christmas Story. The glow from the lights on the tree the only competition for the TV's glare. After the movie I decided to give the attic one more going over. That box just had to be there! Nope. By now Wolf was in bed and I gave vent to my outrage and hurt. Mick listened while I cried and stormed over this latest evidence of Mike's fuckery. I mean, my God, how damn hard was it to put a box back in the attic? Where else could he have possibly put it? Last year's debacle with him taking the kids away and me spending Christmas alone was horrible enough. Now it seemed he'd managed to screw up the year before that too and somehow lost all the Christmas stuff. Two Christmases in a row shot to hell. Thanks so much, Mike. It was the stockings that hurt worst. What kind of Christmas could there be with no stockings? I had two big sacks of stocking stuffers! I cried and cried and cried. Mick understood. He saw how desperate I was to have our first Christmas together be wonderful. He knew my fierce need to put my past behind me. My past with its bitterness and mess and unrelenting, so horribly unnecessary pain. Mick made a phone call. Told me to hang tight, he'd be back soon as he could. I tried to stop him from leaving, I'd be fine. Christmas would be fine without stockings. Please, please don't go to this trouble. He was having none of it. Kissed me and said everything would be fine right down to the stockings. Not to worry, he'd get it done. He was back within the hour. Grinning he pulled an enormous felt stocking from a grocery bag. And more stockings! Crocheted ones. Oodles of them! Two regular sized ones. Scads of wee bitty ones. It was a Christmas stocking bonanza! His mother, of course. MIL is always awesomely prepared for any situation. When Mick called she trotted into her 'arts and crap' room and pulled the stockings from her storehouse of just-in-case goodies. Miracle enough right there, wouldn't you say? You could, but that's not the real miracle. The real miracle was me realizing I wouldn't be made to 'pay' for Mick's trouble. He wasn't going to exact revenge on me for 'making' him go out and fetch stockings for worthless me. He wasn't going to spend today being a hateful dick and reminding me I owed him. Mick wasn't going to punish me for needing him. Far from being resentful and nasty, Mick was delighted. Delighted he could make things all better for me. Happy to make me happy. There was no revenge to be taken. No score to settle. Nothing I had to 'make up for'. It was Mick's pleasure to do for something for me. This was the real miracle. To truly understand I was safe now. It was okay to want something. It was more than okay to have Mick do something for me. He wants to do things for me. I wasn't wracking up a debt I'd have to work off with tears and humiliation. The man actually believes it's his job to do for me. It made him proud and happy he could get those stockings. That he could save my Christmas. The idea that he would make me 'pay' for his effort, that he should resent and punish me for daring to have a need…who could operate like this? Whose thinking was so screwed? Was it possible that anyone could be that selfish? Yeah. It was. When I explained to Mick just how huge his gift was he cried. Stunned and horrified by the way I had to live all those years. The degradation and inhumanity. Not even allowed to want something? That I had to 'pay' for Mike's participation in anything that benefitted me at all? Mike thought I 'owed' him for just being here? And exacted retribution for making 'excessive' demands like talking to me or remembering to turn off the lights when he left a room? Sick. It was sick. Sick, very very very sick. Fortunately Mick is here with the cure. I will be a long time healing. We both know this. At least I can get well. Last night was another shaky step on the path to being whole. Mick brought me Christmas stockings and all I had to 'give' him in return was to be happy. My happiness is all he ever wants.
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