My Anchor

If you have a small dog you will understand.  We have two miniature Dachshunds.  They are little dogs who live indoors and do not realize they are dogs at all.  It may disturb some of you to learn that they sleep in our bed.  Harvey invariably positions himself along Stacy’s left side, and he moves back against her if she moves away.  Stella takes the middle between us, but since she has more fur she sometimes chooses to lay at the foot of the bed.

When I travel Stella gets my side to herself and she takes the upper right with Harvey on the lower left and every time Stacy moves they rotate her into a diagonal position.    Before we got Stella we could “spoon”, but now we have to move her first, which hurts her feelings.  Before we got Harvey we were completely free to toss and turn but my wife now has an anchor on her left side, an anchor that moves toward her whenever she moves away. 

She feeds them and walks them and plays with them and takes them to the vet.  And they know who feeds and cares for them.  I love the dogs and I get to come in from a trip to wagging tails.  I am the one who throws the ball, but they know who cares for them.  They know that their lives are now part of her life.  They know that they can trust her and that this is their home because of her.

Caring for dogs is a commitment to be sure but caring for children takes that to another order of magnitude.  When we had children our lives shifted permanently.  We made room in our lives for their lives.  Our plans became their plans and our house became their house.  My wife stopped what she was doing and made room in her life to care for all of their needs.

As a Dad I was shiny and loud, but Mom was the one who made sure they were fed and bathed and cared for.  And they knew who cared for them.  They knew who had made room in her life to make sure they were cared for and loved.  It’s what Mothers do.

When two people get married they make room in their life for the life of another person.  Their plans become our plans and our house becomes their house.  Sometimes that means you take care of another person and sometimes it means you are cared for.  Sometimes it means you face tough times together and sometimes it means you both find yourself on the same vacation at the top of Pike’s Peak.

When we got married I was barely 21 and my wife was just 18.  We had no business getting married and no idea what we were doing.  There was no way we could know what would happen or how successful we would be but we jumped right in anyway. 

My wife made sure I was clothed and fed and taken to the doctor when I was sick, and I got to be shiny and loud.  She made room for me in her life and had to shift into something of a diagonal to make room for me.  Just like the kids and the dogs I can be something of a pain in the butt at times.  I am a lot of work.  Sometimes she gets sick of me.  But she knows I love and trust her and I know that she loves me and I know she will be there to keep my back warm.

My wife has two passions.  The first is food.  Anyone who has ever been here for Thanksgiving will understand how lucky I am to live here.  She is an awesome cook and she can talk to my daughter for hours about cooking and recipes.   Our TV stays stuck on the Food Network as I just get fatter but happily so.

Food is a huge part of our culture and an important part of family life.  When the kids were young we had dinner at the table and we ate together.  Holiday traditions often involve loved ones visiting and food is a part of that tradition.  But pancakes for your Grandson on a random Sunday morning can be just as important in showing love to your family.  Sometimes when a young man comes in from playing hard to a nice bowl of soup and cold glass of milk more is nourished than simple nutrition.

As important as food is it remains an avocation.  My wife’s other passion is also her life’s work, which is caring for children.  She works with preschool special education kids for our school district.  Although I love children I know  I do not have the patience for this type of work.  Children are the best part of our lives but every parent knows they can be a challenge at times.

When my wife complains about work it is either about the adults or the bureaucracy.  She would rather interact with a child than fill out a form. She is excited about the interactions between humans but uninspired by forms or quotas. 

We often use the word Success as a noun to refer to specific human beings, and I think that is wrong.  Success refers to the attainment of a specific goal, and is inappropriate as a label for humans.  Goals need to be specific and intentional.  You can succeed at your goal of running a half marathon or paying off your home mortgage.  If you do so you have succeeded.  But just having money or fame or a position does not make one a success unless that was your specific goal.

People who change diapers and wipe noses and read books and sing songs with children are not paid very much for their services.  Neither are those who prepare and serve food, or people who walk dogs or vacuum or wash dishes or make beds or any of the hundreds of things that have to be done daily for life to run smoothly.

Stacy does not have a PhD or the title of superintendent or CEO or Senator.  We do not have Grammies or Oscars for regular people.  She is not elected and there are no ads asking you to support her.  But she is like so many of you that live your lives outside the limelight.  You are not the shiny or the loud ones.  You are the ones who walk the dogs and read to the kids and wash the dishes.

My wife is not perfect, and neither am I.  Like the dogs I am barely potty trained and sometimes I make mistakes.  Our family is not perfect, and neither is our house.  We have some zeros in our 401k but life is still a struggle because someone still has to take Harvey out at 3 am.  When I close my eyes a little tighter and pretend to be fast asleep someone gets up and takes him out anyway.  Stacy does it because she loves him, and she loves me, despite the fact that I am sometimes not worthy of that love.

My wife is not the shiny and loud one.  She has a strong faith but not a showy one.  Her faith is evident in the quiet time she spends reading verses in the morning and the persistent way that she pursues her faith but nobody (mostly) ever sees it.

Thirty five years ago she said yes to carving out a huge hole in her life and inserting my life into it. She said yes, and thirty five years later she is still here, and we have spent the last twenty years in the same house raising our kids and waiting for grandkids to spoil.

Happy birthday to the rock in my life.  Happy birthday to my anchor.  Happy Birthday to my silent worker who gets the work done with little recognition.  Thank you for filling the hole in my life and thank you for switching me from lengthwise to diagonal.  Oh, and Harvey thanks you too. (Tail wag)