Aug 11, 2007

Monday, the 13th, my husband and I celebrate our 13th wedding anniversary.

Thirteen years ago, I don’t think I could comprehend how difficult marriage can be. Raising a family and managing personal and professional lives can be daunting, stressful, and sometimes downright overwhelming. And since neither of us is perfect, we mess up a lot, and cause even greater stress on one another, than we would alone.

But it occurred to me recently, the invisible ways I’ve come to rely on my husband. After thirteen years together, there’s a rhythm of responsibility. Sometimes this rhythm is out of whack and called into question. Sometimes the drum doesn’t beat at all and our whole family falls into a chaotic abyss. But sometimes, the rhythm keeps time in areas I don’t even recognize.

For instance, I never gas up the car.

In fact, besides overnight conference trips, my only service station visits result from my frantic discovery that the dummy light is on. Other than that, my vehicles miraculously get filled on their own.

You see, we trade vehicles, depending upon where I’m going that day. If I’m driving a long distance, I’ll take the vehicle with better gas mileage. If I’m staying close to home, my husband takes that one. The regular trade in vehicles happens often enough, that he fills not only his own vehicle, but mine as well. Since anything “auto” is simply not on my radar, but very much on his, I rely on the dummy light, while he’ll never let the tank get below a quarter.

This may seem like a simple thing. So what? He’s a guy – he fills the tank. But the point is that it never crosses my mind. I don’t think about filling the tank. It just gets done. And I wonder how many other responsibilities are not on my radar, but are on his. I wonder how much he has to do with the fact our family rhythm is very good most of the time.

So, Husband, know that I appreciate the fact my tank’s always full.

Happy anniversary.

I love you.

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