A Weekend Getaway

Lately I've been having the most fun remembering the funny or quirky parts of our relationship. While talking to a friend, I was reminded of a funny story that actually took place in February...4 years ago. It's a story that is funnier if Ben and I tell it together. Here's the long version!

It was the first weekend in February of 2006. When I came home from work Ben asked if I wanted to go to a cabin in Duchesne, UT, with a group of his friends. I didn't really know anyone who would be there, but he told me that Nate and Laura were going too, so I reluctantly agreed. Ben was really excited. He packed some of his guns just in case there would be a chance to use them.

When we got there, I was taken aback by how open and spacious the cabin was. That evening was uneventful. Ben and I ended up going to bed somewhat early.

The next morning, there wasn't a lot to do. All the guys started looking for targets to shoot at (I.E. apples, soda cans-empty or full, paper...anything they could find). Everything that was found was either perched, or hung from a tall fence across the field.

When we were first married, Ben had given me one of his 22 caliber riffles. It was my favorite. I liked this gun best, mainly because it had a good spotting scope. Whenever I used it, I could fool people into thinking that I had excellent marksmanship.

Laura and I were the only girls out there shooting with Ben and Nate's friends. She was making me look bad, soI decided to use the 22 cal to showcase my faux skills. I remember a few of the guys there acting super impressed with how I had hit the various items. Ha!
(Thank you, spotting scope! We fooled them all!)

With all the shooting going on, they would have to stop periodically and go looking for new targets. Among all of the cans, clay pigeons, and produce, someone had found a fake duck. So random! We assumed that it was one of the pricey-looking, rustic decorations that had been inside the cabin. They hung it from the fence, amidst everything else.

When shooting began again, I found myself aiming for this duck a lot. It was so realistic looking. Whoever had bought it, must have spent a lot of money on it. But with how immaculate the cabin was, it only made sense. People with excessive money sometimes spend it on pretentious things...

At first I tried to shoot it off the fence, but that thing wasn't going anywhere. Then I tried to shoot it's head off...

(I know! I know! That's really out of character for me. But what was I to do? We were in the middle on nowhere, at a cabin with guns as one of the only sources of entertainment. Don't judge!)

It didn't take long before all other targets were down and everyone else was shooting at the duck too. Ben even offered to help me with decapitation. After a good half hour of shooting, the duck was a mere shadow of it's former self....riddled with holes and unrecognizable. That head never did come off, and it annoyed everyone.

We all went out to the fence to clean up the mess that had been made. I looked over and noticed three of Nate's friends burning what was left of the duck. I was so confused. Hadn't they outgrown that adolescent pyromaniac phase?? Why were they going to the effort??

It was then...that I was informed....that this duck...was in fact...REAL.

I just stood there.
Shocked.

Half the people there had, like me, assumed that they were shooting at a pretentious cabin ornament.

But, no.

This duck had once been alive...
(Most likely someone's forgotten hunting trophy.)

They were burning it for 2 reasons...

1. They thought cremation would be the most respectful option for a proper burial.
2. To eliminate all evidence of the duck & shooting thereof, on the off chance someone ever came looking for their trophy.
   

What was once just an innocent day of target practice, suddenly felt more like a crime scene.
It was like hunting and stealing at the same time.
I felt dirty.

What had I done?
Me? The little blonde girl from Boston?
What had I become?!

Ben and I laughed almost the entire drive home, and every single time we told the story. The whole scenario was so random. He didn't know I had it in me.

My inner redneck had emerged.

But alas, we were in little, forgotten Duchesne, UT...
And what happens in Duchesne, stays in Duchesne.
(Until now...)

Movie Night

Some of my favorite memories with Ben are when he was laughing hysterically. Whenever I think of his laugh and how much I adore it, one memory always sticks out in my mind...

Back in November 2007, we went on a date & saw this movie...

We rarely ever went to see movies in the theater. Rentals were always easier, cheaper, and less disappointing if we didn't enjoy them.

I'm not sure that I can fully express how comical and clever this movie was to us. And as far as I know, we liked it more than any of our other friends who saw it.

This was in part because we both felt that we could relate to the story on some level. If Ben were ever to be widowed, I could picture him acting and reacting similarly to the main character (and he didn't disagree).

We could picture Jocelyn in 14 years--equally as high strung, intense, and hormonal as the middle daughter. Such a scary, yet funny thought!
"YOU ARE A MURDERER OF LOVE!!"

We both laughed nearly the entire time. But Ben laughed more than I had seen him laugh in months. There were several instances when he had to cover his mouth in an effort to be considerate to the people around us. He later called it, "Knee-slapping-while-trying-to-cover-your-mouth-and-not-fall-out-of-your-chair...funny." Yes, he liked it that much.

He bought the movie the day it came out on DVD. It became our favorite movie to watch together. Seven days before everything happened, he held it up and said, "We should watch this together again."

