My grandfather had a player piano. He would play show tunes off old rolls and we would sing along, all crowded on the piano bench. Granny and Grampy's home was a sanctuary of love, pretty words, compliments, and delicious foods. The songs had cute lyrics and one of my favorites was The Cream In My Coffee.
You're the cream in my coffee,
You're the salt in my stew.
You will always be, my necessity,
I'd be lost without you.
You're the starch in my collar,
You're the lace in my shoe.
You will always be, my necessity,
I'd be lost without you.
It's an adorable song.
What is it like to be someone's cream for their coffee? How is life different when one is someone's starch in their collar, someone's lace in their shoe? I have a husband and while this blog is BY NO MEANS about how much I desperately love him and I'm so blessed to have him, blah blah blah, I do like that he will pick me up a coffee in the mornings at a coffee shop and put cream in it for me. The color of the underside of his wrist from his dark latin skin. Mauricio and I don't complete each other. Sure, we love each other, but we aren't partners like cream and coffee.
Is anyone? How much are we supposed to be happy in our marriages? How much are we expected to suffer? I wish I could ask Granny. I wish I could say, I know you're glad now, at 93, that you stayed with him, but was there ever a time that you couldn't stand him? What did you do? Did you ever feel that you were letting your best sides die by remaining married to him? I know divorce wasn't an option back in 1952, but knowing what you know now do you have any regrets?
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