Life sails along without a hitch for a few seconds a week, a few days a year. The rest of the time things get messy, muddy.
Loverby and I stopped today and took a breather. Our marriage and our life needed a tune-up. It is painful and uncomfortable to put it up on the hydraulic lift and look underneath. Every thing's exposed. The wear, rust and deterioration are obvious.
Loose bolts have to be tightened. Sputtering mufflers need replaced. Tires get worn out and lose their grip. Fluids lose their viscosity. Parts need lubed. Chips in the windshield need stopped before they turn into cracks. Wipers need replaced to clean properly.
If feels overwhelming to take our marriage and life, individually and as a couple, into the garage and deal with it, but it is the only way to have the quality of life that is worth living. It is the only way to have enough leftovers to give away to a hurting hungry world.
Our garage is the marriage bed with the door locked and the lights turned down low. The garage isn't the place for movie set sex.
It is the place for tears, affection, safe conversation, confession, dreams, and naked truth. Needs are expressed, wants and desires are spoken of out loud, failures are forgiven, prayers sent, disappointment heard. Hopes are risked, requests asked for, depression admitted, fears quieted. Feathers smoothed. Tears wiped.
When we take the time to go to the garage, we realize how much we miss playing, teasing, flirting, smiling, and especially.....laughing. Mostly, we remind ourselves to relax and not take everything so seriously. We remember again that beauty saves the world, not worry.
We remember that it takes only a little bit of creative thinking and planning to bring a romantic moment to fruition.
When the lift sets us down on the floor, our thankfulness leaves us purring.
P.S. Our mechanic doesn't charge a thing. He has a mysterious way of sending notifications for when it is time for a tune-up. They don't come with a stamp....