Tuesday, October 16, 2012

It’s a Crying Shame…

As I struggle through the front door, trying to balance my bundles, keep the dogs from jumping, and close the door with my heel, I am taken aback by my hubby sitting in his recliner with tears streaming down his face.
“Steve, what’s wrong?” I exclaim, dropping my keys, abandoning my parcels,  then running to his side.
He says not a word, but continues to stare at the TV screen as flood-works course down his cheeks and drip onto his shirt.
“Sweetie, are you alright?” I now grab his hand as I kneel by his chair.
Still no response from Hubby, so I turn my attention to the program he is glued to. I am expecting to see images of an assassination, or terrorist attack. Maybe a catastrophic event such as a tsunami, earthquake or such.
Instead I see a crab boat filled with orange rainslickered fishermen fighting to hang on to the deck as they are pounded by gigantic crashing waves and huge chunks of ice.
“What is wrong?” I persisted. “Did someone get washed overboard?”
Steve’s tearstained face nods mutely.
I sigh and slowly get to my feet. Walking back to my abandoned groceries, I shake my head in wonderment. My Sweetie watches his crab fishing show religiously with baited breath (pun intended), hoping to see someone lose a finger or hand, or get washed overboard. After all, just watching a bunch of guys fishing for hours on end would be too boring, right?
I sigh again and head off to the kitchen. The dogs follow, tails wagging expectantly. I get them both a biscuit while contemplating the many funerals we’ve attended over the years. Steve will sit stone-faced while those around us, myself included, dab at tears and sniffle. Some will be crying as my Sweetie is now. He says he doesn’t understand why anyone would cry at a funeral.
Oh my.
I ran across an Aspie discussion regarding attachments and feelings in the  Wrong Planet forum. 
I don't often get attached to people (though when I do its VERY strong), but I do seem to get attached a lot to fictional characters and pets. Several people in my family have died in the last few years and I hardly cared aside from having to make an excuse why I couldn't attend the funerals (I don't care how much I like someone, I hate funerals). when my cat died, I didn't get out of bed for 3 days. Same when the 11th doctor "died" on Doctor Who.”
I see this with my husband, and I just don’t get it. I can read about it, and intellectually I can accept it, but I just don’t understand. There are many things about Steve’s reactions to life situations that I haven’t puzzled out yet, and quite frankly, I may never understand.
But he puts up with my wild antics while watching my sports games, so I can ‘put up’ with his histrionics during TV shows.
Except when SpongeBob gets flattened or popped out of shape. Then I can barely contain my laughter!


  1. So So hear you. My Step-Father died last month and i ended up walking out on them so I could go home to comfort my mother. They had been married for 35 years. Aspie Hubby just didnt get it. He wanted to know why I had to go, as I have so many siblings to look after her. Goodness - I was so glad I went. Truth is, their world fall apart without me - I do everything except breathe for them. If I leave work at 5 there will be 5 phone calls before I get home. If I am 10 late (traffic) then its, where were you, why did you take so long etc etc. Shopping has to be done in small shops because its too long apart. My Aspie son, was obsessed with Thomas the Tank and terrified of Diesel - hiding behind couches. When we went to an animated film he would lie on the floor so he couldnt see - too dramatic. BUT, his obsession is military and he watches Yutube footage and plays games with people being cut up, bombed, shot, mutilated etc without even a blink. Your entry to the house, is familar. I could make 5 trips bringing in shopping, limp with fatigue after work, trip over everything they have dropped in the doorway and the only one who greets me is the dog and he gets in the way. If Im in bed sick I'll be woken to "can you cook dinner now, im hungry"? I must admit though, im a crier too. I cry at ads, songs, movies, dreams, day-dreams etc - probably a symptom of my undiagnosed depression.

    1. oh how good it is to know that i am not alone - thank you for sharing...

  2. Storytelling clearly defines people and their relationships. They're Real by having been defined. People walking around are ciphers, empty shells, Non-Player Characters.

    It's funny that my first thought upon reading this post was that the 11th Doctor hasn't "died" yet. Then I realized which episode you meant, and nodded sagely with understanding.

    1. thank you for sharing - 'storytelling' is a very apt description for my blogging - it's always a matter of perspective...