The reason Hoss and I look so goofy happy in this picture is because we’re so sure we’re about to make our pile in the Oregon State lottery. We have a fifty-fifty deal going and none of my numbers- the ones I worked so hard to conjure up- paid out. But that’s okay because I know for sure that Hoss is holding the winning three tickets and he’ll send me an e-mail later today. Then, of course, we’ll have to fade into obscurity rather than have you all bother us for a piece of the pie.
The reason I know Hoss is holding the winning ticket is because I met him and I now know just how lucky he is. You know the one about "behind every good man…?" Hoss has luck in spades in that department. It’s not my place to elaborate- just know it’s true. Plus, Hoss gets Sysco food delivered right to his door at the home. He could be getting Aramark (that’s the crap we get on Northworst Airlines, the $3.00 snack box with 5000 times your daily requirement of sodium so you’ll sit in your seat and never pee again) but he gets Sysco. I saw the truck.
The other really lucky thing Hoss has is saintliness. The other day he gave the definition of saintly at his place and believe me when I say, in addition to the charming b-s he delivers daily he also has pockets full of elephant poop.
This is not really apropos of nothing but it might seem like it. A number of years ago my father had a fairly massive stroke and I arrived by plane that same evening. We sat up together through the night.He had much he wanted to say and he couldn’t say much of anything. Over thirty years of psychotherapy practice I have seen children with such severe stutters that they try hard but can’t articulate a word. I’ve also worked with many children who have pervasive developmental delays of the sort that renders them speechless. Add to that a few people who have been so traumatized by life that they have no words left for day to day living and I’ve spent some time with people who have many important thoughts and no way to utter them.
Many of us prattle on endlessly without much content just to fill air time so it can be a discomfiting experience to be with someone who can’t say what’s on their mind. Also, if you’re going to be in the company of someone of few or no words you need to shut up long enough, let go of your own anxiety over the silence long enough and focus enough to hear what they’re not saying. Which is sometimes a great deal more than you might think. I met someone who was silent recently and her silence was golden.
A couple of you might have noticed that marriage can be a testy state of affairs at times. I’ve referred to the fact that a fundamental difference between FG and me is that he is much better suited to change, excitement and the unknown while I prefer an advance peek around every corner and then some time to stand stock still and consider whether I’m making the turn.
Yesterday we took some time out from life together, much the way I did alone the day before. The Oregon Coast is stunning and crab is in season and the sky was brilliant and clear. We stopped at numerous overlooks and beaches as well as seafood shacks ( Yes! In Heaven you get to live on fresh dungeoness crab and salt water taffy!).
My camera gave me nothing but grief. In large part it was just near impossible to take a good shot in 60 mile per hour winds and that’s how fast they were blowing all along the crest. It was hard enough to get the car door open or stand still but to take a picture FG had to brace his legs and wrap himself around me, holding my elbows snug. Even then, it made for great snuggling but blurred images. So, there’s not much to show you for my efforts but we did see seals without descending into the Infamous Seal Cave of Poop and we saw Murres (the little white bellied upright birds on the rocks). And beautiful waves and sun and skies and a glimpse of our kinder, gentler selves.