Who thinks of you at night? Who thinks of you as they turn out the light? Who sends up a little prayer for you, or gives thanks that you are in their life?
Last night, on my way to bed, I checked on Will and Jenny. I do every night. Seems I can’t go to sleep unless I check on them first. It probably isn’t necessary. I tuck them in every night. But I have to see them before I go off to bed. I remember one night several years ago, I was preoccupied, went to bed, read a bit, turned out the light, and settled in. I was just hitting that sweet spot between wakefulness and snooze, when I bolted upright and realized I hadn’t checked on them. I jumped out of bed to make sure that they were snuggled safely in their beds. Every now and then, Will asks me if I still check on them before I go to bed. I’m not sure I could go to sleep without first checking on them.
I don’t think it is too much to expect that a spouse or partner might think of you before he closes his day. Of course, we are busy and exhausted. There are so many distractions. There is the need to just unwind and not have to fulfill anymore obligations. But at the end of the day, can’t we make time for this person who shares a life with us — struggles and all? Can we share a warm glance that says, “I’m glad you’re here, even if I’m too damn tired to do anything about it?”
I can guess what ran through Mark’s head when I was still living in his house. It was probably a lot like this:
“Damn, when is that woman going to figure out how to fix pork chops the way I like ’em? I wish she’d leave me alone with the remote. God, I hope she tucks the kids in, it’s her job anyway. I wonder if she remembered to take the garbage out? Shouldn’t those toys be picked up by now? I wonder if I have clean socks for tomorrow? Do I have to sit through one more story about the kids? Wonder if I’ll get any tonight?” Continue reading →
I had the “Finals Week Dream” last night. I used to have that one a lot. In the dream, it’s finals week and I’m looking at the printout that shows the schedule for my finals. I’m going over the schedule, thinking about how much time I’ll be able to cram for each test, and I see a final on there that makes me absolutely panic. I keep staring at the class number. My brain starts spiraling.
I did a double-take when I saw him. Is that who I think it is? We were walking toward each other, and I could tell that he was trying to figure out who I was, too. “Hey, Jesse, is that you?” It was him. “Chris, how are you? Haven’t seen you in awhile.”
Winter forgot about us for a couple weeks — long enough for the snow to melt and the birds to enjoy pretending that it might really be over. But, winter made an impressive return today. Apparently it’s wanting to remind us just who the boss really is. I had asked my young cousin if he might be able to split the rest of our wood. I’m hoping it gets us through the rest of the season. Will loves the opportunity to hang with an older guy, strut around with a hatchet in his hand, and have an excuse to drink coffee.
The other day Will and I were riding home from the ski hill with grandpa. The subject of “Blooming where you’re planted” came up. I don’t think I’d find many people to disagree with the premise — be happy where you are planted. I asked grandpa what he thought about the fact that there might be a lot of weeds where we are planted. He responded by saying, “The best way to deal with weeds is to make sure the plant is healthy.” He is right, of course. The healthier the plant, the less chance the weeds have to take over.
I really don’t like grocery shopping. That’s a bit of an understatement. I always go to the same place, so I can put it on auto-pilot. I know where everything is. I look at my list. I get it done. But, the folks that work at the place where I shop are a nice bunch. They are quick to greet and say ‘hello’. There’s a new guy in the produce section. He’s young and enthusiastic, and he’s embracing the store’s obvious policy for placing emphasis on customer service. The first time I saw him, he was working with the apples and oranges, turning them to make them look more appealing. He glanced my way, and with a pleasant smile said, “Hi.” I asked him how he was doing, in that sometimes mindless way that I answer greetings. He chuckled a bit and said, “Livin’ the dream!” I was taken by surprise with that response. It wasn’t the usual, “Fine. How are you?” In fact, I remember thinking, “Really? You dreamed of being the produce guy?”
My aunt sent me an email a few days ago. Seems my brother had been reading my blog, was concerned about a couple posts, didn’t know how to help, and phoned my aunt. I’d been chatting with her more regularly lately, and she put his mind at ease.
