If there's one thing I've seen and heard over and over again this past year, it's a smirky little grin, followed by a comment along the lines of "We'll see how that goes once John is here full-time!" It was usually in response to a comment from me regarding my newly-formed eating, writing, meditating, cleaning or organizational habits. It appears their concerns were not unfounded.
Today is Christmas Eve Eve. Lex and John are both here now, and the rest of the gang comes in today. I should be giddy with excitement, thinking of all the fun we are going to have over the next few days. Instead I sit here staring at a chair, and grinding my teeth. The chair is the one John sat in night before last, and it's still sitting out in the middle of the room, where he left it when he shoved away from the table. It blocks the path from the living room to my little morning meditation spot, so I'm faced with a choice: a) shove the chair back under the table for him, as I've been doing since we first married (even though we had a discussion about this very thing the last time he was here, and he knows how much it means to me); b) continue walking all the way around the table just to get to my spot, indefinitely -- or at least until he decides to sit at the other end of the table, and blocks that route as well.
Of course, you realize, don't you, that the chair is not an isolated incident, but instead represents our particular dance, as it has been choreographed over the last 35 years. The subject came up last night as we watched a Christmas movie together. I think Lex asked what the plans were for the next day, and I probably replied with something like "Clean up all Dad's messes before Kathy and Bud get here. They both snorted and rolled their eyes, then John said "We never shoulda let her stay up here alone for so long. Guess it's time to snap her back to reality!"
They say you can't teach an old dog new tricks, but I really don't believe that. I think it just takes a whole lotta patience -- more patience than most humans have. How much do I have? I guess we're about to find out.
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4 comments:
Interesting twist on this subject. Tom and I have similar issues and we approach them differently. He gets upset with me that there are certain things I do repeatedly, or forget to do. I don't do it on purpose to irritate him, I just am thinking of something else at the time. He never notices when I remember only when I foget. There are things he does repeatedly that drive me nuts, but I just do it for him. Close the lid on the soap bottle or put away the newspaper. To me, life is about what we can do for each other. Don't sweat the small stuff or life will throw something real to worry about. Tom's cancer taught me that. Oh he still nags me about closing that drawer and I still forget it. Enjoy what he does well, enjoy how he makes you laugh and just move the chair. Written by the forgetful spouse!
Very good advice, Sew Monkey. I had come to that conclusion on my own, within about 15 minutes of pushing the "publish" button on that post, and the chair has been pushed in. If anything ever happened to John, I'd probably be pulling the chairs out on purpose, just to remind me.
A good post and great comments from both of you. Sent me to my "Favorites" folder of quotations to re-read Charles Swindoll's piece on "Attitude."
I try really hard to be mindful of my attitude when I'm picking up his socks for the eleventy-zillionth time!
http://tinyurl.com/5bldpl
Great quote. I'm not familiar with Mr. Swindoll.
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