Opposite feathers flock together?

Written by Sass

Opposites attract. That’s what they say, anyway. I suppose it could be true.

But at the same time, birds of a feather flock together. I suppose that could be true as well.

I believe my husband and I are opposites. No wait…maybe we’re birds of a feather. No…opposites. Who knows. I’ll let you decide.

Hubs and I met in college. We were both a little wild and neither of us felt like we had a lot of direction. The big difference was that, while he had no direction, he at least was able to do the things he needed to do to get stuff done. He could party all night and make it to his 8:00 classes without any problem. Me, on the other hand…not so much.

We were studying at the library one night, and I asked him what his dad did for a living. He told me that his dad worked for a large power company in the area. I was instantly amazed, as my father worked for the same company. A year or two prior to me going to college, the union workers at my dad’s company were locked out of work. So we spent a summer with my telemarketing check being basically our only income. Dad did go dig ditches and work on his sister’s tree farm, so honestly…ends were met. It was hard, and gave me a great appreciation for my dad, for how hard it is to provide for a family, and for the importance of hard work.

After hubs told me where his dad worked, I gasped and said, “No way! My dad does too!!!” After a second of thought, we both looked at each other and said, “is he union?” We both honestly believed it could have been the deal breaker. Luckily they were both union, and the birds of a feather could continue to grow together.

When it comes to money, hubs is much more cautious and methodical than I am. He panics about things 3 months in advance, whereas I wait until after the money’s been spent, and then I panic.

When it comes to food, we’re exactly alike. Neither of us are very picky eaters, and both of us think that a good dinner makes for a great date. We used to be so different when it came to drinks…he has always been a beer guy. I always went with the fruity, girly, umbrella drinks. I’d daresay I was a little high maintenance in that regard. Then came the summer of acid reflux, and a beer girl I did become. Opposites became birds of a feather, due to necessity.

In matters of the…physical nature…we’re probably a lot alike, enough said.

But then, there’s the big one. Our goals for the future. Hubs wants to be a millionaire, retire, and just live life. He sees what he’s doing now as the means to the end. I, on the other hand, want to just be happy. I want to write my blog posts, maybe write something more, and if I make a couple hundred dollars off it, even better. He sees this as a lack of drive. I see it as being realistic, understanding that I have to be “in the moment,” for something to come out right, and wanting to take my dream and live it for as long as possible.

He doesn’t understand how my mind works. He doesn’t understand that a person who wants to write, and tell stories, sees everything as an opportunity for a tale. The lady on the corner with mismatched shoes makes a great story, in my mind. In his mind, she was careless and probably feels like an idiot. The kids’ jokes and things they say make me sit down and compose a conversation to make others laugh. He sees it as funny stuff that he may or may not remember 5 years from now. He’s never been a writer, and probably never will be.

Or so I thought.

Recently, he handed me a frame, with some words in it. He wrote it because he felt like, as he put it, he was lucky to have me, and he could see the jealousy in other men’s eyes. It was beautiful, and I instantly cried. I realized…”He wrote this for me. He sat down at the computer, thought about us, and he became a writer.” 

I’ll finish this (excessively long) post with what he wrote. Maybe you can decide…birds of a feather? Or opposites attracting? Or maybe…just maybe…a little bit of both.


Why Didn’t She Pick Me ~ By Sass’s husband

Maybe she would’ve,

If you were the one riding that bike in the hallway, smiling ear to ear.

Or if you were there with her on that first trip to the place that would be visited over and over, just taking it all in, walking, talking, laughing, dining.

Or if you would’ve taken her on a drive in that direction just to stop, walk, and get a cup of coffee. Then to stop at the hotel and propose with a key chain, knowing that whatever lie ahead the two of you could figure out together.

Or maybe you should’ve taken her to that special place, that she can now go anytime she wants to, just to “get away.” The one that helped her get through three births.

Or if you were there to pass the babies off to because they were crying and wouldn’t sleep.

Or if you were there with her through those troubled times worrying about what the doctor can do to fix it.

Or if you were there on that unforgettable morning to hear the words, “J…I’m losing ya!”

Or if you were with her laying in the sun, with water all around, not worrying about anything and just enjoying the moment.

Or…wait a minute. It can never be YOU, because it was me. I was with her through it all, and I always will be.

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