When I was younger I had a friend who said that her mom had given her a foolproof test for her future boyfriends. This test was supposed to measure if some guy she was dating was "up to snuff." I thought it was dumb even back then, but indulged her enough to listen to her way to measure a good man.
Her idea was this:
Ask some guy with whom you've been out a couple of times on a secret date. Don't tell him what the date will entail or what to expect in any way. Then, go and pick him up in your car and drive him out to a field somewhere and tell him that your big date is to pick weeds in this field. If he bent down and got right to work without complaining it was supposed to show that he was a hard worker. If he didn't it meant he was some kind of lazy, good-for-nothing loafer and it was time to kick him to the curb.
After hearing her postulate I just stared at her in disbelief for a moment. Aside from the several things that were wrong with the logic, I could not understand why anyone would ever want to date someone who thought an evening of pulling weeds sounded like something fun to do. That kind of person sounded like a psycho to me.
I don't really believe in giving your significant other tests in any way, and restrain myself from doing so on most occasions. I think giving someone a test means that you've concocted some kind of harebrained scheme in order to see how he performs (reference above inane story).
However, I can only call the ear doctor actions over the past 24 hours a full fledged passing of whatever "boyfriend" test the universe may ever hurl at me.
Two and a half years ago I was dating someone else. I was dating him the day that I found out my Aunt was dying. In hacking, gripping, sobs dredged up from the depths of my soul I called him, yearning for his love and support. I was at my house, alone, late at night and desperately needed him to be there.
He never came over.
He let me be alone the first night of my life that I really felt I needed someone.
It was the worst feeling in my life.
At 22 years old it was the only night that my face was raw and puckered from falling asleep in tears.
Yesterday I got the news that my Uncle (the husband of the same Aunt) only has 4-6 weeks left. I knew the news was coming. You don't watch someone battle a brain tumor for 12 years without expecting the inevitable outcome. So even though it isn't sudden, it is still tragic and heartrending for me. I could barely bring myself to even tell the ear doctor about it last night...as if actually saying the words out loud made the situation all that more real, more concrete, more definite.
His love and support has overwhelmed me today. I feel so lucky and blessed to have a man in my life who is good and understands my needs. The only time I have been able to see clearly though my seemingly perma-tear-rimmed eyes has been when he is around.
He calms me.