Thursday, February 10, 2011

Everyday Love

I fall in love with my husband several times a day every day.

It starts when I open my eyes in the morning and lay my sight beside the sleeping figure beside me.

He would lazily then turn his face towards me and starts to open his own eyes and instinctively draw me near to him with a warm embrace. Most days he will mouth the words “I love you” before he slowly gets up at 6 AM to prepare for work. Those moments before I myself slowly extricate myself from bed to cook breakfast, I would be like a happily giddy teenage girl. I would be giggling at the thought that I am going to fry some eggs and hotdogs and brew coffee for a very handsome and sexy man with charming eyes that causes my eyes to smile when he stares. I would often tell my husband he looks like Derek Ramsey but of course, he always thinks I’m pulling his leg.

I will hear the water splashes in the shower room and treat the sounds as accompaniment to my own culinary masterpiece. An orchestra bustles in low and high rhythms as the hot water for coffee boils and the sunny side up eggs crackle in the bed of canola oil they lay in. Then somewhere in the middle, outside our humble confines, I will hear the ensemble joined by a slowly rising crescendo of horn sounds “poot poot poot poot” accompanied by a deep baritone voice of a man singing “ PANDESAL”. I rush outside the door to greet the man with glee saying, “Manong, bente pesos po.” As I go back to my small kitchen to arrange the bread in a nice small bowl in the center of the table, the sound of electric whirring is heard from nearby as my husband toggles with his razor to help him keep off the black little hairs starting to grow over his bare skin head.

I would then rush to get the hotdogs off the frying pan and replace it with either chicken, pork , stir-fried vegetables or whatever I could find from our refrigerator that can serve as a decent lunch mate for my beloved. The rice cooker is a buzz with brown rice ready to be transferred to stackable airtight containers from LOCK and LOCK. And as my husband steps off his morning bath ritual, I will set the table for two making sure his bread knife and fork lies beside his favorite square plate and a little teaspoon can be found beside his cup of coffee for sugar to taste.

And as we settle to consume the blessing before us, I will find myself momentary still and staring at him as he gaily take a piece of bread and spread blueberry jam with dari crème inside it. This happy man is my husband and I will feel that certain pride inside that causes me to be aglow with silent joyous songs running in my head.

“ Basta’t tayo’y magkasama, laging meron umagang kay ganda. Pagsikat ng araw, may dalang liwanag sa atin at pag-asa…”

That song, however, comes not from my head but reverberates from the open LCD TV screen in our sala . It will be followed by voices of local reporters greeting us with news of recent yesterday and show us the latest way of spicing up our standard meals.

He gets up to leave but not before we say our morning prayer together.

“Oh my Lord! Make the eyes of my husband to see. Rejoice Thou his heart with the light of the knowledge of Thee, draw Thou his mind unto Thy luminous beauty, cheer Thou his spirit by revealing unto him Thy manifest splendors….”

My husband’s brief silence reveres His Divine presence and I bask beside said communion. He kisses me goodbye on the lips as I wrap my arms around his neck a bit hesitant to let go. I will peek from inside our window for the figure that walks away on the start of day until I could no longer see it.

I will clear the table and start washing the dishes, a sudden glum threatening to descend upon my being. I will walk to our bed after and turn the TV on to remove the feeling of suddenly being alone. As I do that, I will feel a strong kick from my tummy followed by several little bumps from the left side of my stomach. I will gently lie down in the mattress and converse with my unborn angel. Our angel will remind me that our little one also misses daddy. And my husband’s face all excited about the coming addition will cross my restless mind and create a smile where it is needed. And I remember how much I love him and how much I want this baby so I can always look forward to gazing at a proud father’s face for years to come.

It is imagining images of his smiling face and recalling his little thoughtful ways that sends me off sometimes to a much needed mid-day slumber. I remember one time when he came home and gave me GLEE cupcakes from Goldilocks knowing how much a fan I am. Every time he comes home with a bottle of Minute Maid from 7-11, I just could not express how I am delighted with such. The long distance travels to Manila that forces him to drive long hours while he lets me cuddle up beside him in the passenger seat in a vertical position ready to grab sleep if sleep so much as visit. I would remember fighting to get a glimpse of him from the view down where I lay combating sleep wishing I could soothe his tired neck and shoulder muscles myself but would be too tired myself.

After sometime, I will be bolted out of sleep and I will be checking the laundry box. And there I find his shirts, his pants, his socks mixed with a lot of dusters from my end. I slowly sort them into whites and darks beginning the cleaning process. I will make a mental note that we need to buy him new shirts because his shirts are starting to shrink and cling to his muscular chest. He is not fond of tight clothes. He wears though what is there much like me and I am kind of surprised I’ve found a person who can let me just be baggily comfortable with any clothing without a care in the world. And despite that, he will always look at me as if I’m at my most beautiful. And then I will silently laugh at the thought that because of me, my husband now knows who Bruno Mars and Taylor Swift is and even Katy Perry, names that used to be so alien to him but he will go on and listen gamely to me with interest as I recite to him their many merits. Amazing, I say to myself. To love someone who loves you back as much.

The day will start to slip by as I ration my time amongst house chores, STARWORLD TV shows, Baha’i books, writing and project management work interspersed by daily FACEBOOK checks.

And then its 4PM, a single thought erases everything else in my scattered mind. My husband will soon be home! What to cook? What to cook?

And most times, I will be injected with a familiar adrenaline that courses through my veins and I can’t keep still. Move …Move …move ….there is little time to create perfection. And yet sometimes, the heavy load I carry front slows me down. I will sit down for a while, close my eyes and I see my husband again, his tired face when he comes home with a silent hurried inkling to relax and be comforted with good food and a wife’s love. And I get up again and try to get everything perfect in time.

I hear the metal gate squeak and I knew he is home. I rush to open the door the same time he will. And with a beaming face, I hug him like he has been gone for such a long time. He will hug me back just as tight. A few minutes before that, I will be sure to have showered, change my duster into something clean and sprinkled just a bit of perfume or powder. I wanted to look pretty and nice and not sweaty or lazy like I normally feel when my Michael is out.

I would silently crave for comments on my cooking and he never fails to deliver. Not with words but with the hearty way he gobbles up whatever dish I lay before him. From a simple pumpkin soup to a complicated arroz ala cubana to just plain spaghetti from a can, he will always be appreciative and my heart just fills with more love for him.

We would watch TV briefly together as he readily switch the channel to AXN or any ballgame that’s on for viewing. But when I say I want to watch this show instead, he will with slight hesitance let me check that show momentarily. But of course, he knows it will be fleeting because I will be working in the other room soon.

It will be hard to tear myself away from him and concentrate on work. I will get back from work into our bed with him soundly asleep already. I will stare once more for a long time at this sleeping figure and I can’t help but kiss him on the cheek or head. I have two babies. He is my big baby and my little baby is on the way.

Each night I will find it hard to sleep immediately because of a lot of things in my mind that keeps it awake. But I will look at this wonderful person beside me and I will stretch my right arm to hug him on my side and that singular touch wherein he notices I’m in and squeezes my hand unconsciously that I knew there is nothing to worry. A silent prayer is uttered for the child that is in my womb. And I close my eyes to sleep, a woman in love, a fortunate maidservant blessed by our Lord of Great Favor.

And the next day when I wake up, I will fall in love with my husband all over again. And I pray it never ends.

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