Help! I've fallen, and I can't get up!

I am reading an interesting book -- Getting the Love You Want, by Harville Hendrix, Ph.D. -- which postulates that the majority of people seek out romantic partners who closely resemble the character traits of their parents.  The reason for this, says Hendrix, is that children, as helpless little people, are at the mercy of their parents; so, as adults, we seek to "fix" whatever dysfunction we were subjected to at home.

This theory is not new, of course; Sigmund Freud said about as much in his many writings.  And, even before I heard this theory, I often complained that Big Bren seemed to encompass all the things I hated about my parents -- sometimes he is cold, emotionally unavailable/neglectful and impossible to please.

I was making dinner today when I decided that I absolutely had to have grilled steak.  It was drizzling outside and our wooden deck was dotted with raindrops.  I carefully made my way over to the grill and put the steaks on the fire.  In my eagerness to get back inside, I neglected to dry my feet and rushed onto the marble floor.  I had taken two steps when one foot hit a patch of moisture and I went careening toward the floor.  I tried to break my fall by putting my arm out and instead fell on my hand -- hard.  My knees quickly followed.  The whole house seemed to shake when I finally hit the floor.  I just stayed there, reeling from the pain shooting through my legs and arm.

Then something unprecedented happened:  my husband gently raised me, placed me on his lap and held me to his chest.  With as much tenderness as I have ever seen him exhibit, he rubbed my knees and hand until the pain went away.  Tears rushed to my eyes (again! For those of you keeping count, that's twice in two weeks -- I fear that I am losing my iron maiden edge).  Not so much from the pain -- although I told him it was -- but because when I fell as a child, I was never the recipient of such kindness and love.  I felt about 7 years old again, but instead of being told to get up, brush myself off and not dare cry over something as insignificant as a fall, I was being nurtured and even coddled.

When I felt better, I brushed away the tears and rushed off Big Bren's lap (old habits die hard).  But I was left with the knowledge that each person should be judged on his/her own merits and not based on a projection of what others may have done (or failed to do).  

Thank you, D.