Saturday, July 25, 2009

Open mouth, insert feet...

I don't know how to shake this overwhelming feeling of yuckiness. I'm not even sure what the source is. Is it just the fact that I don't feel very well and therefore everything else seems to be yucky as well? Not sure.

The weekend started out well enough. We got the trailer packed up, loaded up the horses (after a minor detour on Farmer's part to fix a pivot that had gone awry) and were headed up to the mountains to help out friends with cattle again. The trip up was very pleasant... good conversation was going until I opened up my big mouth and asked a controversial question I really shouldn't have. If I could have, I would have kicked my own ass. From that point forward, everything seemed to go downhill in a rapid decline. Farmer got quiet... I got upset at myself. We talked it out a bit and were in the process of saddling up when he got a phone call that his pivot had shut back down. We unsaddled, kicked the horses into a pen, dropped the trailer and hauled ass down the mountain to find out what was going on.

It was a quiet trip down the hill. Farmer was preoccupied with what was happening with the pivot... and I wasn't sure what to do but sit there and try not to be a bother. And so we come to the crux of the problem.

I'm not exactly sure what to do when he is in this frame of mind. I understand being like an arrow drawn and aimed at a target. That singular desire to find the problem and fix it. And I was OK with him not really saying anything to me about it. What I was struggling with is how to be supportive without being a pest. I wanted to help... but couldn't. I wanted to be able to offer some sort of support, but didn't know how.

Sometimes I'm just not sure how to be. Do I just shut up and not say anything? When I asked him about it later he said that at this point he really didn't have a preference one way or the other. Not exactly what I was hoping to hear. You don't want to feel like you and what you're trying to offer doesn't mean anything. He chalks this up to just not being used to having any type of support around. He's so damn used to dealing with things alone.

My hope is that this will eventually not be the case. I want to be able to make a small difference in those instances... not just be another thing that can be taken or left behind. Perhaps I'm making this about me too much? I know when I'm stressed out and just having a frustrating day I'm glad that he's around. I'd like to be able to offer the same in return.

Perhaps I have a way too romantic view of things. I am the type of person that is OK with being in love. Others don't see it the way I do, I suppose. Love is messy, inconvenient (at times) and is the most wonderful feeling in the world. True love, in my opinion, builds and feeds off of itself. As you develop more feelings for someone the love grows that much deeper. And I'm not talking a fast, hot burning type of love (although that will show up now and again)... I'm talking the slow-burn that lasts a lifetime. You know... the type of love that you see in the movies.

Laugh if you want. I've seen it in real life. I know it can happen... I think the big trick for me will be getting out of my own way and just letting things develop as they will. Not pushing for this thing or that, like I'm trying to do now.

Sometimes easier said than done, though...


  1. Hubby's an independant too. After over a decade together I've learned not to encroach too much when he's in that mind on task at hand mode. In your situation I would probably have slipped a hand in his or on his thigh and just waited it out until we got there. There's not much you can really do and these guys are tumbling over scenarios in their heads. Talking to us interrupts their thought process. It's weird. I'm more like you; I want to talk it out.

  2. That's a hard instinct to overcome... I just want to run up and hug him and comfort him and... well you get the picture.

    Meanwhile he's looking at me like I've sprouted another head :) It's a work in progress