Earlier last week Susan, her two kids, little sister & brother in law attended a memorial put together by the hospice located on the grounds of The Little Caring Hospital for all of the families whose loved ones had passed through that way.

Wow, that was a long sentence.

Anyway, Susan regularly receives their invitations to bereavement support services and events but this is the first time she has taken them up on anything. The memorial was to be held in the hospital's chapel and she was particularly attracted to the option of being able to share 'memories, a poem or a prayer' meaning she would have a captive audience and a microphone.

Susan thought she might like to read the poem her pal Mikel had sent her, one which helped in the early days, and something she still re-reads. There were one or two points within the poem that she didn't specifically agree with, like 'loving being a matter of eternity more than of time', but the rest of it was pretty on target. Susan's big with sharing things that help her ease the burdens of life, whether inspiring others to see the up-side of grief or to wage a deadly battle against ants in the kitchen with a DIY killer (Borax + honey).

The more she thought about it the more Susan realized that she preferred to use the opportunity to tell people about the husband. This was not going to be an improv situation, she would write everything down. She searched her little toy brain for a good story but came up empty. Her brain has not been particularly strong this last year, which she worries may be the coincidentally timed emergence of dementia, but she set aside that possibility and consulted her alter-memory, the archives of Twisted Susan. Very quickly she found this post then adapted it to her current need.

On the way there Susan was looking forward to being back where the husband was so well cared for, but the daughter was not happy as they walked past the hospice where her father died. She removed her mother's arm from around her shoulder and growled like a little broken hearted cub. Once inside she perked up when she saw her aunt & uncle.

Mercifully it was an Inter-Denominational Celebration of Life and not a Catholic service. The program began with a welcoming blessing & candle lighting then a musical interlude by the most adorable acapella chorus of white haired men ever to belt out a churchy song. After this was the celebration of life part where each person who requested to speak was called up to the altar.
The participants were all sad, a few cried, some went against Susan's personal code by winging it, best was the young girl who read a poem about her grandmother. After taking a long walk up the center aisle with all eyes upon her, she stared straight ahead and very clearly read her poem in front of what were probably 200 people, then took that same brave walk all the way back to her seat. She did a nice job.

Shortly thereafter Susan's name was called.

Sidebar: Susan's son, who was arriving separately, was still not there. (Insert angry mommy Grrrr sound). There will undoubtedly be a meeting with him on this topic later.

Susan and her prepared statement took their place at the front of the room. She looked briefly at the group, announced that she was nervous then in a slightly breaking voice said she's been without her husband for 323 days, that's 44 weeks, and would like to read them a list of things that she liked about him:

• He was impressive with a yo-yo
• Describing the birth of his son he said 'I never knew how exhausting it was to yell at someone for four hours'
• He sang, poorly
• He was very adept at winning arguments, but took it easy on Susan
• He ran around in the yard with the kids and the dog
• He could always be counted on to complete any disagreeable task
• He told funny stories from his youth about drunkenness & neighborhood brawling
• He apologized by saying 'I've decided to forgive you'
• He didn't build himself up by making others feel small
• If he didn't know something, he knew a guy who knew 
• He said that being mad at Susan was like being mad at a puppy (got a big Awwww from the crowd)
• He didn't worry about things he couldn't control
• He did the Lindy at weddings & grabbed anyone in his path
• Before he was married to Susan he raised two smart, independent, caring & wonderful girls that have always been terrific big sisters to their two kids
• He would say 'It's better to seek forgiveness than permission'
• 'Thanksgiving is not a low-fat holiday'
• When arguing he'd say 'Don't cloud the issue with facts'
• About making decisions; 'The situation is the boss'
• Upon doing something for him he'd say 'Who's better than you?'
• About money he said a few things; 'I can owe it to you or you can forget about it'                        Expenses related to mistakes were called the 'stupidity tax' and 'All financial crises only last for 48 hours'
• 'Success is 90% showing up, 9% listening & 1% dumb luck'
• 'Tough times don't last, tough people do'
• Lastly, his favorite was always; 'Analyze, Adapt, Overcome'

The crowd had been chuckling all along but Susan was surprised as hell when everyone applauded, little sister said it wasn't even she who started it. 

The husband could still make people laugh.

Susan's son showed up during the Reading of Names; each loved one's name was read as their family members walked up front to hang a sparkly cardboard dove on a tree. Some folks had two entire rows of people in attendance, others only one or two or three. This is where Susan got a good look at how bereaved people were. Many were grim faced. She felt particularly sad for the older folks, grief had really roughed them up. 

Let's fast forward to the balance of the night highlights:

Susan's daughter hung their sparkly dove on the highest branch, the old man acapella chorus came back to cheer everyone up, Susan & her family went out for BLTs and milk shakes.

