|Posted on November 14, 2009 at 8:47 PM|
So many people tell me how lucky Elwood is to have me. I mean after all I'm sticking by him and researching and doing all I can to prove his innocence of these accusations and charges. I visit him as often as permitted in every weather and despite our financial hardship (before the economy tanked). I write him, etc.
But at the same time, I have always maintained that it is I who is lucky. When I met Elwood, I had given up on men and he showed me that there really are men out there who aren't afraid to do romantic things and outwardly demonstrate their love. We hold hands and he would come with me most anywhere I did. We had common interests and the things we didn't have in common complimented each other.
When I was sick with emesis throughout the first 3 months of pregnancy or so, Elwood would ask around and read books looking for ways to help me (his idea to use ginger for instance, not that it worked any better than peppermint candies, water, saltine crackers, or anything else allegedly and purportedly to solve pregnant women this problem - ha ha). It didn't matter that they didn't help; what mattered is that he cared enough to want to help.
When I was bloated and tired and full with a baby, he would tell me how beautiful he thought I was. I didn't even ask - in fact, I didn't ask because I had assumed he'd tell me the version of truth I thought was right. Lol...
On Mother's Day in 2007 (and boy am I glad it comes before Father's Day now) he surprised me with what he knew was my favorite desert (at the time): cheesecake and my favorite delicacy: chocolate covered strawberries. He made them himself. It was partly the hormones, but when I came home with Punky from the Mother/Daughter banquet at my grandmother's church I smelled it and saw them. I burst into tears. I cannot think of a single guy I've ever known who would have gone to so much trouble. And he insisted that even though Punky was only a few months old that I have a card - from her naturally. I still have those cards.
When I visit him, he still finds ways to do romantic things. A few times now he'll use condiments like ketchup and mustard to draw a heart on his burger patty or write "I (heart) u", etc. A few times the guards have poked fun at him much to my annoyance and he just smiles at me.
And I could go on and on. So who is the lucky one - truly? Maybe we both are? My girlfriend, Amanda, believed strongly in soul mates and soul companions, etc. We were destined to meet, but what if we didn't connect and like two ships passing in the night we parted ways? There were moments before Punky was born that I didn't think we'd be together another moment; it's ironic that we've grown closer since he's been in prison.
I can't imagine anyone else I'd have this emotional connection during this physical separation. I'm guessing he'd tell you he's the lucky one, but I have many more reasons for telling you that I am and isn't luck simply believing one is lucky?
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