Oh, how I wish we had made the time...

My half-hearted apologies to anyone who decides to see this movie because of my post, and gets disappointed. I guess it's a "Ben and Ginny thing." You wouldn't understand!

6 Years Ago, Today

I had to keep a daily journal for a class that semester. I could recount all of the day's activities, but that might be boring to most.

I will say...
It was a frigid Saturday.

Wedding announcement photos were taken.
It was Ben's idea...for me to wear pink and him to wear grey.
We didn't want to be too "matchy-matchy."

I love that he always thought of the little details.

Thank You, Emily!

Emily was the flake Ben dated right before he met me.

I don't know much of anything about her.
I never even asked what she looked like.

I do know that she and Ben dated casually for maybe two months leading up to Christmas. When Ben gave her a Christmas gift, she got angry at him---not because of the gift, but because he got her something after she had told him not to.
Needless to say, Ben gave up on that mess.

After we decided to be serious, I remember this girl calling him during the summer. He never answered, but she did make a few attempts. He'd let me listen to the voice-mails, and we would both laugh.
Too little, and way too late.

All throughout the time we dated, I remember feeling baffled. I could not understand why I was the first girl to see what an amazing person Ben was. He treated me like pure gold, and made me feel like the luckiest girl alive. How could any girl in her right mind not love that??
The only reasonable conclusion I could come to was....Emily, along with ever other girl he dated before me, was crazy.

But honestly, I am so glad that she was!
So I would like to thank this Emily publicly, where ever and whoever she is....

Dear Emily,
Thank you for for your assumed temporary lapse in judgment.
It was the best decision you made in my life.
Thank you for giving up on Ben, so that I could give him a chance.
Thank you for treating Ben poorly, so that I could treat him better.
Thank you for failing to see his selflessness, sincerity, devotion, and enduring sweetness, so that I could see each trait perfectly.
Thank you for stepping aside, so that this cute boy could be, Mine forever.


Very Sincerely,

3 Years Ago

In February of 2007, I was in my third trimester with Jocelyn. I was working 50 hours a week while Ben was preparing for his CFI check-ride. We were busy all the time, and I was starting to feel ragged from working so much.

I came home one day, after working 10 hours, and collapsed on the couch. Ben propped my feet up and sat next to me. He pointed out a loose string on the tank top I was wearing. When I pulled the string the hem and straps came completely unraveled. Instantly I was in tears!

Me: "I'm so sick of being FAT!!"
Ben: "Oh, Ginny you're only big in your tummy."
Me: "No! I'm fat everywhere, and now all my clothes are falling apart!"
Ben: "We'll get you new clothes."
Me: "No! What's the point?! I only have a few weeks left now! And I'm just too tired to go shopping! My back hurts so bad! Everything hurts all the time!"
Ben: "Your Benny is going to fix this. I'll get clothes for you. What size are you?"
Me: "Size 'Huge!' Size 'Are you having twins?!' Size 'Are you overdue?!"
Ben: "Okay. I'm going to guess...Small. I'll be right back! Benny will make it all better."

He had gone to Target, and when he came back he had a bag full of maternity clothes. There were shirts, tank tops, and pants. I was surprised at the effort he went to. He had put a lot of thought into it, and got things that I wouldn't mind wearing.

In the following weeks I was so grateful to him. I couldn't thank him enough. And he was pretty proud of himself. He'd smile and complement me on how cute I looked in the new clothes. THEN....I eventually got so big that only his t-shirts would fit... But he was always more than happy to help.

I look back at all of the things Ben did to take care of me, (pregnant or not) and I am overwhelmed with gratitude to him and for him.

Advice Recieved

Flashback: 21 May 2004

Right before the ceremony, the sealer gave us some general advice. While those few minutes are a blur in my memory, I have always clearly remembered when he said, "Develop the habit of a soft answer."

This can be interpreted in a variety of ways. To me, it was in reference to our moments of disagreement and potential arguing. A soft answer can so often seem like the more difficult and unnatural option to take. In retrospect, it is something I wish I practiced more readily.

Yesterday, a thought occurred to me. Although this was a recommendation given to Ben and me for our family, I can still use it in all of my dealings with others. Almost any point can be made when it is said gently, tactfully, and with good intention.

I am officially resolving to develop the habit of a soft answer.

& hearts ;

With Valentine's Day just around the corner, I'm constantly reminded of all the sweet little things Ben did daily; the things that mean so much and are missed most.

Whenever we sat quietly together, or even if we were in a noisy crowded room, Ben would take the palm of my hand. With his index finger he would draw the shape of heart, then tap my palm three times and say, "Love."

I actually started this when we were engaged, but he kept it going. It became our quiet way of saying "I love you."

I can't wait for the day when he can do this again...