wifercize wednesday: cyber-sentimentality

I have a stubborn habit of having to know.  I just...have to know.  I have to know what you're laughing at, I have to know why you have that scar, I have to know why the lady on the bus is frowning, I have to know how to reupholster a chair*, I have to know when I'm going to become pregnant, I have to know who said the pope could be the pope.  Dan Brown recently told me the answer to that last one.  It's the answer that suits me, anyway.

* (I hope to reupholster a chair of ours and document the chaos progress on this blog.  Stay tuned.)

Andrew and I knew each other for six years before we started dating but that didn't stop me from Googling the heck out of him after our first date.  Family, fine, schooling, fine, interests, fine...that was all covered over Pho and, later, over coffee.  What I really wanted to know was what Andrew was like when I wasn't around.  The best way I know how to experience this is with the wondrous gateway of Google.

A friend of mine aided me in my quest, and we began to email links we found to each other.  The further we scrolled, the more delicious the outcomes:

I figured these moments of discovering e-nuggets about my husband were over.  I WAS WRONG.  Recently, while looking up his Wishlist on Amazon [lover, you didn't read that...at least, not until I give you your gift tonight] I happened upon a much older Wishlist of Andrew's.  First, his profile:

This, I love.  "Andrew D. Gazaneo".  It's not enough that Gazaneo is one of the rarest Italian names on the planet, nor that his family is the only family that shows up in a Canada411 search, Andrew felt it necessary to include the "D".  For "Domenic" - his father's name.  That's just so...Andrew.  Not to mention that the only point he decided to include in his profile is "My dog's name is Comet".  This too, is true.  Or was.  Comet was Andrew's dog since he was 10, and he passed away probably around the same time as Andrew when created this profile.  "My dog's name is Comet" is just as significant a characteristic as "D" for Domenic and he wanted Amazon to know it.

This archaic Wishlist had but one item on it:

A Panasonic DVD-L50 Portable DVD Player...by Panasonic.  "Currently unavailable" probably due to the decrease in DVD sales and, with it, a decrease in all items DVD related but, at one time, Andrew had his eye on this piece of technology enough to add it to a Wishlist.  He wished for it.  I can tell you why.  Firstly, it's portable.  Andrew is nothing if not practical.  I would bet he was thinking long-term and the lightweight, easy-to-handle, travel friendly body of this DVD player in particular appealed to him.  Secondly, Andrew was and still is an avid movie fan.  What better way to watch his beloved legal thrillers than on a built-in colour LCD monitor?  Lastly, it received an admirable 4.5 stars out of 5.  This means that Andrew did his research, as he still does to this day.  I'd put money down on the fact that he read the majority of all "142 customer reviews", if not all of them.

And there it sits, added October 27, 1999, "unpurchased", like a tiny time capsule of longing.  If I knew him then as I know him now it would have been purchased, delivered, wrapped, and presented to him with all the love in the world.

The irony is that Andrew had his name drawn at a church Christmas function when we were dating and won a portable DVD (or was it CD?) player and it remained in its original packaging until we re-gifted it a few years later.

Tonight, Andrew is being ordained as a pastor, legally recognized as a minister by the provincial government.  He's put in so much energy, time, and passion into the long-term vision of our church, he's researched all the stipulations, and, although he might not have turned out to be like Tom Cruise's character in The Firm, he is still a sexy beast and now has something better to brag about than his really hairy chest: he is the Reverend Andrew D. Gazaneo, his dog's name is Solomon, and his wife is very, very proud of him.

wifersize wednesday: the couple that prays together...

If the slogan were true, presumably, there wouldn't be a 21-34% (BTW: who keeps saying 50%?...let's find that person and tell them to stop being a party pooper) divorce rate among those claiming to be Christians.  But I'm not here to rant about divorce or why/when/where/how it functions in society.  I'd rather stick to Precious Moments™ stuffed angel dolls.

No one needs to tell married people that marriage is difficult.  We know.  Just last night I had a near meltdown trying to decide if I wanted to watch "The Client", "Double Jeopardy", or "Micmacs" for date night.  Was I in the mood for a thriller starring Tommy Lee Jones, a different thriller starring Tommy Lee Jones, or a foreign comedy?  We consulted each of the films' Tomatometers, watched the trailers, and eventually resorted to rock, paper, scissors (first, between thriller and foreign, then between each of the thillers).  Andrew learned last night that when I say, "I don't care" about a movie choice, I mean just that.  Making me care will result in me wedging my head between couch cushions to scream.

Life isn't always easy and it doesn't just end at date night movie selection.  Sometimes it's job selection, or car selection, or house selection.  Sometimes it's family holidays, or hard days at work, or trying to have a baby.

Last April, when Andrew and I were in Mexico for a pastor's retreat (sounds glamourous, I know, except that we were only there for 48 hours which was just long enough for me to contract a case of explosive diarrhea), he rolled over in bed and proposed, "Let's pray together before we go to sleep.  It doesn't have to be long, and it doesn't have to be every night, but I'd like it if we prayed together."

It seemed like a decent enough question - after all: we are pastors.  Some of you are horrified that we don't pray together all THROUGH the night but, no, we don't.  We're human too.  We like to dive into bed after a long day, kiss, and fall asleep as soon as our bodies allow us to (10 seconds, on average, for me and about 40 minutes for Andrew).  We'd pray together for The Big Things but hadn't, as of yet, prayed regularly, every night, for everything.

And, because we're human, it was awkward at first.  Often we'd forget.  Often we'd I'd pretend to forget when really I couldn't think of anything to pray about, or I was mad at something, or I just wanted to sleep.  But we became used to it and now we do it fairly regularly.  You know what?  It's really, really nice.  Nicer than I thought it would be.  There's something wonderfully soothing about your husband's-right-beside-your-pillow-voice chatting to God about the day, about the problems we both faced in it, and about people in our lives we love.

The Washington Post wrote an article a little while back entitled "Couples who share religious practices tend to be happier than those who don't".  In it, an interviewed woman sums it up nicely:

"Prayer is the great reconciler."

Since marriage is difficult I figure we should invest on being reconciled to each other at least daily.  And since God was with us on Day 1 of our marriage, it's nice to end each of its days with him.

"The family that prays together stays together; 

and if you stay together, you will love one another with 

the same love with which God loves each one of us."

[Mother Theresa]