What I Mean, but Can’t Seem to Say Out Loud

When everything happened in June of 2013, when my darling Mr. Wonderful lost his job because of the lies and deceit of one person, along with unflagging ineffectiveness and/or unfounded repugnance of another, I truly believed our lives were over. My first call was to my Mom, to let her know that we were probably going to have to move in with her and my dad. She cried with me on the phone, and maybe partially because of the thought of the 4 of us hooligans being a constant in their beautiful and peaceful home.

After a call to my sister, the next was to our dear friends. I hate admitting defeat. I hated that everyone would see the true Mr. and Mrs. Wonderful, who hadn’t been able to make a go of it as parents, as career persons, as people living on their own, as adults. I was sure that everyone from church people, to family, friends, and neighbors now knew the truth about Mr. Wonderful and me: that we were losers.

Our friends came to our rescue in more ways than one. They showed up for our July 4 BBQ with a huge bale of packing boxes. Not since my days of working at UHaul, had I seen that many boxes in one place. With teary eyes, but with smiles pasted on their faces, they held our hands through this trial and helped us to figure out what to do next, where to go, how to breathe. They were pissed on our behalf. Everyone was pissed on our behalf. But with these two, I didn’t feel like I had to defend the idiot ex-employers, or try to put on a happy face. With this couple, we could just BE. And we didn’t have to pretend to be happy or pretend anything. We just were. And the times we spent with them (which were many, since they helped us move, helped us with our already-planned adoption party for our girls, and cleaned and painted the inside of the house we moved into, then turned around a year later and helped us clean up and paint and move walls and doorways of the OTHER house we moved into) were just like always: maybe the only sanity we had, through it all.

We were scared and didn’t think we could live without Mr. Wonderful’s income. OK it was true: we couldn’t. We emptied out two retirement accounts in the time he wasn’t working. But we never went hungry. We never went without things we needed. Sometimes we rationed out the milk and bread so the kids would have food to eat. Sometimes we sat home on a Friday night and ate leftover goulash even though we lived 2 blocks from the pizza place  and could smell it, and wanted it so much.

My point is that it’s NOT EASY, but nobody thinks less of you for losing your job. You always try to do the right thing and you love your family and friends so much. I have rarely seen that kind of love in another human being. You are a wonder. Yes, at times you’re outwardly grouchy, but it doesn’t fool me. Behind those eyes is a depth of caring for your family, protection of them, and putting yourself on the line that you don’t see every day. Next to Mr. Wonderful, you’re the only other man I see our age, over and over again, doing the difficult things even if you don’t like them because it’s RIGHT. You often talk about doing the right thing, And I know you’ll do it. Because that’s who you are.

You sacrifice yourself to help others and act like it’s no biggie. You have paid our way more times than I care to remember, or maybe could ever pay back. And I don’t even know why. McDonald’s dollar menu with friends is just as good as a steakhouse with friends. It’s the FRIENDS that matter, not the stuff surrounding them.

Failure is not a word that you know, or should become familiar with. It’s freaking scary when you don’t know what’s going to happen, but you have to believe me when I say I KNOW BEYOND A SHADOW OF A DOUBT that everything will be OK for you guys. You might not like everything that happens, but you’re going to be OK.

Because I believe in you…. in the both of you. And I know you’ve got this. You two are our very best friends in the world. And I hate that you’re having to deal with this. We’re still not finished dealing with it and I don’t feel like we will be until Mr. Wonderful has a job in his field again… It’s a process and we have had to learn to do things differently. And have a different level of spending. But in doing that, we’ve gained a whole other quality of life we had forgotten about: simple things. A walk, fireflies…. stars in the sky, bonfires, watching airplanes take off and land.

I wanted to say all this to you guys last weekend, but I’m so pissed on your behalf, that I couldn’t get it out. Life isn’t fair, and if anyone deserves to have the best life, it’s you two. You both give of yourselves and act like it’s nothing. It was everything, and just when we needed it the most. So our helping out this weekend isn’t a payback. It’s showing you the kindness and love that you showed us, just when we needed it.

I hope we can show you even a sliver of  the same love you showed to us over and over in the last 2 years. We are forever grateful.


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