Wednesday while commuting on the ferry, we had a one hour wait. I decided to pass the time by playing music. Rummaging in the van’s collection, I found an old tape that surprised me, so old I’d forgotten which songs I’d recorded on it.
Two of the songs came from an album I heard for the first time when I started dating Ted. In his CD collection he had a band that seemed loud for my taste at eighteen. They sang about Babylon – screamed about Babylon – and I began to have doubts about this boy I thought I liked. It seemed he’d give me both headache and heartache.
Then Ted showed me two softer songs on the album. Quiet ballads where the singer wondered how and why he could be loved by God and described what it felt like to let this enormous love wash over him. These songs quickly became favorites of mine too. Instead of dividing us, the band’s music became something we shared, and something that let me see inside Ted.
Wednesday afternoon as we drove onto the boat at last, I was listening to the lyrics and letting the long-lost songs speak to me again, reminding me of Ted, of our love and marriage, of the wide-eyed faith and passion I once had as a younger woman. Instead of jumping out of my seat after I parked, I sat for a little while longer, listening, savoring the song. When I explained to the girls why I had lingered in the van, I told them that this was music their Daddy liked.
Abigail asked me “Where did you find Daddy?”
Where did I find Ted?
Good question, I replied, unbuckling the kids from their car seats, mumbling in the commotion.
A funny question. As if I had been looking for him. Or looking for a husband at all. As if I could name the time and place where I did find him. I don’t even remember the first time we met.
A grown-up question. It was kind of question women ask each other over coveted possessions tell me, where did you find that?!. Sure…I found him in the intimate apparel department at Nordstrom’s downtown. I found him on sale at Target one summer. I found him on the lighting fixtures aisle in Home Depot between boxes of chandeliers. As if he were a possession for purchase. As if I could say I had found him. When I believe Someone found him for me.
Where I found Ted, I’m not sure I can say. But I can say that I love him. That I’ve found life with him. And I don’t want to lose him.
1 response so far ↓
1 MD // Jul 12, 2004 at 3:34 pm
Honestly Julie, yours is one of few blogs that can make me tear up a bit…