IDEAL or REAL

What we see on TV. What we’ve read on the news. What we’ve heard and seen the society is trying to impose affect how a thing is portrayed as IDEAL. That notion of what is ideal may have ruined most relationships. That, if we do not know the difference between “real” and “ideal”. The latter is superficial.

When you marry, you might have that ideal partner in mind. However, always barricade your heart with emotions that are real. Do not be overly fascinated with the sentiments of a fairy tale.

I, on the other hand, am blessed to have found a man I love and most of all, a man who loves me back. I couldn’t recall having to paint the IDEAL man in my head. I only see love stories in movies and they all seem surreal.

As a housewife, I’d say, I’m no good. See, I’m not an ideal wife myself. So, what right do I have to desperately crave for an ideal husband? I hate doing household chores. I don’t cook. I don’t do the dishes. I don’t clean the house. But I hate even a single stench of a foul smell.

As a mother, with confidence, I’d say, I’m a loving one as much as I’m a very loving and passionate wife. I may not be the type who runs around to play with my son, but I assure him I am there to appreciate him. I am there to understand and support him. It is really difficult for me to be around children. I just do not know how to linger in their horizon. Well, I couldn’t even recall being a child myself. I grew up worrying about a lot of things. I grew up scared of situations I am helpless with. I grew up crying, wondering, and confused what predicament the world put me in. This explains why I want my child to be carefree and not worry about problems only the adults should carry.

My husband, well what can I say, he’s not who I dreamed of (of course I do not know how to envision a boyfriend), but if there are blur images of the man, with overflowing pride, I’d say, he surpassed that man.

My son always tells me how boring our life is without his father. Oh yeah, I’m boring. I’m pretty serious, but I’m not uptight. There’s a difference folks. With my husband’s presence in our dear abode, squeals of laughter reverberate in the unpainted walls of our promising home. He fills what I lack.

He cooks our meals. He cleans the house so well. He runs around to play with our kid. He is a sight to behold. When he is away, he always has to ask of whether or not we have eaten. If we have not, he’d always say, “I could have cooked for you. Don’t worry, when I get home, you’ll never miss a delicious meal. You’ll need not to buy ready-cooked meal.”

When he’s home, he always checks our fingernails (mine and my son’s). He makes sure we go to school with our shoes clean and polished. He makes sure we come home to a clean and orderly house and a sumptuous meal on the table.

When he’s away, we thrive but it is a lot different, way too different when he’s home. He needs to be away, for us.

………….. happy father’s day my dear Marion