Tears Like Diamonds
One of my favorite characters is back for the season finale of Heroes tonight. As I sit here watching the show, I can’t help but think of how much Hiro reminds me of my Hubby.
On the drive to work during a warm September morning last year, Hubby & I heard that song “Her Diamonds” on the radio. I had heard the song off of Rob Thomas’ latest album many times last summer and was looking forward to seeing him in concert later in October.
However there was something about hearing that song on that morning with the sun rising off Lake Michigan that had me truly listening to the lyrics.
“Her Diamonds” talks about a woman who has reached her limits; who has gotten to the point where she doesn’t know what else to do but cry. And because the song is written from a man’s perspective, we get to hear how he deals with the emotions this woman is going through.
It’s amazing how certain songs can elicit the most visceral reactions. “Hero” by Enrique Iglesias is definitely one of those songs that will always be tied to the incredibly enduring love I have for my Hubby. And now, after finally understanding the lyrics behind his song, Rob Thomas’ “Her Diamonds” will, too.
That morning with Hubby sitting in the driver’s seat, I couldn’t help but squeeze the hand that held mine just a little tighter. Because those lyrics that Rob Thomas sings … well, they’re everything I’ve ever imagined my husband’s thoughts and emotions were during the most difficult parts of our Infertility journey.
And Honey? Just so you know, having you in my life holding my hand and heart … that’s all I can ever ask of you when my “diamonds” start falling down.
Eesh. I’m frickin’ exhausted. I woke up this morning with the intent of going into work ahead of the rest of my staff, so I could pick up a big Box O’Joe and sweets from Dunkin’ Donuts for all of us. Yeah, something about almost falling asleep during dinner last night should have clued me in.
Which, when I reflect on my whole “baby-making” years and the minute-by-minute schedule we had to follow, is rather twisted. Especially since I was never ever able to “produce” anything (or rather any ONE) during those active IF treatment years.
For those that aren’t familiar with “Supernatural,” it’s not a show about Carlos Santana’s Grammy Award-winning album. It’s a show about two brothers who basically “hunt” demons and other paranormal figures. The ongoing story arc is that these two brothers, as dedicated as they are to each other, are supposedly destined to destroy one another. Because, and follow along with me here, the younger brother’s soul was “sold” to Lucifer (aka the Devil) before he (Sam) was even born. While the older brother (Dean), who has basically been raised to kill demons his entire life, is supposed to stop Lucifer from taking over Sam’s body in order to take over the world. What gets even more tricky is that Dean has been told that he is supposed to allow the Archangel, Michael, to take over his body in order to stop Lucifer from destroying earth (aka the Apocolypse).
Maybe it’s just the office I’m in, because at the very least … I’ve managed to get the employer group I work closely with to laugh at some of my off-beat humor. That should count for something, right?!
My parents were one of those people. Both came from the Philippines in search of a better life for themselves; a place where they could best make use of their education and talents and share it with the rest of the people in what has become their new “home.” While my Mom spoke fluent English (a primary language taught in Catholic school in the Philippines), my Dad learned it as a second language. And while I can’t *completely* understand what it’s like to learn English as a second language, I can certainly empathize … especially since I’m “once-removed” from being born and raised outside the US.
