"Love, Trust and Include"? I don't think so.
A co-worker whose husband was a gifted jazz pianist graciously invited us to a Christmas party at her home. "Bring your flute and play if you want," she said. Of course, I told her, "I'd love to!" After all, my Darling Husband plays piano beautifully, and we perform our favorite carols every year at church. We know them so well that we don't even have to rehearse together. Just get out the music and play - we're set.
On the fateful day, I dressed to the nines and packed up my music, stand, and flute. We arrived at a home beautifully decorated in pale white and creams, with a gleaming ebony baby grand as the centerpiece of a storybook home. No dust, no clutter, House Beautiful before our very eyes.
Instantly, all my shame issues stretched their scrawny necks and began to scream for worms. But I smacked their pin-feathered heads until they hid themselves deep in the nest of my heart, and I began to work the room because, you know, that's what you do at parties. My DH, being far less social, wandered off toward the hors d'oeuvres because, you know, that's what he does at parties.
Our host sat down at the piano and began to play from memory - jazzy chords and artful improvisation on familiar holiday themes. Soon my friend came up to me and said, "It's your turn. Where's your flute?"
I found my instrument, but not my husband. Inexplicably, my DH had vanished.
To be continued....
