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Geister  |
The Saint  |
St. Rupert, the Husband:
The man I canonized
By PATRICIA J. GEISTER
of TheColumnists.com
Married couples dream up pet names for each other. The tag I use in written form is "St. Rupert the Husband." He used to tease me with "Lambie Puddins" until he saw me cringe. "Dear" is better.
Rupert is an extremely intelligent, well-educated genius of a man. For three years he taught classes in basic electricity, heavy equipment repair and maintenance, and HVAC. That's short for heating, ventilation and air conditioning. He's the model professor-type. Our young Chinese neighbors were so impressed that they bowed to him once each day. For this I have called him "St. Rupert the Educator."
He's not perfect or without human frailties. Arrogance isn't a part of his personality. Frustration surely can be. The reason I dubbed him a saint comes from his habit of pontificating sometimes when he's talking to me. "I know these things," he will say. Typical husbands’ traits, you know.
The first time I opened a cabinet or a drawer to find he had cleaned it out and threw away things, I flipped. You don't throw away a woman's cosmetics. You don't throw away her spices or herbs because the names aren't familiar. That's why some women are sitting on death row today.
"Rupert, why did you throw away my eye shadow containers?"
"There were a lot of the same colors. You don't need three shades of blue. I was only trying to make more room. I try to help."
"Try to help? Okay. Give me the checkbook. That will help me go out and buy new ones."
"What became of that new barbecue spice mix I got down at the Market? Did you move it”?
"Oh, that. Well....it was awfully spicy."
I give you St. Rupert the Disposer. There's no hope for changing that characteristic. I've learned to live with it. When I go out and spend more to replace those missing things, that's his problem.
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his halo when he's St. Rupert the Disposer |
St. Rupert the Romantic brings me flowers in crystal vases and stunning glassware. Gifts, big and small, have moved me to hugs and kisses. Generosity is his nature.
My son Larry, the older of our two, went through a very sad divorce. When he came back to town Rupert handed him money. I had no idea he was going to do this.
"My father gave me a place to stay when I had your same experience. Now it's my turn to help you."
Another time a friend's children were killed in an automobile crash. Rupert was right there to give him comfort and offered to pay a portion of the bills.
He treats my son as well
as Tom, his son. Both get equal attention and assistance. It
comes naturally to St. Rupert the Father.
Newspapers have quoted me when I described him as "My sexy
genius." Saints aren't called sexy. Well, not in public
or when you use your right name.
I was married and divorced twice prior to meeting Rupert. Although those previous men had their good points, Rupert is my first husband. He’s my partner in life. He’s my saint.
© 2002 by Patricia
J. Geister. The illustrations are from IMSI's Master Clips Collection,
1895 Francisco Blvd. E., San Rafael, CA, 94901-5506, USA.
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