A year ago Susan would find the Sunday papers waiting for her on the dining room table, maybe with a bag of bagels sitting on top of them. The husband was always up & out early then come home with the papers; the highbrow NY Times & lowbrow Post. It was a simple detail of her life that made her happy.

She could never get far before the husband interrupted her with conversation. She'd put her finger on the last word she read, stare at him until he stopped talking, then go back to reading. Every Sunday for 20 years.

Susan's 21st anniversary is this week.

The husband's giant cutting board sits on a shelf in the kitchen. It got used every night. He'd grill a steak or pork chops or chicken, then slice and serve it from the cutting board. Every night.

What does she do without all the little things that used to be her life? Some get filled with other stuff but mostly an absence exists.  Thinking about it makes her cry, which uses up some time. She never stops her tears except for necessity or if it's like enough already.

The other day she found a collection of things she wrote to the husband long ago; poems, little notes, pictures she drew. She started reading but it was too much. She kept two and threw the rest out. They weren't for anyone else to see, just him.

Susan writes Twisted Susan for herself but invites all her bloggy pals to read along, she invites you all into her brain. That's a pretty intimate invitation.
100% guaranteed no bullsh*t.

If Susan was a downer today, too bad.

Susan couldn't let twenty years go by without some sort of a celebratory observance so she whipped herself up a party with a minimal amount of planning.

There were LOBSTERS

And SISTERS

And DAUGHTERS

And FIRE!

And COUSINS

All for THESE TWO

The party got a little white trash when there wasn't enough room for all the guests, beverages & food, and Susan left out a few details like appetizers, forks & cream for the coffee. But, the bathrooms were clean, the ice bucket was filled, Cousin Melissa constructed a fantastic goat cheese and fig appetizer onsite and everyone appeared to muddle through. There was even a little theatrical presentation when Susan challenged the husband with 'You wanna fight? I'll fight you in front of everybody!'
Ultimately there was no fight, instead there was flourless chocolate cake with raspberry whipped cream, blueberry cheesecake and goodie bags.

Susan and the husband have been manacled together in wedded harmony for twenty years.

Weren't they the sh*t back in 1994?

To commemorate this jubilee Susan attempted to dig out their wedding album, which she has come across within the last year or so, but not on this day. She did find her collection of RSVP cards on which her guests wrote little personal notes or doodles along with their will attends.

The old married couple spent the day in Sag Harbor enjoying dockside cocktails and lobster rolls, American flags, old architecture, hydrangeas, dogs, cemeteries, churches and a Drive Slowly Duck Crossing sign on the way out of town.

  

Susan and the husband spent a pretty nice day together punctuated by a wee skirmish or two, if asked she'd rate it a 7 out of 10.

The husband informed Susan that she left the stove on.
'I forget which way to turn the knob' she told him.
He assured her the stove wasn't on for long then added, 'That's what landed my mother in the nursing home, you know.'

Susan HATES

Susan hates when she is sitting at a table in traffic court conferring with the town prosecutor about the questionable validity of her parking ticket and the husband interjects.

She watches the town prosecutor's face start to twist, which it wasn't doing while Susan was speaking, and admonishes the husband in front of everyone to 'Stop talking!' A few moments later she is forced to offer a follow-up reminder in the form of, 'OMG, I told you to stop talking!'

Sidebar: Susan's fine was reduced from $100 to $15.

Susan yelled at the husband tonight.

She yelled and yelled and yelled, she yelled so much she foamed at the mouth a bit then she yelled some more. She threw silverware and said f*ck a bunch of times all followed by YOU!

Did everyone enjoy the first day of Spring too?

Susan and the husband went at it on Saturday. She was so sick of the sound of his voice talkingtalkingtalking and offering opinions she didn't ask for. Even when she said OMG, will you shut up! he wouldn't.

It all came to a head when the husband called Susan's son back into the room to tell him the same thing that Susan had just told him two seconds earlier.

After a brief discussion concerning the superfluousness of his added commentary the husband became disgusted with Susan and left the room, saying something under his breath as he went.

She threw the TV remote at him which was stupid because if she broke it she'd be back in 1979 unable to change a channel without getting up off the couch. The husband responded by throwing a chunky candle which put a dent in the wall & sent Susan shrieking.
Susan can shriek.

Anyway, by bedtime it had all blown over because Susan & the husband are soulmates and never go to bed angry.

Susan thinks her husband resents her being on the computer all the time.
Well, f*ck him!

