A Little Hush Would Be Nice

I’m one of those people who hates surprise parties. I’m always afraid I’ll spill the beans accidentally if the party is someone else’s. And I’m afraid a surprise party for me will erupt at exactly the wrong moment…like when I forgot to use concealer or comb my hair or when I’m wearing my least favorite outfit for picture-taking. My other fear is that I’ll get so nervous I’ll puke on the party guests.

But surprises aren’t all bad. Case in point.

This week I moaned a little about my unrequited need for solitude. I’m starving for a little nothingness. My husband, bless him, in a heart-melting attempt to empathize and comfort me (as well as recalling the week he’d just spent in the glorious stillness of the Canadian wilderness) said, “Yeah, I remember a poem from my college days that said something like, ‘It’s plumb-full of hush to the brim.’”

If I wore dentures, I would have dropped them.

Not only was the word picture soul-soothing, it made my throat constrict to think that my husband—who normally isn’t the most agile when it comes to emotions and girl stuff—understood me!

What made my heart hit tilt, though, was this: “A poem!? You know a poem!? From college? You remember something from college? None of the rest of us do. Honey, that is so awesome!”

It was one of the most tender moments of our 34-year marriage.

Perhaps the first time he’s ever quoted poetry to me. He saved it in a little pocket in his mind for 34 long years, waiting for the perfect moment to pull it out and surprise me.

Just for that, I made him lasagna for supper.

“I’ve stood in some mighty-mouthed hollow

That’s plumb-full of hush to the brim;

I’ve watched the big, husky sun wallow

In crimson and gold, and grow dim,

Till the moon set the pearly peaks gleaming,

And the stars tumbled out, neck and crop;

And I’ve thought that I surely was dreaming,

With the peace o’ the world piled on top.”

--from “The Spell of the Yukon” by Robert Service