It’s the title of a song by The Doobie Brothers. It might be the title of other things as well. But it was listening to The Doobie Brothers’ song that got me to thinking.
It created a feeling in me that is hard to describe. It was a mixture of joy (for having such a wonderful man in my life) and remorse (for all the strife I have put him through) and love (for the guy who has stood steadfastly by me for the last 51 years) and I don’t know what else. It was a very complex feeling.
Sometimes we married women expect a lot of our husbands. Sometimes we feel that they can do anything … that they should be able to do anything. Well, I do anyway. I’d be willing to bet others do too.
But the truth is, our men are muddling through this life just like we are. Doing the best they can. They don’t always know what they are doing either.
I watch him struggle with a decision. I watch him as he figures out what to do with a light fixture that doesn’t have a ground. I watch him mow the lawn with single-minded purpose. I see how his tongue flicks out of his mouth now and then when he is eating something he finds particularly yummy. I have anxiety for him when he braves getting high up on a ladder to take down the shutters that I want to paint … and then put them back once I’ve painted them. I watch him overcome all his fears so that I can have what I want in any number of ways.
I love my husband for trying to be extraordinary sometimes. But I love him most for his ordinariness.