New Hope Counseling

Memories are meant to be shared.- Many authors This sentiment has been a dangerous one for me. I believed from a young age that family and friends are foreve...r. Don’t we start out as children seeking BFFs? Literally, physiologically, the frontal lobe which handles judgement, isn’t fully formed until age 25 so perhaps the notion of BFFs sets us up for an inevitable fall. We live. We learn. Somehow, the heart still seeks a shared life with someone. Marriage, our grownup BFF, is a promise to build and share life and memories. Years into marriage I realized no amount of effort, pictures or e-mails could replace time together. I remember standing in our kitchen with tears in my eyes, looking at Chris, finally acknowledging, It’s a lonely feeling to think these memories with our kids, will be my memories rather than ours. I suppose I started grieving the loss of a truly shared life that day in the kitchen. It was only recently though, that I realized a part of me continued to seek a sort of shared life, with friends or family.someone to share the day-to-day events and memories. The problem with life dealing blows that landed me in survival mode is, survival trumped the attention I could have otherwise given to relationships. Friendships changed without my desire or intention. The devil also being hard at work, provided ample opportunity for their pain to morph into irreparable damage, not typically ending friendships, but changing them. Like most peaceful places, I had to cross rough terrain, in order to get to the beauty. And there is beauty here. I realized recently, as is often the case, I had been seeking earthly answers to something only God could provide. We are supposed to have connection and relationship for support and strength. It is good to share memories, but perhaps the all-or-nothing, overachieving part of me misunderstood. Perhaps life was meant to be shared in moments with people, and only in its entirety with God. Spend time with Him. Share your life, your thoughts and your memories with the one who needs no explanation and pours love through them all. God is love. Love is worth it. Your time with Him, is worth it. Let Him love you well.

The best partner you’ll ever have isn’t the best looking, the funniest or the richest. It’s the one who makes you feel gorgeous, hilarious, and like a million ...dollars. It’s the one who makes you feel loved and wanted. - Author unknown. The truth is, marriage isn’t about what the other person has, it’s about how you feel when you’re with them. Take some time and think about something you’ve taken for granted with your loved one - maybe it’s something you loved when they first did it and they’ve done it so long, you’ve forgotten how really great it is. Go home and appreciate the heck out of your spouse for that thing they say or do that makes you feel great. If you can’t think of something, take initiative. Start a new pattern. You make the first compliment. Take them off guard with your praise and mean it. Do it often. Love somebody well.

And I, I took the road less travelled by - Robert Frost. Life with Chris was most certainly a road less travelled. It was beautiful, serene, rocky and full of... adventure. And, like most open, winding roads, it stirred my soul. Chris and I had a love of road trips in common. Music, holding hands, a spontaneous water fight with the squeegees at a gas station and later, embarking at the kids’ bedtime for cross-country trips. I think I was a good co-traveler. I was not a good co-pilot. Ever since I was a baby, I fell asleep in planes, trains and automobiles. Sadly, even as a driver. I worked up my tolerance to behind-the-wheel time over the years, but long road trips still proved a bit problematic. Chris would drive for 10 hours and pass the baton to me. I would get behind the wheel determined and caffeinated. Usually, in less than 3 hours, it was his turn again. Like most of life with me, Chris was patient. He was kind. He got behind the wheel and took us where we needed to be. Chris’s funeral procession was the longest in the history of the state of Texas... 174 miles.. from our town to the state cemetery. Most often, family follows the hearse. It makes sense, since there’s only one passenger seat next to the driver. My kids were with family on a luxury RV. The thought of missing one last road trip with this man who cared for me, felt like missing an important opportunity to care for him, to travel one last road, together. Interstates were shut down to the public, every overpass was lined with Texans holding flags and signs. There were firetrucks and ceremonial flags flowing from cranes, a helicopter with snipers on overwatch, not out of need, but respect. The rain, the quiet, the lights, the peopleChris’s body as close as it would ever be againbut his spirit as strong as ever. I wouldn’t have missed that time, or any other time, on open roads traveling with him. Go for a walk. Go for a drive with a loved one while they are living and able to share the things that are harder to say face to face, but feel easier looking out the expanse of a windshield. Let an open road stir your soul. Take a road less traveled. Connect. Talk. Love. It’s worth it.

A wild love, with a gentle soul Author Unknown. There wasn’t a lack of love or desire. There was a gap we needed to close. There was a time I grew tired of t...he weeks away for training trips, the missed calls, the bar fights that they didn’t start, but finished. The team (off the record) bailing them out of jail. The infidelity of spouses around us. Tired of being a grown up taking care of all of the less fun details of home and work life. At some point, I felt like I made enough effort and it was Chris’s turn to put the effort in to get closer to me. Chris sensed me pulling away and took it as me losing interest in him, which in turn pained him. He introverted too. We both went into our shell wishing the other would come closer. A counselor asked Chris, As an analogy, do you feel like a wild horse Taya would like to tame? Chris replied, Yes. Tame me and keep me corralled up. The counselor looked at me. I was dumbfounded. My vision is loving a wild, majestic stallion who roams free. When he hears my footsteps on the porch, he turns and bolts toward me, slowing as he approaches, gently nuzzling my neck, and sidling up to be close to me. Then, he runs free again. A wild love, with a gentle soul. That’s what I had in the beginning with Chris and it’s what I had in the end. The middle was rocky when we both lost that part of us that used words like, I don’t want to fight. What can I do to make it right? Rather, we got quiet. Hurting, we retreated into our shells waiting for the other one to love us. Remember what it’s like to feel the excitement of hearing your beloved’s footsteps on the porch. Believe your beloved wants you and wants love as much as you do. The truth is, we all want an adventurous love, a wild love, with a gentle soul. Use words - not about their behavior, but your own. Explain it. Give your beloved a chance to see the same picture you do. Communication closes the gap. It makes the heartbeat of life and love, come alive again.

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