A few years ago, my college friends and I were together for a gathering when one of them shared some exciting news.
“You guys! I think I’m finally in love! I’m so happy I can’t even eat. He’s all I think about. I hope this feeling never, ever goes away. It won’t, will it?”
The rest of us (who had been married for several years and had young children) looked at each other and burst out laughing (not before serving ourselves another piece of cheesecake).
“Oh you’ll still think of him. You’ll think of smothering him with a pillow when he snores and you can’t sleep.”
I joke, but when I came across this article today (see link below), I realized that I sometimes take my husband for granted. It’s not that I don’t love him; I love him very much. He’s thoughtful, loving, handsome, and fun to be around. But with the day-to-day stress of raising two special children, I’m too busy counting prescription pills to count the ways I love him. In fact, some days I’m so stressed I barely even notice him.
“Gina your husband is a very handsome man.”
“Thank you. I think so too. I really fell for his brown eyes.”
“Ah, Gene, aren’t his eyes blue?”
Sometimes, I even forget all the wonderful things he does for me — like the fact that in nearly 20 years of marriage, I’ve never had to wash a kitchen floor.
“Mike, let me wash the floor. I’m perfectly capable of doing it.”
“OK, but you do know that you’re mopping with mouthwash?”
Or that he’s always willing to rescue me and my neighbor when we get into trouble. “All right Thelma and Louise, stay at the bar. I’ll come pick you up.”
I don’t even appreciate that he’s constantly complimenting me. “Gene, I really like your hair like that? What did you do?”
“I combed it.”
Yeah, I’m pretty embarrassed to admit that instead of focusing on all the positive things he does for me, I often focus on the negative.”
“You should get home from work sooner!”
“You were the one who wanted kids. I was content playing golf.”
“You have it so easy, getting up and going to work all day in your high pressure job.”
“You don’t know how lucky you have it. You can go to the Men’s room alone.”
And sometimes when he’s actually looking to spend time alone with me, I don’t even pick up the signals.
“Come on Gene, let’s take a walk together to the mailbox.”
So, in 2011, I’m vowing to spend more time thinking of the man who asked me to marry him because.. well.. he’s wonderful…and…more importantly, he’s the only who asked.