We Make it Work

Sometimes when I am not feeling well and I have had a rough day or couple of days (or week), it's tough to focus my efforts on writing about love and keeping things positive. I've been going through some personal stuff over the past few days, and I guess the way to focus on the positive- the love in my life, is to be thankful of the caring and understanding husband I have. He always supports me by allowing me to feel what I feel. He doesn't try to fix things (usually) or appease me by telling me everything will be okay. He acknowledges how I feel and offers advice or feedback if he thinks he has something constrictive to say. Sometimes, he has a zinger. One that really allows me to send an FU to the world. Tonight, in this micro memoir, I recall a very intimate and special moment from about ten years ago.We went on an extended weekend getaway to Flagler Beach over spring break, in celebration of our 10th anniversary. The entire trip was unforgettable, but mostly because of this...

It was breezier than we expected for late spring, bordering on blustery. Our bed and breakfast was only a couple of blocks from the restaurant, so we enjoyed the walk along the beach. We held hands and walked closely, a sight for a romantic beachside photographer. It was a seaside building, likely a converted home, with a wraparound porch. The hostess escorted us through a dimly lit room with creaky wood floors, and out to the porch where our table had been reserved. There were drop vinyl panels with clear windows so diners could enjoy the view and the outside, with protection from the gradually cooling temperatures. It was quiet and intimate but not overly romantic. I don't remember at all what I ate that night, though I know it was delicious. My memory is more of the conversation than the food. We had experienced a healing day at the spa, where we released all of our tension, and it seemed all of our emotional junk. I was talking about how unhappy I was at work at the time. It had nothing to do with the kids or the faculty, but with bureaucracy and some others in the company. Matter-of-fact, with not a single reservation in his face or his tone, my husband said, ""Quit. If you are that unhappy, quit." I was shocked. I responded with all of the "buts" that come out after a statement like that. His reaction was, "No salary or job is worth you feeling like this. We'll make it work."  The following Monday I gave three months notice. I had no idea where I would land next. It was the only time in my life I ever quit a job without knowing exactly where I would go to next. It was scary and exhilarating all at once. But you know what? We made it work.