Susan's husband got mad at her last night, he accused her of being rude and left the room. She was thankful for the break because she was trying to construct her mandatory BLAHg post and he kept talking.
She listened while he had something to say but abandoned him with extreme prejudice as soon as he didn't.
She doesn't like it when he's mad at her because he's usually right about whatever it is and then she's got to apologize.
She doesn't mind apologizing, it's part of being in a mature, functioning relationship, but sometimes the territory is murky. Was she really rude? Wasn't he hyper sensitive?
The next morning she gave the only apology she could honestly support;
I'm sorry that I upset you.
The husband understood that it was watered down. Susan shrugged, It's all I got.

Susan wakes up each morning a full on TWISTED b*tch. She puts on her TWISTED b*tch face and stomps around the house making her TWISTED b*tch comments about everything in her line of vision.
Was that light on all night?
Nobody fed the dog again?
How long is that pile of sh*t going to sit on the table?
Is that a wet towel on the floor?

It's the husband's function as her life partner to receive the full force of her anger. Well, not the full force, but certainly a large portion of it. Disclosing every last thought in her head would likely be de-motivational for the relationship. In the same way, she doesn't want to know every opinion the husband holds about her. It's enough that she's got to be in the same room with him during the periods that she can't stand him. Like now.
She particularly can't stand the sound of his voice.

She would love to make a list for her modest fan base of all the things she can't stand about the husband.
OMG, she'd love to! But she won't because everyone in a committed relationship knows what she's up against.
On Wednesday we're plodding along being a supportive spouse and by Thursday morning we've reached our saturation point. Critical mass.
Even someone as special and giving and wonderful as Susan is given to fits of miserable TWISTED spousal hatred.
However, we all know that hatred signifies one still cares.

The husband makes a pot of meatballs & sauce every other week. While they're still hot he runs half over to the neighbor's and comes back home to feed the other half to a table full of people. Leftovers are turned into lasagne.

The husband made Susan fall in love with his meatballs years ago. She and the meatballs were very happy until the husband had a little fling with a few of Carmine's meatballs and everything fell apart. Susan didn't understand the fuss, Carmine's meatballs were no big deal but the husband disagreed and set on a path to replicate them.
Susan was mad!
She yelled any time he made a stupid pot of sub-par meatballs. She refused to eat them.
She made mean comments about them.
She argued with everyone who said they liked them.
This went on for months until the husband finally said alright already! and agreed to make them only every third pot and to let Susan know well in advance.
Susan found this arrangement agreeable.

Now things are back to normal, the husband has given up his quest to make ordinary meatballs, Susan has simmered down and everything's good in the kitchen again.

The last two mornings Susan had a little meltdown as she left the house for work. Neither was created in a vacuum, the husband's mouth was present.
Yesterday's explosion was immediate, and it only took a little nudge. Today's was just as quick and ended with Susan throwing a banana.
In each case the cause of the argument wasn't really significant except for the one where the husband started a conversation then lost interest when it was Susan's turn to talk.
Banana incoming!

Tomorrow's Another Day

Susan became completely unhinged while on the phone with the husband the other night. She caught the dog sneaking back upstairs after it had peed on the carpeting. The dog pees all the time and Susan doesn't care because it's on wood and linoleum, but she doesn't need a f*cking carpet cleaning job to take care of when she's not even keeping up with the regular cleaning jobs. Grrrrrr!
Her frustration over the dog compromised the protective barrier she maintains to hold back all the rest of her frustration. Everything exited through her mouth,
over the phone, into the husband's ear.
All her anger, private opinions and general hopelessness that anything in the world will ever work out was now open for discussion, which isn't really what she wanted to do. Luckily, the husband has a deep understanding of his TWISTED Susan and treated her tirade like any other conversation.
She calmed down, waited for him to get home, watched Top Chef and went to sleep.

Friday Night Date

Even after so many, many years together Susan's husband is still a spontaneous romantic.
Friday night immediately after dinner he announced that he was taking Susan out.
Just like that, out!
They kissed the kids, grabbed the keys and disappeared.

They didn't have to go far because there was a place right in the neighborhood that was perfect. It was all decked out in fall splendor with pumpkins and pot upon pot of golden mums and purple kale.

Susan and the husband walked around and talked about all sorts of things. The husband spent even more money than he spent on Susan's birthday. In fact he looked a little shocked when everything was added up. But, then Susan pulled out her coupons and they packed up their groceries and went home.

Fifteen

Susan and the husband made it across the finish line to their fifteenth wedding anniversary. What stamina!

What is their secret?
Be nice, tell the truth, apologize as soon as you figure out you're wrong. This is all pretty obvious. Susan has also established some bad behavior standards that she will not sink beneath, such as calling him names or embarrassing him. This has nothing to do with yelling & screaming at him like a crazy shrew, because making him mad is ok.

