The wait continues, but fortunately the progress is encouraging. After 10 days of making our first bid, and viewing a new listing that opened up right down the road from our local elementary school and making an offer on it, we received counteroffers on both. I rejected the latter, because my heart was really set on the first place I detailed in my last entry. It was more realistic for my family’s needs; not to mention my husband had just purchased a giant national flag for Saudi Arabia that he needed a garage to hang it in. The second place didn’t have a garage.
So the counteroffer was workable, and this put me on a giant high. Boy, highs are nice! But it faded as the days wore on and we are still waiting for the signed contract to come back from the seller. The good news is, we’ve gotten a verbal indication from the listing agent that we are in priority with the bank which is selling it, but they are taking so much time to get the papers back to us that we are losing precious time for things like inspections and appraisals. The closing date is fixed for November 19, and if we don’t make it I have to toss a bean over for each day we go past. Oh, and it still has to pass inspection too etc.
I have been passing the time thinking about the new car my husband has insisted I get once we move and get settled. At the beginning of the year, we started out as a two car family with a minivan and a sedan, both 12 years old. The van was stolen in February, so we have all been sardined into the remaining Hyundai. This is a joke when you have three growing boys, and two growing adults due to lack of self control when chocolate is around. We knew we would get the van replaced at our earliest opportunity, so after we move the first “to do” item is to put together about 5K to do just that. My husband, however, decided that because “I’ve gone through so much, and I deserve it” I should go ahead and get my dream car as well. What is my dream car, you say? It’s a new Dodge Challenger with a chameleon paint job and a vanity tag that reads “BBZNBBZ” (short for bibi’s and bibi’s, a nickname my husband gave me when I was pregnant that he still calls me when excited about something). Granted, the chameleon paint job might not be slapped on her right away (because those things ain’t cheap!), but I WILL get one. I’ve wanted to be a rainbow rider ever since my college days….not because it’s cool but because I’ve always loved hologram stuff.
Honestly, I never thought I would get my dream car. If I thought it were remotely possible, it was imagined to happen after my kids are grown and out of the house and when I have (somehow) all kinds of money to throw around. Turns out, the cars really aren’t that pricey at the base model, plus I get a discount through my employer. I can feel less guilty about it because of that. Yet, my husband is right…I shouldn’t feel guilty to have something nice, because for years all I’ve done is use income that per shariah should have only been used to do whatever I wanted as a support for my family instead. I’ve been giving to them, so giving to myself shouldn’t make me feel bad. It’s really nice to have the support of your husband when things like this come up, though.
In fact, he’s been giving me a lot of support. I think the adaptation to this new reality of the nightmare finally being over for us has helped us both lower our defenses. Between him detailing how he is going to convert our future garage into a giant prayer/entertainment room and browsing yahoo for minivans, he has been staying up late nights with me holding me while I cry over wounds that may never fully heal from my childhood past. He is happy to see my eyes light up when I tell him how fun driving my Challenger will be. He has been watching girl movies with me, buying me avocados as a surprise, and tells me the rest of his life is devoted to helping me experience how special I am. To helping me realize my value when others who should’ve done that didn’t.
I just have to say. There have been plenty of times my husband has been a total ass. There have been as many times I deliberated with the fact that I could have found, and can probably still find (if I happened to be in the position to do so) someone who is not such an ass. Yet, I think the more lovely thing still is to have someone who has been an ass find their fitra and walk in it. This is what I saw in him from the beginning, what I have always seen in him. This is what I have enjoyed 70% of the time, ruing on the 30% of assiness that sabotaged it. I think the most fulfilling thing for me, beyond buying a house and getting a badical car, is having been able to see my husband become who he was always meant to be. There’s nothing like being able to be a part of his life for the past nearly 10 years and see the transformation, and see big growth spurts like the one I’m witnessing now. This is how I believe I know we were made for each other, because the more we reach our potential, the more we fulfill the needs in the other that only we can. Instead of marriage being a ourabora of destruction, it becomes a spiral of healing.