Last night, Lori and I were in bed together, engaged in our second favorite activity –
Surfing the web on our respective iPads.
Our first is sleep.
(When you have kids, sleep trumps everything else.)
I poked her excitedly on the shoulder. “Did you know that the same people who liked To the Wonder also listen to Ravel?” We had watched Terrence Malick’s movie a few days prior.
And by watched, I mean I had sat enraptured while Lori had popped in and out from the kitchen.
“Has anything actually happened yet,” she’d asked, wiping her hands on a dish towel.
“Well, his movies aren’t really action-driven. It’s more of a mood thing…” Malick is a love-him-or-hate-him director. I adore his sweeping visuals and esoteric dialogue; Lori keeps waiting for someone to do something other than stare off-camera while their voice-over plays in hushed tones.
“Isn’t it cool,” I gushed, happy to have discovered a link between my favorite director and favorite composer.
She rolled her eyes.
Yes, she did.
There are days when I wonder how we ever ended up together.
She waved her iPad in front of my face. “Well, I just downloaded the Smithsonian app.”
I stared blankly at her.
“You know, like the museum,” she continued.
I went back to reading about Malick.
Yes, I did.
There are days when she wonders how we ever ended up together.
The differences between us still surprise me, even after all of this time. She unloads the dishwasher and stacks all of the dishes on the counter…then leaves them there. Drives me insane. She also weeds the yard by piling everything on the pathway where it will stay…for days. Never mind the fact that the brown yard bag is 2 inches away.
But she also puts up with my stuff. I am meticulous about laundry – how to prep it, do it, and fold it. Don’t get me started on how to put away towels. When I find a towel that hasn’t been folded “properly”, I refold it and put it back in the closet. I’m also guilty of making not-so-subtle comments about simple things that need to be fixed around the house…every. freaking. day. until she carves time from her busy schedule to replace the smoke detector batteries.
It’s been 21 years, some better than others. A good friend described a relationship like a symphony – sometimes you’re the treble, other times the bass, but as long as you’re both playing from the same sheet of music, you’ll be OK.
Tension is to be loved when it is like a passing note to a beautiful, beautiful chord.
– Sixpence None the Richer
We’ve passed the stage when we wonder whether the disagreement du jour is, in fact, The Last. We know it’s ok to go to bed peeved with one another because sleep – see above – is more important to a relationship than any wee-hour discussion of who was right or wrong.
And we have finally learned that love doesn’t change other people.
It changes you to accept other people for who they are.
This morning, while debating where to put away a coffee cup, I looked over at Lori and saw her stirring oatmeal on the stove. I have seen her do it thousands of times –
And yet –
There it is.
No longer the question
Is this “it”?
But the answer.
Wow. This is it.
To the wonder I go
Humbled and amazed with each passing year.