Susan has figured out how to keep her low libido from eradicating the romance in her marriage by limiting the amount of I'm too tireds in a given period.
Sometimes Susan even does things that she never did before, like make the bed every morning, just because she knows the husband likes it.

Susan doesn't keep quiet, she sez whatever she needs to say and she won't back off from a fight, but this only extends to the husband, with anyone else she backs off.

After so many years manacled together Susan is still interested in hearing his opinion on a range of topics. She might also request that he refrain from offering his opinion because she's trying to read the paper or listen to the TV or she just can't stand to hear him say one more word.

Fifteen years and Susan's not tired of her man yet,
but there's always next year.

22 Things Susan Likes About The Husband

Susan's husband had a birthday the other day, and even though it ended in a zero Susan didn't feel compelled to do anything about it other than make him coffee in the morning and submit to a personal request later on.

Susan isn't much for ceremony, she doesn't require it for herself and she doesn't provide it for others. She's not running out to spend four dollars on a card at the store, so don't wait for one. And, if you've told her more than every single time that you don't like the gift she's chosen for you, she's not giving you any more.

But, after so many years manacled together in wedded bliss, and even though she's got to force him to sit down and read her BLAHg, he still makes her happy.
Here's some reasons why;

• He makes fantastic meatballs
• Describing the birth of his son he said 'I never knew how exhausting it was to yell at someone for four hours'
• He sings
• He is very adept at winning arguments, but takes it easy on Susan
• He runs around in the yard with the kids
• He can be counted on to complete any disagreeable task
• He tells funny stories from his youth about neighborhood brawling
• He apologizes by saying 'I've decided to forgive you'
• He cracks Susan's toes
• He doesn't build himself up by making others feel small
• If he doesn't know something, he knows a guy who knows
• He ingores Susan when she gets all TWISTED and acts like a baby
• He doesn't worry about things he can't control
• He makes Susan's coffee exactly the way she likes it
• He can Lindy
• He liked the same moody 1975 album that Susan did
• He thinks Susan is funny
• He ordered a bushel of clams and didn't know what to do with them so he called up his friend George for suggestions & ended up making fantastic garlicy, steamed clams for Susan's birthday
• He's impressive with a yo-yo
• He sez that being mad at Susan is like being mad at a puppy
• He turns Susan's compost heap every week
• He raised two smart, independent, caring & wonderful girls before he was married to Susan that have always been terrific big sisters.

The Day Of Rest

Susan spent most of the day not speaking with the husband. Unfortunately, she couldn't entirely un-manacle herself from his company. But, not talking to him was satisfying enough.

The morning started out as every Sunday morning does, with the promise of reading the papers over coffee.
Is there no greater joy than that?
Of course there isn't.

Susan made the coffee and while it brewed a combination of factors sent her into a TWISTED spiral of angry frustration. It began with the dishwasher not effectively cleaning the dishes. Susan muttered to herself as she discovered that dish after cup after spoon needed to be rinsed off. Susan should not be rinsing anything, that's what the dishwasher is for. She began re-loading the machine and intercepted a wine glass that the husband had hand washed & left to dry.

Let's stop right here.
Susan and the husband have a history involving his hand washing of glassware.
The husband has been instructed repeatedly not to engage in any hand washing of any glassware because he consistently leaves behind any or all of the following;
fingerprints, grease smudges, soap residue, dried food and Chapstick lips.
Susan no longer delivers this request in a civilized manner, she goes immediately to berserk.

Susan picked the wine glass up and held it to the light,
as she does with all the glassware, and saw the telltale remnants of the husband's handiwork.

By this time the husband had entered the kitchen.
Susan pointed out, for the millionth time, that another wine glass had been washed dirty by himself.

Susan was hungry. Susan had dishes in her hands.
There were words coming out of the husband's mouth but who really gives a sh*t and just stop washing the f*cking glasses!

Susan made this request several times in close succession and increasing shrillness because the husband was trying to put forth his convoluted nonsense. However, when she heard him threaten to throw her wine glasses into the garbage her frustration reached critical mass.
Susan suggested that they can start throwing everything out right now and made her point by throwing a cereal bowl at him.
She didn't throw it at his stupid face, she threw it at his feet.

The rest of the morning & most of the afternoon was spent in arctic silence, even during their time as dinner guests in his sister's house.

This Post Has Been Deleted By The Blogger

Susan stayed up quite late last night writing a post about something that disturbed her husband before he even read a word.
Oh, my!

The subject post was very long and funny and Susan didn't even write anything bad about anything.

The husband advised Susan to delete her hard work.
She complied, but would like it noted for the record that the husband is a bummer.