Laden with Thoughts

During service on Sunday morning I realized my stomach was upset, so I left the room and sat on a chair outside of the worship center. While I waited for the service to finish I applied myself to the important task of people-watching (one of my very favorite occupations). For the most part the only souls my gaze encountered were mothers trying to comfort their fussy babies and a few wayward children who seemed to have escaped the grasp of their over-burdened Sunday school teachers. The former chatted happily with each other, comparing weights and heights of their respective children. The latter amused themselves by running in and out of bathrooms and taking frequent trips up and down on the elevator.

Just before service was due to be over, a door across the hall opened and two women emerged from one of the classrooms. One of the women, Beth, was escorting the other to the kitchen (apparently in the hopes of obtaining donuts to bring back to the rest of the class). The other woman, who is mentally retarded and goes to the Agape Sunday school class that Beth teaches, suddenly turned to Beth and shouted:

“Guess what!”

Beth turned to her. “Yes?”

The woman threw her arms in the air and said, triumphantly, “Today is my BIRTHDAY!”

Beth yelled in return, “Hooray! What a GREAT day!”

As I sat watching the two women hugging and laughing, tears came to my eyes and I laughed with them. I had envied the mothers who held beautiful children in their arms, and I had envied the children running heedlessly around the building without a care in the world. But now I mostly envied the birthday girl and all the joy she found in something which I had long ago forgotten to find so worthy of joy.

There’s so much I love about being married that it would take me days to explain it all. I don’t know if there is anything more fulfilling to me to wake up in the morning and realize that I belong to someone, and he belongs to me. After a year of marriage I am still very happy and looking forward to future years to come.

One thing that I may never get used to is my husband’s family gatherings. In my family, parties are quiet and civilized. No one yells or tells dirty jokes or drinks just to get drunk. In my husband’s family, things are quite the opposite. Yesterday my sister-in-law had a huge graduation party at the house. At the beginning I was having a good time but once the booze was flowing and the party became more rowdy I felt very uncomfortable and made frequent trips into the house to “take out the dog”. When Josh asked what was wrong I told him, “I don’t belong here. I just want to go home.”

Living with my in-laws is wonderful in many ways, and I care for them deeply. But a part of me still can’t consider this place my home. As happy as I am living in this apartment with my husband there are lots of days when I want to drive to Sherborn, pull in my parents’ driveway, go inside and curl up on my bed in my room. I’m still most comfortable in my parents’ house. I wonder when that feeling of comfort and support will follow me into the home I now inhabit.