Greetings from Venus: Letter to My Husband Revisited

A Post About a Post

There are times when I say or do things that come out wrong, like the time when I was teaching a youth Sunday School lesson about chastity and said, “After all, sex does feel good. That’s why we all like it so much.” I paused, then added, “And that’s why we do it so often.” Immediately after these words left my mouth I wanted to stuff them back in and mold them into something more delicately put, something more saintly. But it was too late. The girls in the class, who were fourteen and fifteen years old, just stared at me. Some began to giggle. Others cupped their hands to their lips and whispered to each other. Most sat silently looking at the light fixture on the ceiling.

“Yes, well,” I said, searching for some way to clarify my statement. And, finding none, cleared my throat and said, “Let’s move on, shall we?”

And then there are those choice times when I write things that look great in my head but come out all wrong. If these things were written in a journal that I could later burn, it would be no big deal. But it’s not so great when I send these words in a letter or post them on a public blog.

Take Monday’s post, for example. I had intended to write about a morning when my husband caught me slacking in the house-cleaning department and I ended up scrubbing the toilet instead of photographing food, which is what I really wanted to do. As I was kneeling at the commode, some of my hair slipped out of my ponytail and dipped into the toilet bowl. Even though technically the water should have been sanitized by the Comet I had poured in, it felt like I had just gone for a swim in the city sewer. That’s when I started to whine about how much I dislike cleaning up this little bathroom my husband and I share. My mind filled with a long list of grievances big and small—all aimed at my husband--as I dragged a pumice stone across the toilet with an angry scritch scratch.

And then I remembered a friend who recently lost her husband to cancer. I remembered how I had cried on the way to my car after going to the viewing, thinking of how lonely my life would be without my husband. I thought of all the things I love about him, like when I asked him what he wanted to grow up to be when he was a kid and he answered, “I just wanted to be a great dad.” I thought of how funny, helpful and kind he is. And always has been.

Cleaning the bathroom took on new meaning. Instead of a chore, it became an act of love, a small offering to a man I am totally crazy about after fourteen years of marriage and three kids. My inner monologue started up, unraveling a letter to my husband so seemingly eloquent that I ran to a notebook to get it down on paper.

I posted this letter on my blog and anxiously waited for my husband to come home. I checked my email a dozen times, waiting for his reaction, which I assumed would be somewhere between contentment and euphoria. But there was only silence. By the end of the day it became clear that something was horribly, terribly wrong.

It turns out that I had done it again. I had sent this piece from my perch on Venus, assuming that my husband would read it the way I thought I wrote it. But once it reached him on Mars, all of my intentions imploded. Instead of a love letter, my husband felt I had written a critique, the kind of note you leave a college room mate when they’ve eaten the last of your food or used your toothpaste one too many times. I had rushed past the cardinal rule in writing: know your audience. In this case, my primary audience was my husband, a man who has stuck with me through three rounds of post partum depression, frequent PMS tornadoes that hit without warning, and numerous sessions of self-doubt. Add to that an odd habit of rescuing stray furniture and a complete lack of organizational skills both as a mother and a homemaker and you can understand why I often wonder what he sees in me.

So we talked. I came to understand that a few words and a sentence here and there were hurtful, not helpful to my husband, ruining the overall effect. If you already read the post on Monday, what you will see today is a little different. A little shorter, a little less angry, a little more loving. A lot more like what I had intended. My husband reads the letter again and tells me that it makes him feel like sweeping me off my feet. I smile. And I resist the urge to say, “Would you mind sweeping the kitchen floor instead?”  Because that would be from Venus and he is from Mars.

Comments

[Susan Sudol]

It's sunday night and I am just reading your blog. Love everything you write. Love the picture of Rick! Love the pictures of the cookies and flowers, Love you!

[Paisley Kleinhenz]

You and I could have been twins separated at birth. I just started reading your blog and I identify with just about every post you write. It is nice to know someone, even someone I don't know, can really get me! Thanks!

[Nicole]

Just to let you know, I totally "got" your post yesterday. I loved it so much that I told Jamey about it at the dinner talble last night. He's going to kill me for saying this, but he actually had a tear in his eye. I love reading your musings and thank you for allowing me to catch a glimpse into your family's life. I'm sure it's not easy to open up like that--but it is very honest and real and we can all relate!
p.s. I love the picture of Rick, how is it that he never ages?

[Jana]

It seems like no matter what I do when I write about my extended family, I manage to offend someone. This writing stuff is hard--our own truths are so subjective and it's tough to tell stories that are "true" but aren't all pollyanna.

[MaryBeth]

You've done it again--made everything so clear! I think all the "Venitians"(?) knew what you were trying to say, but we never thought about how it might be taken differently by "Martians". I guess sometimes we have to step back and try to see and hear things from their point of view too. This was a good reminder.
~~To Rick....The whole family thinks you are a great dad! and brother-in-law! and uncle! and husband! to our nephews and our sister / aunt! :)