the Heart Approaches What It Yearns

I saw two pictures of Monsieur’s mother; of course she’s gorgeous. One looks to be from just after World War II, with her and her husband, Monsieur’s father; the second must have been when they were living in California. It’s a picture of Monsieur, age about 18 months, standing at a marina at his mother’s knee.

She looks elegant and beautiful. I might post one of her pictures here, if I get Monsieur’s OK. Maybe severely cropped, so you can see the eyes. She looks like Liz Talyor circa Butterfield 8 or Jackie Kennedy, about 1961.

Monsieur is so sweet to me. He knows how insecure I am here and he goes out of his way to reassure me with a dozen little considerations a day. Not only does he cook, do housework, and take care of the children – well of course he does – but he does my laundry. I have never met a guy who does other people’s laundry, least of all mine. I don’t think I’ve ever seen my dad do laundry.

OK, it’s not just the laundry. He left me a note to tell me that he set up the VCR to record Coldplay on Austin City Limits, and then Commander-in-Chief. He fixed that annoying whistling noise coming through my car’s windshield. He showed me how to dice vegetables easily so that my wrist doesn’t get all tired. He seems to go out of his way to tell me that he believes in me, and that what I’m doing is worthwhile, appreciated, needed, and valuable.

And … [gasps] He took me to church! His church! And I wore red, which my mom would frown on for church – but then Monsieur’s church is one my mom would consider a “sect”. (It’s Unitarian, and actually very nice people.) A red dress is what I wore, with matching red tights, to church, on a shadowy Sunday.

It just makes me realize that there are three kinds of males that I have dealt with: boys, guys, and men. Up to now I’ve dated boys, and after that I was in relationships with guys. Now I’m with a man. Someone who takes care of a family and is confident in what he does.

I like it.