Or Lucinda J. Kinsinger.
Or Lucinda Miller-Kinsinger.
Or just Luci.
I prefer that, mostly, to my friends.
When you change a name you change an identity, and when you change an identity, you change a life. You have surreal moments, like Is this really me? The skin is mine, but the moments are not.
That is a preacher up there, you think. But I don’t think it’s my preacher. This is a wedding, but I don’t think it’s mine. A house I don’t own. A life I don’t live in.
For a long time you cannot write, because you live in a strange house, and a strange man will read your writing. But then you write, finally, and it’s okay. The words are still there, just inside your fingertips, expressing all the things you never knew you thought.
There are other moments, too. The moment you display a depression-glass plate from one great grandmother and a candy bowl from another and salt and pepper shakers rescued from the trashcan of the grandma-up-the-road and experience intense feelings of cleverness and domesticity.
You WhatsApp a picture to your family. “I love being a housewife!” you say. And it is true. You love the easy fixing of meals (easy because there are few people, few cooking pots, few ingredients) in a quiet house. You love the drops of condensation that collect on the kitchen window right next to the lovebird clock. The shining glass dishes displayed in a corner cabinet of the kitchen. The tea kettle that reminds you of home and the birds perched, bright and sprightly, on the back of the stove.
You love unpacking from their boxes the Childcraft and Uncle Arthur’s Bedtime Stories and CLP readers, the Winnie the Pooh compilation and the Steven Kellog Treasury and an entire set of the adventures of Angelina Ballerina–beautiful books that always before remained tucked tight in boxes, packed away in forgotten corners of your life. There will be children to read these books, you think. You will get children in this house somehow, no matter what. If not your own, the neighbors’.
There are moments of relationship. Moments still, sometimes, when you look at him like he is a foreign being and wonder who he is and what he is thinking. But other moments–like the time you are sad for a reason you cannot explain, and he sits on the couch and holds you instead of going out to work–moments when you think, He is all I have now…instead of my mom, my dad, my baby sister, my big little brother…he is all I have. I think it will be enough. Moments when he pulls together snacks for Sunday supper and writes “I Love You” with M&Ms on the table, and you think, He does love me. He really does. He’s said this often enough, and you believe it is true–but you wonder how many months, how many years, it will be before you know it deep, way down in the marrow of your bones, like you know childhood and old socks and the lines and smiles of the face that birthed you.
There are moments of excitement. Sitting beside him at the table when he says you should work on your orientation class because January will be here soon and you think how utterly privileged you are to be young and just married to a husband who thinks college more important than housework. The surprise of walking across a wide-open field, monarch supreme of all that you see, of squirming under a wire fence and standing alone among trees, clouds furled through heavens in shades of pink and gray. It’s like home, you think. And you know that you would have made a different plan for your life–one that involved cities and foreign places–but God, who wanted you to be happy, placed you in the country on a farm.
And now, a note to you, my friends and blog readers: now that my fingers are working again, I will write more about this new life of mine. Someday soon I will write more about our wedding and post pictures. Honeymoons are private and intended for two…but weddings…the whole world can hear about a wedding. They are meant to be shared.
***
Feature photo at the top by Kayla Weaver.
Wow! Well written! Wonderful that he is supportive of your college course! Congratulations!
Beautifully written! I’m so happy that God chose this for you, and that you feel like you’re home! ❤️
Oh Lucinda I love reading this. Your wedding picture is beautiful and you two make a cute couple. I’m going to have to come to your house and check out some of your books.
Will my library card from Arizona work?😁
Absolutely, Regina. I am generous about loans. :)
Lucy, it’s been awhile sense we first met and I learned that you had a passion for writing, it’s been an exciting journey for me to learn about you threw your writting. Where have you moved to or would you rather not give the state out, where ever I wish all the happiness the world has to offer.
Thank you so much, Carol. And I don’t at all mind giving the state out, even the town. My new home is in Oakland, MD. Stop by for a visit sometime. :)
Glad you are writing again :) I remember when I got married 53 yrs ago and my name changed from Bertha Mae Sauder to Mrs. Marlin Metzler….. it was something different and I needed to get use to seeing it “on letter”s that came to AL from my family in Pa. I had moved 1000 miles away from my family & friends but I had been in B-Ham AL for two years in V.S. so the distance was O.K.
My husband’s family lived about 4 hr drive North of our first home so for holidays.
We married in 1966 and 4 yrs later we had two girls (both born in Dec.) and then on Dec. 25 of 1970 we had a boy. Then 2 yrs later another girl…..lots of adjustments in a very short time. We had a wonderful church family and community people who knew my husbands family for many years. My husband move South in 1949 with his parents and brothers……..he is one of 5 boys. The oldest boy John Metzler stayed in Pa to finish school at Lancaster Mennonite School. They moved South to begin mission work in Brewton, AL. My husband was only 2 yrs old….
A very interesting story is ….on our honeymoon we went to Niagara Falls and when we crossed over the USA boarder to Canada the man at the border asked my husband where he was born and he said AL…..when he asked me I said PA. As we traveled away from that man I looked at my husband and said “I thought you said you were two years old when you moved to AL” He said…that is correct but I feel like I was born in AL since I don’t remember anything about PA. Being married gave him some adjustments also :)
Sorry this got so long.
Bertha Metzler
P..S. I see you have a gas stove in the kitchen just like we have. Did your husband live in this house for a while before you were married?? .
Good to hear from you, Bertha! And to hear your early experiences. The house we are living in is my husband’s childhood home, but it was empty, used only as a guest house while we were dating. He did rent it out some prior to that. He and his parents were living in a trailer house on the same property (where they still live), so it’s an easy matter for him to move over his things. :)
Wonderful enjoy,cause it only gets better!
Oh Luci, this is a wonderful reflection about the newness of it all! I’m so glad you have found your words.
Thank you for sharing these thoughts with us. I think I found the name change the biggest adjustment.when I got married, I felt like an imposter for a while :) I’m so happy for you xo
I love reading your blog. I always look forward to the next post. You have a true gift for writing. The words flow so effortlessly and are a joy to read.
I love your house and it’s oh so neat and tidy. The clock and kettle are neat.
Congratulations to you and Ivan. I think you are very lucky to find such a wonderful man.
God bless ☺
Yes I am blessed. :) Thank you. And I will tell you a secret: the house is not oh so neat and tidy…I am still unpacking boxes and rearranging furniture. I just photographed the neat parts.
Oh Luci, your refreshingly honest words are like cool water to a thirsty soul. I will eagerly await your coming posts. May God bless you as you bless others with your gift of words. Such a beautiful gift, many are the times I burst into laughter because of your way with words and with life. My life is made a little brighter by you allowing me to peek into yours.
And after 20 years, you will still have the feeling occasionally that you don’t know who he is and what he is thinking. But you will know that you have uncovered so much greatness along the way, and look forward to more learning!! (voice of experience!) -Wendy Weaver
I really enjoy your unique way of description. Writing well is one thing, but writing uniquely is another.
Thank you, Shirley.