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GESENHUES: Marriage and other difficult situations
One day I will write a memoir about life with my husband titled, “There's No Such Thing as a Good Marriage, Only a Long One.”
I write that with my tongue in my cheek hiding behind a crooked smile.
My husband and I have been in (and out of) love for many years. Our good days out number the days when I want to throw him off the roof, so I consider us good for now.
With Valentines Day right around the corner and a family member newly engaged, marriage has been on my mind — not so much my marriage, but just the institution of it.
It's a funny thing, this commitment we make. My husband and I agreed to our commitment long before we had any right or self awareness to walk down the aisle. We met at a bar throwing darts (it just occurred to me how metaphorical those darts were). I was three months out of college and he was three weeks out of the Marine Corps. I remember my first words to him, “So, you were in the Marines?” (I was impressed with that and still am.)
We met on a Wednesday night at Jack's Pool Hall. It was Sept. 20, 1995. I remember the date because we were married exactly one year later on Sept. 20, 1996.
Since being married, we have been separated once; we have bought four houses; we have had two kids. We have fought over money, over who does more, and who left the oven on (it was me). I have rolled my eyes more times than the earth has rolled on its axis; and he has walked out of so many rooms while I was still talking that I have finally stopped following him.
Sometimes there is yelling. And every now and again there are irrational outbursts. One time, I threw a cheeseburger at him just before a two-hour drive to Indianapolis. We went the entire car ride without either of us saying one word to each other. There was also a fight many years ago about food — he had eaten some leftovers that I had wanted to take for lunch. The argument led to every food container in our refrigerator being labeled with one of our names in permanent marker — my husband's sarcastic way of making sure we were both perfectly clear on what he was allowed to eat. For weeks after that, guests would ask why my husband's name was written across all the condiment bottles.
It sounds horrific, right?
But it's not at all. It's marriage. At least, it is our marriage.
Just last night at dinner we were laughing about the condiment labeling. We laugh about many of our past fights. Sometimes we laugh in the middle of a new fight. Fortunately, we have outgrown most of our fights (having kids helped us prioritize such disagreements).
What makes my marriage worth it to me is the comfort we share with one another. No matter what changes or gets altered in my external world, I know I can count on him to be waiting for me in our kitchen, leaning against our cabinets, asking me what I want for dinner.
I can trust him to take care of the things I don't pay attention to. Leaking shower stalls, burnt out light bulbs, overly loud washing machines, he fixes the things that I don't even realize are broken. He reminds me what is important and does his best to keep me from getting overwhelmed (a state of being that I fall into often and usually in the most unfortunate martyrdom-like way…it's really one of my nastier habits now that I don't smoke anymore).
Right now, while I type this, I can hear him upstairs giving our kids a bath. He will wash our daughter's hair and put our son in his nighttime diaper and pajamas. He will straighten up the kitchen putting away leftovers and loading the dishwasher. He does all this so that I can write. He won't yell down the stairs asking me when I'm going to be finished or if I can take a break to help him.
He will do all the evening chores and then, when I come up from my office, he will ask me if there is anything on TV I want to watch…proving why my marriage is worth every second. The good seconds, the seconds that turn into minutes of laughter, the seconds that turn into hours of annoyance, they will all be worth it just with the simple gesture of handing over the remote control.
Amy Gesenhues is a freelance writer who lives in Floyd County. You can read her daily commentaries at www.AmyWroteIt.Wordpress.com. E-mail her directly at amy@amywroteit.com.
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