Your Glass

The wonderful man with whom I pledged to spend the rest of my life is a self-proclaimed pessimist.  He’s a devoted husband and adoring father, but his glass is always half empty.  Sometimes it’s completely empty and he’s certain he’ll never drink again.  I, however, am an optimist.  My glass is always at least half full.  And there’s never a fear of it being completely empty, because I’ll just fill it up again.  I have the power to do that.  We all do, really.  Sometimes, though, we need someone else to fill it up for us.

My husband and I hosted a pig roast over the weekend.  The weather was of enormous concern, as the party was being held outdoors.  We rode the weather roller coaster for weeks.  Two weeks out, the forecast called for sunshine and 70 degrees.  A week later, the forecast changed to rain and 55.  My sweetheart wanted to scream.  His glass was draining quickly, but I helped fill it up.  I told him everything would be fine.  The chance of rain was only 10 percent.  And besides, we had rented a tent, I reminded him.  Finally, on the eve of the pig roast, the meteorologist proclaimed partly sunny skies and 65 degrees for the day of our party.  In my opinion, that’s the perfect fall day.  I looked at my overflowing glass and sighed with relief.  My husband, however, was still convinced it would be a disaster.

My other half wanted everything to be perfect.  He agonized over the lawn, the unfinished projects, and whether we’d have enough food and beer.  In the meantime, I lovingly carved big, orange pumpkins and set purple, yellow and rust-colored mums inside.  I placed these centerpieces on every table, after first donning the tables with cheery lemon yellow tablecloths.  I made luminaries out of my old mason jars, filling each with rocks and tea lights and then tying little bows around the top with twine I had lying around.  I filled my glass.  My husband just shook his head.

The day of the pig roast began with rain, before the sun broke through the heavy fall clouds.  I celebrated the beautiful weather.  Then I heard, “The pig is already done!”  3 hours before the party was to start.  My love’s glass was empty again.

My father-in-law and my husband wrapped the pig and kept it warm, and I headed out to get some last-minute items to soothe my husband’s stress.  My phone rang while I was checking out at the grocery store.  “We need a heater,” he said.  His voice cracked, and I knew he was nearing the end of his rope.  “I’ll take care of it,” I said, adding, “It’ll be fine.”  “No, it won’t.”  “Yes, it will.  I love you, and I’ll see you soon.”  I poured everything I had in my glass into his.

I brought everything –including a heater– back home, we got things situated and people started arriving.  They ate, drank, visited, oohed and ahhed over the house, the yard and the decorations.  My husband received numerous accolades on his preparation of the pig and for pulling off such a great party.  We all filled our glasses and toasted in celebration.

As we sat around the impressive bonfire after our guests trickled out, I looked at my husband.  “I love you dearly,”  I started.  He glanced sideways at me.  “And it’s with all the love I have for you that I say this,”  I continued.  He raised his eyebrows.  “I told you so.”  He laughed.  “That’s why I married you,” he said.  I leaned forward and kissed him firmly on the lips.  “I know,”  I grinned.  “I fill your glass.”



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  1. DEBBIE says:


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