Marriage Moats-I Win

Published: Fri, 04/01/11

Marriage Moats

Caring for Marriage

I win.

I am more excited about having my credit card in my pocket than you are about having yours.

This is because two hours ago when I fished in my bag for it to hand to the expectant receptionist at the ear doctor, it was not there. A surge of embarrassment spread over my face, as I glanced at the raised eyebrows of other patients in the waiting room who were quietly snuffing, "I know where my credit cards are. Irresponsible people..."

The receptionist graciously agreed to bill me, and I resisted the urge to call John. I always call John in emergencies, even if he is fifty miles away with no car. When the kids were small they called with me, and I am not talking about using a phone.

I was anxious. The doctor was preparing to stab a pointy object through my eardrum to relieve the pressure, some unscrupulous stranger was probably charging all manner of new furniture and cruises on my credit card, and I could barely hear.

As I sat in the I-am-vulnerable-and-you-can-do-anything-you-want-to-me chair, formulating a plan of action, my phone rang. I know there are signs posted on every empty space saying that my cell phone should be off, or people will be forced to glare at me. But it wasn't and I answered it. My daughter Chara said she was confused. She had gotten a call from a random stranger at the Abington Medical Center saying that they had found a credit card for a Loren Odhner, and did she know me?

I praised the day I took my husband's obscure name and cried "Yes!!! I just lost it!"

Astonishingly, the woman who found it had called Bryn Athyn College to see if there was a Loren Odhner there. The secretary looked through the faculty listing and saw a Lori Odhner, but no Loren. I cannot fault her for not knowing Loren and Lori are the same person. The only people who address me as Loren are total strangers who want money. Then the secretary thought to ask Chara Odhner, whose desk was down the hall. Why the woman at Abington tried the college is a mystery I can only fabricate explanations for, but it does raise my adoration for the human race a notch. I even collected three other people's grocery carts while returning mine when I stopped for bread on the way home.

Losing things is handy for increasing joy. The other day I was swapping lost child stories. One young man told me he had a penchant for snuggling into the mound of unfinished laundry when he was little, and one time he fell asleep there. His parents called the police, and all the neighbors while he slept soundly. He did not expound on the celebration when he was found, but I can imagine there were hugs and laughter.

I know years ago when my own little girl heard that daddy was going somewhere interesting she climbed in the back of the van, unbeknownst to him, and ended up at the dentist. I was frantically looking for her all over the house, and called the dentist to see if John had arrived yet. He had not, but he called when he did and assured me that he had not brought any kids with him. More hysterical searching. A few minutes later he decided to check the car, just in case, and found her smiling in her car seat. I was exponentially happier to learn where she was than I had been hours before when she was playing in the back yard.

If you are ever having a bad day, find the You Tube of deployed servicemen who surprise their children by showing up at school. I do not even know their names, but it makes me cry just to see the abundant bliss of holding someone who has been lost to you for a long time.

Sometimes people get lost in their own marriages. They forget how to come out of hiding, or they disremember the sound of their own voice.

But sometimes, even after hope has disappeared, we find ourselves, our voices and each other.

When it happens, the clap of joy is thunderous.

Photo by Rachel Gardam