Da’ Honey

It occurs to me that the more I age, the more I reflect.
I started a journey through my past a few years ago here
Childhood Revisited, I called them. Then later
The Straight Life series went unfinished just as
I reached the part of the story when I had just
come out to my kids. I stopped writing it.
I have been working on it, in my head, because it
has been left undone. Such things bother me, but
that is no news to you faithful readers.

When I write, or think of it, those snippets of the post
here yesterday come to me and later form what will be.
I am not yet ready but the ability to finish them is coming

I give you this in preparation for that.

I write often of my love for my spouse and occasionally
she will reply here when the spirit (or hecklers) warrant
her voice. But few know the real woman I call my beloved.

She is my George, My Fred, my pooh.
Those are the names I use for her in real life.
“Love you George”, I will say,
she replies, “I love you too Fred.”
The next time, I am George. I don’t know where or
why it started, but it has stayed. People at work
now call her Fred, because when I worked there I slipped
one day and called her Fred. Since there are three Jan’s
that work there, when they all work the same shift.
Jan is now Fred. They stole my name and it lost something
then. So to me now, she is George.

Her father used to call her Sally Ann
She hates that name and her given name of Janet Faye.
(I’m seriously dead now) When I met her she used
the email address sallyann (some number here) and I
thought she was lying to me about being single.

As a toddler Jan walked on her tip toes for years.
Her toes now look like those of bound Chinese women
from centuries ago. I have never seen such tiny toes.
Her ears as well are extremely small. Only a tiny earring
will fit her lobes.

Her family lived on a 19 acre lot with a huge fishing pond
that they had installed and stocked. Every day Jan
fished there in a large metal row boat. When we packed her
mothers home and sold it years ago, we brought that boat
to Georgia in a U-Haul.

On the day that we lesbians rented that required U-Haul,
I flew to North Carolina to meet her and help drive home.
Jan did not show up at the airport for an hour after my
flight arrived. I searched for her and had her paged numerous
times. Just as I was sure she had changed her mind and
left me stranded with a one way ticket far from my children,
I heard my name being called. She arrived with gifts and a
guilty face. I was angry until she stopped on the highway
and kissed me.

When she moved here, her things filled the basement.
There were at least, 400 t-shirts. She is a buy a t-shirt
souvenir kind of person, and had one from every place she
had ever been, or three of them. I have it whittled down
to about 50 now.

Jan can most often be found playing freecell on her computer.
She starts at the first game and plays each one in numerical
order. I am not even joking… although she does also remember
especially challenging numbers and re-plays them often.

Jan was a career Paramedic who has now been reduced
to lesser roles due in part to the move here, the choice
of not continuing in her field and concentrating instead on
Nursing. She is highly respected at the hospital here as
well. She has been honored numerous times for her compassion
and skill. She is an educator and a giving nurse.

Each new Nurse that arrives from the local college’s know
of her and seek her out as preceptor. I have never seen such
an accomplished medical professional as my spouse.
The fact that others honor her for that always fills me with
gratitude. My pride in her is enormous.

She is quiet and kind, the go to person in most situations.
Calm and collected to my frantic energy.
The one who waits in lines and makes calls that frighten
the child in me. She is patient and thoughtful.

When we argue, she walks away to think, I am much
more vocal. She begs for peace, I want to talk it through
or scream.

Under her clothes, she has the hour glass figure of a real
woman, yet hides that in loose mens clothes. She was
blessed with a waist and hips well defined. She has no clue
how sexy she is. She does not have to try. She just is.

She trusts my love and the vows we share completely.
I in turn would never risk losing her love.
When she could feel a pang of jealousy, she instead
chooses to be happy that I have found what I need,
knowing where I find my soft place. With her.

She is my balance, my scale, my tether to shore.
She is… Da’ Honey!

———————————–

Feel me in the night, without a touch at all.
Close your eyes and see me there, as I wish to be.
Hear my heart call to you, in the place where minds meet.
Know my soul without a word, as silently we speak.
Annie