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now leaving crazyville – birthday blog
an affair? definitely an affair.
or maybe just maybe a serious illness, an inoperable terminal illness?
oh, i know, i know.. we’re stone cold broke, yeah, that’s it, he spent all our money on house tschotkes.
my birthday is almost over.
well, today is almost over, my birthday is gonna continue for weeks & weeks & weeks.
like ramadan.
weeks & weeks & weeks.
except there is no fasting involved.
eating, drinking.
drinking, eating.
which brings me to…
ken has been extraordinarily generous this birthday day. by generous i mean kind. kind as in: whatever you want, need, ask for, just tell me what you want and i’m gonna do it, get it, be it for you.
anything you want.
whatdya want, he asks.
hmmm, i think, thought.
hmmmm.
this doing anything i want, ask for, need, crave… this doesn’t sit well, bode well with me.
but i also think: wow. cool. fabulous. love this.
bring it on.
bring.
it.
on.
gimme.
but then i think: really… anything. why? why?
something must be wrong.
something must be fucking wrong.
maybe, i think, maybe – yeah that’s it – he’s having an affair.
maybe.
i ask him point blank while i’m holding a fork: hey, so, what’s her name.
he laughs.
really laughs.
i don’t.
he heaps on the love.
flowers, cards, champagne. little purple LED lights on trees & home made wreaths, and even does some much needed kitchen plumbing (PLUMPING?), drives me back & forth to nyc FOR… SUSHI.
maybe, i think, maybe, she’s japanese, korean, chinese…asian.
maybe.
maybe she’s just perfectly skinny like wooden chop sticks.
champagne.
plus… a 90 minute massage at home.
enough.
enough with the kindness & goodness & generosity & massages & champagne & fucking LED lighting. enough with the cards, and fucking sushi.
this is it, i think, this is when ken sits me down and tells me that A) he’s having an affair with some, some … some perfectly skinny asian slash italian slash french woman who barely speaks english but laughs at all his jokes and loves his nose hairs B) he’s dying, that he has inoperable brain prostrate lung cancer and has only a few weeks, days to live, or C) that he has spent every single penny we have saved on windows and doors and toilets and paper fucking towels for the new house addition.
i tell nancy, confide in nancy, as she massages me, that i think maybe ken is having an affair, because, you know, he’s being so kind, loving, generous, thoughtful, good hearted, and overwhelmingly sweet.
she says maybe he is, maybe the other family is living in your basement, you know, since you never go down there anyway, maybe they’re living down there, you know…the basement family.
holy shit, i say, that’s possible. like a weird reality show. a whole life below me. living, eating, laughing. oh my god, i never go down there. yes, yes, of course, there could be a whole family living down there. i mean, yes, i do go down there, but usually with one eye closed as i bolt straight for the garage. (for those who have read my book, you know all about my basement, for those who know nothing about my basement, please, dear god, please buy my book.)
and of course, now i’m more tense, much tighter, my entire body is in defense mode. the basement family, yes, yes, of course, I think. of course, of course… a whole crew of quiet, small, people. we have a wood burning stove down there, a few pieces of old crappy furniture… they could cook and sleep. i’m now spinning a whole kinda sister-wife-dwarf mormon type o’ story, but obviously with a side of wacky and crazy… you know: moronism. nancy and i riff off into this whole new possibility, including home schooling and pottery throwing. i mean really, would i even know? no, i would not.
i live in denial on the main floor of the house. complete and utter denial.
there’s life below me, and i don’t even know about.
nancy and i agree that out of all three possibilities – affair, cancer, bankruptcy – affair is the winner.
ken comes into the garden room, where i am in fact getting this fabulous birthday gift/massage and i’m – lucky him – face-up. nancy is trying to get all the kinks out, and i say, ask boldly: okay buddy, what’s up? fess up, whats her name? and he smiles, his gorgeous sexy ken smile and says:
you know something, you’re fucking nuts, you know that. why can’t it just be that i love you. that i love you more every single day. that i fucking love you like a crazy man, why can’t it just be that i wanna give you the world, and you never ask for it, you never ask for big things, huge things, and why can’t it just be that i love you?
he bends down and kisses me, and leaves the garden room.
silence.
nancy looks down at me.
i look up at her.
nancy’s cute.
i like her.
she gets the kink out of my neck.
i close my eyes. breathe in & out, in & out. in & out.
my third eye comes into view.
amazing clarity. i grab it, seize it.
and i say out loud:
he.
loves.
me.
and just like that, just like that, i drive straight outta crazyville, and get off at the exit where the sign (which is yes, lit in a gazillion little purple LED lights) reads, “welcome to trust.”
Category: Uncategorized 12 comments »
December 4th, 2012 at 11:54 pm
You are too funny.
You made my day, my wife Sheryl rides the same crazy train with you when it comes to concerns why I am being too nice.
Happy Birthday, Happy Life to you with Ken
December 5th, 2012 at 12:37 am
Oh, honey, you had the rug pulled out from you so many times. It makes perfect sense that the better it gets, the more it frightens you. After all, what if you believe? What if you relax into it and then it all goes south into darkness and horror and betrayal and you’d Never. Survive. It.
But the rug stayed put and it turns out it was made out of cashmere and you could wrap yourself up in it all snuggy warm, and have your love come and hold you all wrapped up and say “Your heart is safe with me.”
Happy birthday. I love you.
Maya
December 5th, 2012 at 1:30 am
YES. 🙂 Of course he loves you you ninny! LOL!
December 5th, 2012 at 1:38 am
pictured you all day being loved on by your sweet husband. figured he would treat you right. glad it was a splendid day…you deserve all that and more.
December 5th, 2012 at 11:48 am
This reminded me of my meditation last night. About letting go of ghosts, changing them to memories that don’t have to be relived, don’t have to rule my life anymore. Enjoy your opened heart.
December 5th, 2012 at 12:00 pm
[…] was just reading a blog by Amy Ferris written on the occasion of her […]
December 9th, 2012 at 12:41 pm
He does love you. Truly, truly loves you. Anyone can see that. I’m glad you can, too. xo
December 9th, 2012 at 1:01 pm
I’m crying now. great. : )
girl girl girl > RECEIVE!
(but yes, trust is a hard one to learn. huge. & you did it. biggest/best birthday gift)
December 15th, 2012 at 3:56 pm
I just downloaded your book because: 1) I need something to read at 3:00 a.m. 2) I’m curious about your basement, since I have a similar relationship with mine 3) you mentioned somewhere on your site you’re on the other side of menopause. Other side? There’s an exit? I have to follow up on this glimmer of hope.
Happy Birthday.
December 20th, 2012 at 12:42 pm
This post is lovely.
nancy’s cute.
i like her.
Love the whole thing, but something about this line is incredibly awesome.
December 22nd, 2012 at 5:26 pm
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December 22nd, 2012 at 5:31 pm
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