Is it really "A Weekend to Remember?"

It all started with a snow storm.

Hurray!  It finally snowed in NY...we thought perhaps God's forgot why we liked winters here.  Maybe he had dumped out a bit to much of the white stuff in places like Arizona, who had a strange bout with the cotton like flakes.   But alas, God managed to drop a good 8 inches on our land and in house after house, children screamed "NO SCHOOL tomorrow!"  And parents felt the rush of endorphines as they realized that there would indeed be a day of no running any where...just staying in, snug as a bug...happy as a clam.

That was Wednesday.

Friday came rapidly forward.  And we planned our escape to the state of Pennsylvania.  You see, my gorgeous husband, planned an all out fantasy of sorts for his very 9 month pregnant wife.  He actually signed us up for a Marriage Conference titled..."A weekend to Remember".   (Yes...yes, he sure did ladies!)  He even went one step further.  He reserved a posh room at a wonderful Bed & Breakfast that came complete with all romantic options, that being a jacuzzi tub and a fireplace...big bed and gourmet breakfasts daily.   All within 3 miles from the conference center, so his prego wife wouldn't have to travel too much.  Could it be any more romantic??   I think not.  My sister and brother in law even agreed to take not just our two boys but the dog!   

Happily, though admittedly a tad later than we'd planned, (my fault) we started our trip with the children and dog in tow.  We traveled for nearly a hour on the Jersey turnpike and started to make note of stalled traffic in the far lanes.   Soon we were among the stalled travelers...wishing desperately for movement.

Thinking oh so wisely, we called my sister who rapidly detoured us to interstate alternatives for getting away from the jammed turnpike and into Pennsylvania.   It was solid reasoning I think.  And as we progressed, our blood pressure went from smooth to rocky to all out road rage worthy!  You see, no matter what the route, everyone was stopped.  Stopped.  Stopped.  Stopped.

What was a quick 2 hour journey became a full blown 8 hour drive.   We took every conceivable detour available.   Tried to keep the kids sane.  Tried to keep ourselves from purposefully colliding with other more annoying drivers.   And ultimately just sat still on parked pavement...waiting for hours.

Finally, we were a mere 5 miles from our kid and dog drop off...thrilled that we would escape all the madness of life and join other happy couples on a weekend long conference that promised to enhance our marriage...building it up and hopefully catapult us into the land of great communication with each other.  And suddenly, without warning, a van exiting the freeway, began sending no less than 6 huge sheets of ice off of the top of the vehicle, spinning into the air around us!   We watched in horror as these sheets sped rapidly toward us and managed one by one to graze past us... missing  us, until one just didn't.   

SMACK!!

Dead center of our windshield.

And everything shattered.   The windshield looked as if it had been hit with morter.  Shattered into the tiny pieces....yet still ....unbelievably together.   Not even one piece of the thick glass pierced into the cab of our SUV.  Not even one.   My husband had managed, beyond our comprehension, to remain straight in our lane.  He didn't turn the wheel at all.  When I tell you that angels were literally there...I mean it.   How else can you explain it?   Not one piece of glass in the car.   And we were still moving at nearly 65 to 70 mph.   People, let me tell you that God exists!  If you think its a coincidence, the way things happen...think again.   

My dog was shaking uncontrollably on my lap.  My boys were staring at the broken windshield in stunned silence in the back seats.  My husband was still completely in control of the vehicle and I was beside him...starting to laugh.

Yes, I was laughing!  Laughing because already, we were beyond late to our conference.  Laughing because we were all fed up with this trip, the traffic, the scenerios that had led us to take every available detour.  I was laughing because only minutes away from destination number one...we were nearly killed by a sheer of ice that flung from the top of an old junked up van leaving the freeway.   Laughing because frankly, sitting still a moment longer would have made this girl burst into a million tears!   

So what did we do?   We kept driving.  Occassionally, Stephen would reach forward to graze his hands over the bits of glass, held together by some unseen force.  Could he feel a breeze?  Was this ok to drive while looking through a glass that resembled church stained glass windows? 

When we reached my sisters house, we climbed out  with a sigh of relief.   It was good to feel the ground under our feet.   It was good to feel the warmth of her house...to see our baby nephew Wesley,  who grinned and flirted with his Auntie like a genuine little man.   The boys instantly forgot the days trials and we began to work on our insurance situation.   With calls back and forth...notes scribbled on paper found at the bottom of my purse...numbers jotted left and right...we soon realized that we had no way of getting a rental car that evening and to further complicate the matter, it would be no earlier than Monday before a new windshield would be put into place for our drive home.

