Several years ago, I put a humongous dent in the side of our van when I was backing down a narrow alley with a cinderblock wall. This was less than 2 weeks after I'd already caught the edge of the sliding door on a wooden light pole and folded a small part of it back like a sardine can. And even though I knew he wouldn't be mad at me, I was afraid to tell my husband what I'd done.
We had to meet across town, so he could watch the girls when I ran in for an appointment, and I drove straight from the accident site. When I got out of the car, I was on the verge of tears. I felt horrible! I mean, in a time span of 2 weeks, I put a few thousand dollars' worth of damage on our vehicle. I couldn't believe it. All I could think of when I was driving to meet him was that he works so incredibly hard to support us, and I just blew way too much money on a careless mistake.
He was waiting outside his work truck when I pulled up. He had a big smile on his face when he saw me, and I just started crying. He pulled me into his arms and squeezed while I just kept saying how sorry I was. His response? "You know, Jude, as soon as I'm perfect, I'll expect you to be."
I was speechless.
His kind words and love made me totally forget how horrible I was feeling over this huge mistake I'd made.
Our family isn't perfect. We're obviously not perfect people, or we wouldn't have a hoarding situation. We get irritated with one another. We argue at times, but we realize that to get respect from one another we must give it. So we don't run each other down to anyone, ourselves included. We don't tell others about our arguments. We don't shred one another with personal insults even when we are at our angriest. And we certainly don't share one another's short comings in a public forum. Ever.
I can't imagine how betrayed I'd feel, if I found he was telling others how much he disliked this, that or the other thing I do that bothers him. I'm know he'd feel betrayed, if I did, too, and I would never want to hurt him like that.
He's my best friend.
I am indeed blessed.
Compulsive hoarding is a mental disorder that is just beginning to be understood. As a hoarder, I have acquired things over the years with a specific purpose in mind at the time of the acquisition, used some of those items for their intended purposes, forgotten the goal for different objects, but now that I find that they have outlived their purpose in my life I am struggling to rid myself of those same things.
You can read the start of my journey here.