So, I’m currently stuck here in Tucson for another week or so, and, for better or worse, I’m often left with the challenge of not going too far into my own head. Its all downtown traffic and seagull squaks in there a lot of the time……especially when Karen isn’t around. Anyway, I was laying there last night unable to sleep, twisting my head hairs, and thinking about one of the most awkward things that has ever been done to me.
It was in the second (highly tumultuous) year of Karen and my marriage. We were coming home from an amazing, unforgettable, and (possibly) marriage saving trip from Prescott, AZ. The car was ripe with the smell of Cracker Jacks and Diet Dr. Pepper, and out of nowhere Karen held my hand and started singing along to The Indigo girls song “Power of Two”. Not just singing to the windshield……singing to me…….fully singing to me. She stared right into my brown eyes and wouldn’t look away. Verse 1, Chorus, Verse 2. I thought I was going to explode with my own discomfort…….but not her. She was fearless for a few minutes. Her voice and those words were like feathers dismantling a million pounds of steel and rivets, and I was left completely naked and terrified. By the time the bridge of the song hummed through the air of our little Toyota, the rules we had set up for each other were obsolete; at least for a while.
This wasn’t a one time thing. She seems to have a knack for catching me off guard and rebreaking all of our rules again. And as I was laying there last night in the dry and dusty Tucson air, I found myself wishing she was there to sing to me. Wishing for the chance to try and not drop my eyes, to not squirm in my own skin, to maybe even sing back to her. In moments like these, she’s much braver than me, and I want a chance to fire back my own feathers and see where they land. Its so awkward when you sing to me. Please don’t ever stop.
Steven this is so beautiful.
I had the honor of sitting on the floor and watching Karen as she read this for the first time today. I had no idea what you had written, but I could see from her face that they were holy words.
Karen and I had worked out and eaten lunch together, and we both had to take showers before continuing into our crazy, separate days. I might be wrong, but during her shower I could have sworn I heard her singing.
I love watching you two love each other.
Our family is brimming with good writers! Well done, Steven! I love that you have started a *real* blog – not that fake myspace crap thing that you had going on. And I can’t wait to read more.
xoxo
These are some of the sweetest words you’ve ever given me. I cried when I read them. And then I did sing in the shower. I love you
xoxo
Shields up, respond with humor:
I hope that moment was not as meaningful as when I sang you “Hot for Teacher.”
Shields down, respond with honesty:
To quote a movie that I can’t quite remember, “you guys are totally retarded for each other”. And that is a rare and wonderful thing.
Shields back up, respond with humor:
Steven likes a girl, ewwww!
i loved this steven; I could feel what it felt like to be mute with awkwardness and gratitude while Karen was loving you. I hope I can allow myself to stay naked and terrified in those moments a little longer each time. I normally resist. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow!
“You’re being rather smoochy!” This is an expression that Nathan and I use when out of nowhere we can’t resit being totally gushy and utterly in love with on another. There’s always a state of love in the relationship but there are these random and great moments where it spills out in an expression of true teenage-like, heart pounding, psycho, “I love you more than I can stand” fazes. I live for smoochy moments and it makes me smile to hear of my good friends delighting in them as well. It keeps a marriage fresh and brings you back to the honeymoon period where everything seems possible and nothing can destroy you.
However I have to agree -in a totally childish manner- with Nathan: “Steven likes a girl, ewwww!”
You know, your writing this seems like a way of loosing those feathers for a little bit, even if you couldn’t look Karen in the eyes when you did so. A long-delayed reciprocation.
Thank you for loving my sister the way you do.