With genuine thoughtfulness, my brother in law offered his car.   And we took it with gratitude.  We were off again.   Ready for a weekend of romance...and relationship building.   Together.   If we could face this exhausting evening together, imagine how wonderful the conference would be for people like us!

Arriving at the B&B after midnight, we gazed happily at the beautiful well lit house with all its splendor.  It was wonderful!  A two story building painted a crisp white and decked out with green shutters.   The porch led half way around the front and boasted beautifully large rocking chairs for comfortable evenings in the summer.   Everything was cozy and warm on the inside.  The innkeepers had even left out delicious yummies for the evening.  Chocolate brownies, hot tea, coconut and toffee covered bars...loads of Hershey's sweet chocolate and Stephen even found a bottle of succulent wine and poured himself a glass.   The days problems were gone.  We were going to be perfectly ok in our "Weekend to Remember".

We cuddled under the thick covers and fell asleep with the fireplace still blazing before us.  And when the alarm went off at 6:00am, it didn't feel horrible to think about getting up.  I was so excited that even in my huge pregnant state, I jumped out of bed and into the shower.  When I came out, my husband handed me one of those luxury robes that they leave for you in the room.  And I sank beneath its warmth, feeling the ahhhhhh of the moment. 

But as I did this, I noticed Stephen's face.   At first I thought it was a "I haven't had my coffee yet" face...which is usually all scrunchy and sour.   But then, I looked again.  Was he green?   

"Honey?" I asked, "Are you ok?"

He stared at me for a moment and then said quietly, "I don't feel so good.  I feel nausiated."

Oh darlings, I don't mind telling you that my heart literally sank into my stomach at that moment.  And then I promptly went into deep denial instantly.  No no, he's ok.  I thought.   But sweethearts, the flu bug will not be contained and is a force to be recogned with indeed.   It only took a half hour before my poor husband was leaning over a porcelean toilet...or sitting on it, take your pick.   He asked me to go to breakfast as scheduled.  And reluctantly I did.  Only because being pregnant means I am hungry!  And to think of missing the breakfast would be thinking of missing a meal and well this girl isn't entirely crazy.   

As I walked into the breakfast area, I saw the table looking even more delicious in the daylight.  Festooned with candles and fancy china...fresh linen napkins and cups of hot coffee.  There were two couples already at the table, chatting on and on.  They took a break to say a quick hello to me.  And then the hostess popped into the room.   

"Well you must be Jennifer!" she said with a confident grin

"Yes...yes.  I am."

"Oh I hope you're doing good this morning, you had a long trip in last night." she said

And every part of my heart just began to tear up.  "I wish I could say Im doing great this morning but Im not...."  And it all spilled out.   The long traffic lanes...which we found out later were because of ice accidents and snow filed freeways that the Pennsylvania snowplows had not been able to get to in time before the ice came.   I told her about the ice shattering our windshield and how right now, my husband was sicker than a dog, in our room and that the conference...was off for us.

Know what I wanted her to do at that moment?  I wanted her to hug me like a mama hugs her baby.  Isn't that crazy?  I wanted a hug from an innkeeper I just met only a minute earlier.   And no she didn't hug me.   I didn't reach to hug her either.  But she did bring me coffee, she brought me fruit and yogurt in a cup and a baking pan full of sweet french toast.   I had fresh orange juice and I talked briefly with the other couples, who were..by the way, going to the lucscious marriage conference and who raved about the missed Friday evening sessions.   And I wanted to go with them, badly.   But not alone, with my husband...who I did not forget, had set it all up for us.   

As the two couples finshed their breakfast and left the room, I sat there working on my food, staring out the window at the snow covered property.  It was gorgeous.  God had covered everthing in white.  And I loved what I saw.  But Stephen's condition wouldn't leave my mind.  And as quick as I could, I left the table and returned to our room.   

I was actually hopeful.  One of the women at breakfast had given me something for upset stomachs to give to him.  Maybe he could chew on the tablet and away the nausia would go!  It was worth a try.   And try he did.  But the tablets had no affect on his condition.   He rushed into the bathroom every few minutes.  And I began the process of caring for a very sick man.   I made him baths in the oversized jacuzzi tub.  And washed his hair.  Brought him toothbrush and toothpaste to make the ichy taste go away.   I fluffed his pillows, brought him fresh clothing and cola to settle his stomach, and tucked him beneath the sheets.  And by this description you'd probably think, "Isn't she a great wife?!"

