Mush

We all loved Mush at some point. Perhaps it was in the form of a lumpy bowl of cream of wheat served with butter and sugar, or perhaps a bowl of torn bread served with milk, salt and pepper. Maybe that bowl of steel cut oats served with date sugar just hit the spot to perfection one morning! Well, this post about to get Mushy, like it or not.

Over the last ten years, C has been an amazing companion, husband, friend, confidant, cheerleader, and all around good person. Somehow he manages to still love me despite my prickly parts and blunt communication (no sugar on this bowl of mush). Recently he cleaned all of the weeds out of my nightmare flowerbed. It is filled with solid clay soil, and if it has not been soaked for several days with rain, those weeds have ironclad immunity from the spade.

One night, I was on the couch doing my homework, and he called from the guest bedroom, "Hey babe, could I have about ten minutes of your time?" I knew he was working on folding the laundry that had accumulated over the past few weeks. I was behind on my studies and finally had time to work on them.

"No!" I called out.

"Many hands make light work!"

"No!"

"Please, just ten minutes..."

"Grrr. Five!"

I then walked to the kitchen and set the timer for five minutes. I helped fold and put away clothes, taking a large load of items to my closet and then started working on the piles of folded clothing that were already there. Some time passed by before I called out, "Did my timer go off?"

"No!" C said in his obviously-trying-to-get-the-most-of -my-pseudo-willingness-to-clean tone. We both laughed.

For Mother's Day Weekend, C treated me like a queen, even if at the end of the day, despite all of that great treatment, I got a little emotional. Still, he did everything he could to keep my spirits up on the one day I allow my heart to feel a little sad. After all, what good does it do to feel bad all of the time about a 'someday?' None at all, I say. A positive attitude is a kindness to yourself and to those around you. Well, C is a pretty positive guy, but the most important part is that he's positive when I'm not. He fills my sails with air when they are drooping on a breeze-less sea.

C is a blessing to a stranger. He is the man who will run into a burning house with no thought of his own life, and then walk away with no acknowledgement. Once we were roller-blading up the canyon on a rather steep trail and stopped at a gate. A girl screamed, "Get out of the way! Get out of the way!" Beyond the gate was a sharp turn followed by a narrow tunnel, which at her speed she would surely wreck, and if she didn't make the tunnel, she would crash against a large pile of boulders.

Without thinking twice, C stepped in front of the flailing girl, and she slammed into him with full force, knocking the air out of him. He caught her so that when she fell backward, she was unharmed, although his hands were gouged from the fall. So there I was, I new bride, looking down at my husband lying on top of another young lady, and all I could think was, he's a superhero!

I could continue on forever on this, talking about times when he spent an hour helping a 4x4 truck get unstuck when we were in our little car, the times he helped dig people out of the snow, or stopped to help someone, or times when neighbors or friends have asked him for help or advice, or a listening ear, or times when we get a late-night knock at the door, and even though he is asleep in bed, he gets up and goes to help, no matter the hour.

I could tell you about the time when he went to visit a prison with some classmates, and rather than let the girls feel harassed at the catcalls, took the attention away from them by calling out, "You mean ME?" and sacheting down the hall. I could tell you about how the youth in our church group flock to him like the pied piper when he walks in the room, or look dismayed when we leave a youth dance, because he is so much fun, or how he convinces them to come on long, hot, youth activities like pioneer treks just because he believes they can do it.

I could tell you how he is patient and kind, generous, hardworking, how he has never left the toilet seat up in ten years of marriage, and how I have never had to ask him to mow the lawn or change the oil. I could tell you how I trust him even in the most compromising situations because he is not for sale, and his mind and heart are not even mine. They belong to God first. I could tell you all of these things, and a thousand more, but then, wouldn't that just be a whole lot of MUSH?