This will be an informative, yet picture-y kind of blog.
Most of you who have read my past blogs are familiar with the man in my life, FJ. Have I called him Franky yet? Because that’s his name. This is him:
We’ve had our share of difficulty. I suspect all people who date do, but for the most part, all is well. We’ve been dating a little over two years now. It’s not a committed thing, but mostly stable. We have a lot of fun together. Laugh a lot. Good times far outweigh the bad.
Let me backtrack a bit here…
Earlier, on Facebook, I posted this:
I found this somewhere, Etsy I believe, and think it’d be perfect to get for Franky – if I could find it in white gold. See, he’s my anchor. He is the most calm person I’ve ever known in my entire life. NOTHING gets him bent out of shape. He has this way of just taking everything with a grain of salt and I admire that about him tremendously. Your friendly blogger here, on the other hand, can and does get freaked out. Little things can make me slightly insane sometimes and well, I don’t always handle them well. Some ridiculously stupid tiny thing can happen and I lose it. I’d look something like this if I were a character from South Park:
If I had an actual picture of me freaking out, I’d share it, but I don’t so this is all you get.
Back to Franky…
He has this amazing way of calming me down. He is the one person on this planet I know, without doubt, I can call or turn to if I need to be grounded so when I heard this song, it just seemed perfect for him because not only does he keep me grounded but he does, most of the time, accept me and all of my weirdness:
And, I’ve got a lot of weirdness going on. I’m terribly flawed. He handles it well. Actually, instead of a necklace he should probably get some kind of award. (Here ya go, babe):
My child, who just came in here and asked me what I was doing, pointed out that he probably should receive a couple of awards simply for not bailing on me when I’ve got PMS. Valid point. Then Em pointed out that since both of us have PMS sometimes at the same time and Franky hasn’t yet tried to runaway, there basically aren’t enough awards for him. Yet another valid point because as she put it, we’re “doubly vicious.” Indeed.
So you now know the story of Franky, the song, and the necklace.
But wait! There’s more! (It’s 3:30 a.m. here so I figure a good infomercial reference was in order).
Some of the charms I found when I was perusing the web, look like this:
Which, I thought was really pretty. So I got curious, wondered the meaning behind it.
I did a bit of research to find out the history of the anchor. It seems they date back to the millennia with the first anchors being made of stone. However, Ancient Greeks used stone, sacks filled with sand, and wooden logs filled with lead to weigh down their boats. Eventually iron was introduced for making anchors and those pointy things? Yea, those are called the teeth of the anchor.
Now, the anchor was apparently quite significant during early Christian times. According to New Advent, the anchor represented or represents the following: The anchor, because of the great importance in navigation, was regarded in ancient times as a symbol of safety. The Christians, therefore, in adopting the anchor as a symbol of hope in future existence, merely gave a new and higher signification to a familiar emblem.
The cross represents faith and the heart, of course, represents love. All three represent the main theological virtues.
Pretty neat, huh?
I can see where, if I sailed the open seas, I’d find some comfort in these symbols and would want to keep them close to remind of what is truly important in this world. Actually, I don’t sail and in fact can’t even swim, but still wouldn’t mind having a charm like the one above.
So the next time you see a man or woman with an anchor tattoo, don’t think of them as cliché’ as I do, you know like this MOM tattoo people get when drunk:
But remember the anchor as a symbol of hope…a reminder to never give up and that no matter how turbulent things might be, it’ll always get better. This is exactly what Franky does for me. And yes, he even makes me feel safe. He’s my dragon, too. But that’s a whole different story for a whole different blog.