But I am not a good wife.   I was just as miserable as could be.  I held a pitty party for myself mid morning, crying in the lounge area where no one could be found.   And I called my friend Joelle and admitted that I needed a total attitude adjustment because at that moment I was feeling so mad at him for being sick!  I mean really!  I wanted to pounce on him because he had the gall to get the flu bug and barf through our special weekend.   I wanted to stomp my feet and protest this run of events.   And at some point, at the end of the day...as I lay still next to him on the bed, I realized that I was absolutely sick of the four walls I was in with him and that I thought I was in some kind of strange marriage hell.

But I didn't tell him.  Not yet.

It was sometime very early on Sunday morning when I woke up and stared impatiently at the clock.  How much more of this could I take?  I was stranded in a B&B, with a sick husband, no real lunch or dinner to speak of...I'd had more sleep than even hibernating bears could handle...and I wanted to be loved on by the cute husband next to me...and I knew perfectly well that would not be happening for days, due to this untimely illness.

Ever felt yourself build with anger?  Have you ever felt the pulse begin to race, your head turns warm, and even the mere idea of someone smiling at you, somehow makes you want to punch them, right then and there.

So I let it out!  I turned to Stephen, who was shifting lightly, eyes half opened and I said, way too loudly, "How much damn sleep can we handle here?!!"  Im sure he was more awake now.  But he, unlike me, was trying to keep his calm.   "What?"  he replied.   And it started.   I told him how angry I was and how frustrated I felt and how I wanted to pack up and go home.  I was miserable.   The weekend was a total bust for me.  And I was weeks away from having a baby with no last special trip to speak of with Stephen.   Blah blah blah....and more blah blah.

Darlings, I can be such a big baby.  He didn't just take it.  Eventually, he walked into the bathroom, shut the door and didn't come out for a while.   I stayed put feeling every bit the part of the bitter wife.  When he did come out, he apologized.   For the crappy weekend.  And I didn't want to hear it.  I know...I was feeling so sorry for myself.   It was pathetic.

We managed to eat breakfast together.  He still felt nausiated but managed to get some of the egg bake down and the fresh fruit.   The innkeepers talked our ears off...and Stephen seemed to enjoy it. I imagine that the retired school teacher/innkeeper, was feeling uncharacteristically interesting at the moment, because Stephen appeared to take in every single word the man said to us.  No small thing I can assure you.  But I knew he was trying hard to distract his thoughts from his disgruntled wife, could I blame him?  

When we returned to our room, we discussed everything.  All the sadness we both felt.  The frustrations.  The blame game I'd been playing with him.  His flu.  My dispair.  It all was there.   I'd love to say we came to some major conclusion...like a big lightbulb moment or a clap of thunder.   But we didn't.   We discovered only this.   We were still so much in love. 

Yeah, crazy right?

But we were and we are!   I adore him.  He adores me.   And the thing is, even with this hellish weekend, I'd still rather be with him, then anywhere else.  We love greatly.   We still believe in the other.  And in the hell, hey....he is still with me and I am still with him.   We are in it together, as the vows said...in good times and in bad.

This blog isn't about the pretty things in life.  Its about reality.   Its about how we manage.  Babycakes, it was the worst weekend of our marriage.   It all out stunk.  And yet, we are counting blessings.  The ice didn't injure us.   The illness didn't do any perminent damage.   The strain didn't force us to opposite sides of the room.  I still wanted to hug him.   He still wanted to make me laugh.   I was rude...he was gentle.   He was sick...I was a caretaker.   Its reality.   Its life.   It happens.

The kids were happy to see us on Sunday.  We celebrated my sisters birthday that evening. And the windshield didn't get fixed until Tuesday.  We still don't have a clue how a weekend could go so horrible in a matter of days.   We've asked God no less than a half a dozen times.   Maybe we won't have answers ever.   But if you can last with your partner through major disappointments like this...there's gotta be a blessing in it for you both.  Perhaps for us its about learning how tough we really will be as this new baby enters our lives.  Maybe God's working on our teamsmanship.   Who knows.   But I love this life, even with its ick.  And for all that I have I am grateful.

To that end....here's to better weekends, with more hope, happiness and a wealth of joy!  Oh and PEOPLE, please clean off the top of your vehicles after the snowstorm.  You could save a life!