- Jennifer Z. Major
Nope. I did NOT marry my best friend.
I totally *get* why some people say they married their best friend. And ya know, great.
But I did not.
In my opinion, a happily married woman needs best friends who are females and who understand life as a female.
Why? Because a best friend would never wreck a girl's new shoes.
I married the man who kicked dirt all over my new white Keds the very first time we met. It was a softball game. I came specifically to check him out, just to hush up a few friends who thought he and I would hit it off. I was prepared to come, observe, and leave. Never to worry about That Guy again.
He was on 2nd base, I ran there, after hitting the ball like a girl with wet nail polish and no athletic skill whatsoever.
He saw my white shoes and laughed. Then kicked dirt on them. I wanted to ask him what grade he was in.
That same night, he moved 4 chairs out of his trunk and into the back seat of his (hideously ugly) car in order to fit my road bike inside, so I didn't ride home from near UBC to Cambie and 20th, in the dark.
A 45 minute ride, by the way. Even though a very nice lady , who lived 6 blocks from me, was all ready to stick my bike in her car. Did I mention he lived a solid 20-30 minutes from me?
I married the guy who would call me in Vancouver, on Sunday nights, from where he was staying in Oregon on one of his work trips. Because he missed me.
I married the guy to whom I had to teach the fine art of whispering in church, because his home church was a church for deaf people. Thus, whispering, or talking in full voice, was no big deal.
I married the guy who liked to hike in the mountains around Vancouver and then get us Burger King take-out, so we could enjoy the sunsets from our perch on the beach at Spanish Banks. (Near Jericho Beach)
That same guy had a book called The Great Trees of Vancouver. It was a book of hikes to the biggest trees around my city. One day, we decided to find a certain one out near Lynn Canyon.
Wellllll, let's just say one of us was testy, and the other wasn't going to put up with it. Why was he testy? Because there were HUNDREDS of itty bitty frogs making their way across the main path and I kept stopping to look at them. They were no more than an inch across. They were adorable! His mindset was "they're ALL the same, who cares?"
He told me to hurry up. I suggested he go and find his stupid tree and I'll find a spot to relax and read my book.
I always had a book in my pack. Which drove him nuts. "Why do you read so much?"
I found a nice spot along the riverbank, in the shade of a jumble of aged, bleached-out logs and faded river rocks. It was basically a giant nest. I spread out my beach towel, leaned back against the log, and read and dozed for hours. Did I mention the frogs were hopping all around me? So cool!
Anyway, he stomped off into the woods, grumbling about finding the tree and how THAT was the purpose of the day, not reading and frog watching!
He arrived back at my nest a couple of hours later, fuming mad, like, fuming, and covered in sweat.
To find me half asleep.
Ohhhh, that made him MAD!
I asked him how his hike was. "I didn't even find the tree! I got lost! HOW WAS YOUR AFTERNOON!?!?!?! Did the frogs keep you company while you read your book???"
Wow, there was a lot of snark in that.
Yawn..."Yes, they did. I read. I napped. I listened to frogs. I watched people. I had a lovely afternoon."
And that's when it clicked for him.
In his pursuit of one tree, and the blinders he put on that blocked out the beauty around him, he MISSED THE WHOLE POINT.
It wasn't about finding the tree and ticking that off the list of accomplishments, it was about a relaxing Sunday afternoon, outside on a summer day, watching things like tiny frogs and how they crossed a great expanse to get to the river.
In his purpose, he grew weary. In mine? I grew strength from resting.
That was the day that the concept of "stop and smell the roses" finally kicked in.
And when "remember the frogs" became a bit of a buzz phrase for us.
Is he my best friend now? No, that job position is filled.
But he's my husband, and I wouldn't trade him for the world.
Although I'd be fine if he got rid of his beard!!