the fifo wife

‘You can tell he loves you so much’ she said.

‘Yeah, I know’ I replied.

We were in my shed sorting stuff for a garage sale, and I’m not sure how the conversation started or where it was going because it came out if the blue over a bin of vintage cloth.

‘You only have to look at the way he looks at you’, she said.

‘I am lucky’ I said sorting further into the box of vintage table cloths. I ignored her because she wasn’t the only one to bring up ‘how much’ my husband loves me and my apparent ‘lacklustre return’ of it. I’m not a great displayer of affection I don’t think I have ever been one to be that way and I guess the longer my children crawl over me the less loving I seem in public. I am a hand holder though just not a snogger.

‘My mum always said she thought she loved my father more than he loved her’ she said stopping and staring dramatically into space.

I looked at her ‘well I’m sure that’s not the case perhaps he showed her differently.’

Saying I love you doesn’t come easy for some and some don’t see it as necessary for some. Actions speak louder than words and all that rubbish yet having said that it’s not all about flowers, diamonds or dinner dates although that doesn’t go astray especially when done both ways keeps the loving alive.

Perhaps it’s because I’m an only child where affection was slim and saying I love you was rare, but I knew my parents loved me. I knew, by the way; my father boasted to his mates about me. I knew, by the way; my mum worked so hard to send me to NZ every school holidays and buy me that strawberry shortcake umbrella despite the tantrum I threw. I just knew they loved me. Hearing it made it sweet but you know’ I stopped talking getting distracted by trying to decide do I keep the table cloth or does it go the tip. I held up the tablecloth and decided to toss it.

‘I know he knows how much I love him’ I said to her ‘because I overheard him tell a friend so. He said something along the lines of she loves me more than she loves herself and it’s true I love him so much it scares me but I don’t say that in fact I rarely say I love you.’

She looked at me puzzled like what I said was so absurd it was laughable.

I considered it for a minute before saying ‘I say I love you every time I ask how he slept, or when I say travel safely. I say I love you when I hunt stores high and low for the right gel deodorant or ask him ‘what you thinking can I help you’. I say I love you when I call him Bub instead of by his real name. I say I love him when I ask him did he have a good day. I say I love you every time he brings home more plastic containers and say okay does it go in the cupboard.’

‘I know he loves me by how hard he works, by the way, he makes my favourite dinners, buys my favourite chips and how he does anything he can to make my dreams a success.’

I finished with my justification of ‘I love him so much that I love you isn’t enough and other words along with actions are capable of saying I love you.’ But then I am very confident in myself and my relationship so perhaps thats the difference.

I turned and looked at her she was staring at me smiling like a Cheshire cat ‘I knew you loved him’ she said like she needed to prove a point.

‘I wouldn’t be married to a man I didn’t’ I said leaving the conversation there because there was nothing else to be said.

Are you a public displayer of affection?

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xx Deb

{image with thanks to here and content by Debbie Russo}