Oct 30

Married to William Wallace

The second place my husband and I lived in after we got married was a small two bedroom apartment with white walls, a fireplace, and a little closed-in porch. We only lived there for a year before moving out, but I can still remember the small sword holes in the ceilings and walls. (holes that must have been the reason why we did not get our “deposit” back)Photo 97

And yes, I said “sword holes.”

For our second anniversary I gave my husband a replica of the sword William Wallace carries in the movie Braveheart. I am five-six and from the tip of the blade to the top of the handle it comes to rest just above my chin. It has a rustic leather handle and I’m barely able to lift it with one hand…okay, so I can’t lift it with one hand.

Every guys dream, right?

Needless to say, he loved it.

But an interesting phenomena occurred when the sword was in his hands. Quite by surprise, I was met with the nine-year-old boy hiding inside him. At once, I knew inside his mind he thought of himself riding bareback on a horse, his face covered with ruddy blue war-paint.

“Okay, Linds,” he said, holding the sword. “If I guy came in right now to rob and pillage us. This is what I’d do.” He then proceeded to wield the sword around, jamming it into the drywall and then shoving it into the ceiling.

“Wow,” I said, just like a mother would her little boy. And, just like a little boy, that “wow” gave him just enough encouragement to continue the battle with a few more thrusts of the deadly weapon.

This happened frequently and still does–usually when I express my worry on if the front door is locked.

“It is, Linds. But don’t worry. If a guy climbed up to our bedroom and opened the door.” He pulls out the sword, “this is what I’d do.” And then I get to see another display of my husbands prowess and catlike reflexes in the event an intruder actually came in.

As funny as it is, I can’t help also thinking how wonderful this is. The bits of pretending and imagination that we hold inside us. Those pieces of dreams and imagining that haven’t died due to mortgages, car payments, medical bills, or jobs.

Pieces that allow us to imagine and dream and explore the “what if’s” of life, not with a checkbook (well, I’d just offer him money and it’ll be all right) or health insurance (We’ve got health insurance so if he does hurt us, we’ll be covered) or a security system (there’s no way he’d be able to breach the fortress of our alarm system so don’t worry), but with creativity, imagination, dreaming, and a really cool sword.

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