I WISH YOU ALL AN OLIN

Photo: "Olin"

Written in 2006, but still wonderfully true today...


THEN & NOW:

     My husband Olin is my best friend, and he has changed my life like water changes a wasteland. He has helped me grow and learn and,though he did not spell them out, he has helped me come to realize the principles that I now hold closest to my soul. If not for him I might still be struggling with some very basic truths: That positive thinking can change the world, that the truth is always worth fighting for, and that God's face is found in the pursuit of goodness. 

     Olin loves me, and his love has moved me, helped me grow into something better, someone I can love. His love has helped me love myself. Love is wonderfully circular that way. Olin's love is awesome and unique; it is a verb. He jumps into loving me and our kids with both feet. I've never seen ANYONE love the way he does, especially when it comes to fathers and their children. I tell him that he loves like a mother loves, but he doesn't. He loves more than most mothers do! I don't think he gets this particular idea, sometimes he imagines that I've insulted all fathers everywhere. Maybe I have. It is hard to explain... Olin is a deeply devoted, hands-on kind of dad, and that in itself amazes me. I grew up in a world where 'mom' took care of the kids and 'dad' brought home the paycheck. Dads were the elusive creatures that almost belonged to the family, but that frightened everyone more than Satan himself. They were the detached, sullen, often violent members of the household that considered themselves superior to their progeny and “the little woman” (who was herself treated more like the “Head Kid” than an equal.) I thank God that my dad was different, much better (more on this beloved fellow later) but most of the dad's I knew wanted their kids to be a badge on one of the jackets hanging in the back of their closet, something you pull out and show off when the time is right. These dads brought home the bacon, but they left all the hands-on parenting to the females. Time for a bath? Go tell Mom. Got a booger? Mom will hold the hanky while you blow. But Olin pursues the hands-on parenting experience like no man I've ever met. He is never detached by choice, he is rarely sullen (Lets be honest here; we are all human.)  He is a dad that brushes a child's hair with such tenderness that it sometimes brings tears to my eyes. I've seen him endure more pain than I believe I could've ever tolerated, and I've seen him rise above it to stand as a dad among men, someone his children can all be proud of. With quiet eyes I've watched and I've seen that he survives for love, mostly the love he has for his children. I've seen him love them with every fiber in his body, and I've heard him ask all the questions that I've come to think of as “Mom questions.”

     “What did you eat today?”

     “Did you sleep well last night?”

     “What are you planning to do with yourself now?”

     He gets eye to eye and heart to heart and he TEACHES! He knows that the surest way to love someone is to teach them-- especially if you can teach them something valuable, and it is easy to see that Olin wants to bless all our kids, and me, with every morsel of knowledge he has... He loves them and teaches them. He loves me and he helps me teach myself. He explains things in a way that I understand-- eventually, and he hands the me tools to further investigate the matter. He gets me. And though I learn slooow and stubborn 'cause I already think I know it all, but he plods right along. He gets me like no one else ever has. Perhaps it is simply his tenacity that makes the difference. He never gives up on my catching the same truths that he caught years ago. He knows I'm stubborn-- but worth it. He helps me teach myself, which, autodidact that I am, is my favorite way to learn. He asks me questions until I trip over the truth that I wanted to know, needed to know. If the truth hurts-- and it often does-- then he holds my hand while the stones of truism pass, and believe me they sometimes hurt more than any physical pain I've ever endured (and I've been through a wringer or two) but the disappointment and pain does pass. Olin holds my hand, wipes my tears, which always cause him an uncomfortable tension. (“What should he do? What should he do?”) He tells me a few of his beautiful lame jokes and the world eventually rights itself.

     That is often how I grow now. I've always been thirsty to learn, but since he has come into my life all has been efficacious; my soul has been on Miracle-Grow! I've grown from an oft times nearly suicidal individual to a lady that rises each morning with love in her heart, not only for her fellow man but for that flawed chick looking out of the mirror. I now rise with a feeling of promise and an understanding for the world. (I say "nearly suicidal" because I accepted long ago that a mother should never give up, should never hurt her kids that way/that much, should never set that kind of example. But the desire to off myself still settled over me like a thick, dark fog, until he helped me grow into a more positive person.) I've moved from being a people-hater to one of the most nurturing people-lovers that I know. I've learned how to love the unlovable and how to do the “impossible”. When he met me, I hated the fact that I had been born female and I was holding a pretty big grudge against God for it. Watching the reverence and awe that Olin shows to his sisters, his daughters, and to the memory of his mother, made me take a longer, deeper look at being female. It made me realize that I could never have been a "mother" if I had not been born a "female". It has made me see that being female is fine. As a matter of fact, from my point of view it's perfect. I've learned to love it! I can now sing with my mother when she breaks into an old song that quips, "I adore being a girl."

      Don't get me wrong-- I get some of the credit for my improvements, all of it if you factor in that when I married him I was hoping he would help me improve and I could help him improve. I've grown only in the direction I wanted to grow and only on my own stubborn terms, (Lord bless him for putting up with them!) but Olin has shown me paths I'd frantically overlooked many times before. He pointed out a life that I had only dreamed could be real. Of course, I had to choose which paths to walk, I had to walk them myself, claim the life as my own, but I would likely still be searching for it, ear deep in briers, if not for him. And, --this is the best part-- he doesn't feed me fish. He teaches me to fish. The practices and truths he's taught me will roll into improving my life forever. I've moved from being a desert to being a lush oasis teaming with life and possibilities. I'm in a different so-much-better-place than I was . I'm happy. I've grown in leaps and bounds, in positive ways, and most of my growth is a small tribute to the man that loved me enough to teach my stubborn ass how better to get along in this old world! I'm sure I would have survived without him, but I'm certainly glad I didn't have to! Olin is one of the best of many blessings my Creator has given me. My husband's very existence in my life offers sure proof that God loves me.

     To my husband, when you read this:

     Thanks and kudos to you, my best friend. I know it's been difficult for you too, many a time. I know that you have expended more energy on me than Oak Ridge harbors. I'm sorry for all the times you felt like pulling out your hair-- or mine. I'm sorry for any gray hairs I put on your head. And I'm sorry for every time my stubbornness, which you pointed out so long ago could be a good thing or a bad thing, has been a bad thing. I'm sorry for every time it worked against me instead of for me. I've got a much better handle on that now, but I know I can never repay you for all those headaches and all those hours. Still, I promise to make my stubbornness work for us not against us. I will channel that stubborn nature and I will continue working on me with more tenacious backbone than ever. I will not forget that actions speak louder than words. And I will be an investment. The more you help me the more I can help you. Love is wonderfully circular that way, and I do love you bushels, and ever so much more than I did on on that day we were wed beneath "The Hanging Tree". 

     To the rest of you:

     If you don't know this man you should. I wish you all an 'Olin' in your own life. We should all be blessed enough to have someone that will ask us the tough questions and hold our hand while we grow...