Father's Day

Even though this weekend is dedicated to the fathers, Bruno has been treating me like a queen all weekend, and right now I'm looking at the enormous, peach colored gladiolas Bruno bought yesterday at the Farmer's Market and perched on top of the entertainment center. When we were in the hospital in Oregon, a dear friend of Bruno's, a gentle giant named Nenad came to visit, and brought me an armload of gladiolas, and a Nenad armload is really saying something: he is 6'7". We kept them spread out in several vases, blooming in the window sills for a week, and they gave me so much comfort that, each week we were there, Bruno would go get more, and I would direct him in flower arranging. It is interesting to me that he chose those yesterday. I didn't say anything at first: I didn't know if he remembered. I just remarked on how lovely they were, and he brought it up that they were the ones we'd had at the hospital. We didn't say any more about it, but I somehow feel it is a form of progress: that we can integrate things from that time and allow them to spark memories, but not too much sadness.

On the other hand, recently when we needed to drive down to San Jose to pick up a roof rack for Bruno's car, my sweet, rational-to-a-fault husband took a dive so deep into magical thinking that I didn't know if I'd be able to pull him back to the surface. It is no secret that we are "trying" again, and so each month we pass through periods where "I might be pregnant". This was during one of those times. We were winding our way back from Half Moon Bay (where we'd been reading on the beach), when Bruno suddenly looked panic stricken and said,

"I should take you home. You shouldn't be in the car this long".

I tell him I'm fine, if I weren't sitting in the car, I'd just be puttering around at home.

"But maybe the vibrations of the car or the bumps in the road will dislodge something".

I remind him that the Dr. told me I should abstain from high impact activities, like full contact football or bungy jumping, not to tie myself to the bed for half the month.

"But we are going to the Subaru dealership, and you were pregnant with the boys when we went to the Subaru dealership in NYC, and then we lost them, and you were pregnant in November when we went to this dealership in San Jose and we miscarried that pregnancy, and....I shouldn't be taking you to the Subaru dealership. I'm turning around"

I tell him that there aren't many things I'm sure of anymore, but I am absolutely positive that Subaru dealerships have nothing to do with our losses.

"Maybe I should park on the street outside the dealership, and I'll just go in. That way you won't technically be in the dealership"

Oh my G-d.

It took another 10 minutes or so before I finally got him calmed down. When we got to the dealership, he did park in the parking lot, but insisted I stay in the car while he went in and got the part. Poor sweet man. Whenever we are lucky enough to get and stay pregnant, it is going to be one heck of a ride.

Wish me luck helping Bruno navigate Father's Day today. And Happy Father's Day to all you Dads out there, including mine.