Last night I lied down in my bed and started coughing. I tried to suppress it, but the cough was relentless. I thought about getting up to take a drink but I was too tired, just then, my husband who had had a more exhausting day then myself jumped out of bed, got me a tall glass of water, and asked if I needed anything else.
I fell asleep thinking about how amazing he was. I thought of how talented he is. Most evenings after dinner he plays the piano while our kids and I dance around the living room. His repertoire consists of everything from the Wiggles to Suede plus a plethora of original songs he has written for our children. On summer evenings our neighbours will literally gather on the porch next door to our house and listen to him playing. Monday nights are extra special, that’s the night he sits with each of our three children individually and teaches them private piano lessons.
During the daytime as I’m working around the house I often find thank you notes that have been given to him by his high school students and their parents telling him he is the only math teacher that has been able to effectively teach them. Besides that, he does hours of volunteer work at our church, counselling teens and parents alike. Yes, I fell asleep last night feeling like a very lucky woman.
This morning I woke up to an ogre who, upon my bid of Good Morning, smugly replied “Your favourite cereal is gone- I fed it to the kids.” Then he swiftly opened the cutlery drawer and slid spoons across the table to each of the kids, the spoons slammed into their bowls with one ricocheting to the floor. “Is something wrong?” I questioned. “No! Why?”… “You’re kind of throwing things around” I replied- which he defensively denied while practically slamming the dog’s tail in the door as he let her out.
When he peeked into the lunch bag I had packed for him he grumbled that I don’t put anything good in his lunch anymore. I looked at the clock to see if he was running late, which he wasn’t, but still, he left for work in a whirlwind- leaving me wondering what just happened. I spent most of the morning retracing steps in my mind trying to figure out what could have happened to the Adonis that I slept with last night. Would I have been better off slipping out silently this morning before he awoke, leaving a mysterious note on the nightstand “Thanks for last night” with my phone number on it?
What is this crazy thing called marriage anyway? Just then my thoughts turned to an aged friend of mine who upon her 50th marriage anniversary was asked the secret to a long and happy marriage. I will never forget her simply sublime answer. “Over the years,” she said, “We have fallen in and out of love with each other a thousand times. Luckily we never fell out of love with each other at the same time.”
So today it’s my turn to be kind and patient and in love when we fall asleep, not knowing what the morning will bring. Secure in the knowledge that tomorrow this wonderfully imperfect guy will still be there for me, even if I wake up a witch.
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