Is it a big deal?

I read a blog once that was written by a woman who had lost her husband.  In the blog she talked about how we make a big deal out of things that aren't important.  In her blog she talked about how her husband never seemed to be able to find the laundry basket and left his clothes laying all over the floor.  (It really seems to be a trait with most anyone with a Y chromosome.  I think it is one of those genetic traits connected to alleles or some other sciency words.)  She always had to pick them up and would get frustrated.  It would result in some kind of argument and then she lost her husband to a terminal illness.  In the blog she said she would get anything to come home and find those clothes on the floor as it would mean she has her husband back. 

At the time that I read that blog, I was just coming out of a relationship with a man who literally did nothing to help me around the house or the farm.  While he had a large expensive brush trimmer/weed eater that he could use, I was left to use an antique two handled scythe to keep weeds off of the electric fence because he could just never get to that job.  I folded every load of laundry.  Fed every animal.  Vacuumed every carpet.  You get the picture.  I had then entered into a relationship with someone who shortly after we moved in together became "debilitated" (the legitimacy of that claim is still up for grabs) and basically free loaded on my couch for two years.  Needless to say that I read that blog with tinted glasses, and not the rose colored kind.  I may have written even a blog about it way back then. I know that my gut reaction was that if your man or woman truly loved you, they wouldn't go around being careless and creating more work for you.

Enter Tim.  Tim had a very different style of housekeeping than I did.  A confirmed bachelor for many years, his style was more, "leave it where you're done with it and look for it later" where I am a built in/well trained "a place for everything and everything in its place" kind of person.  Tim tried very hard to bring his standards of cleanliness up within shooting distance of mine.  I applaud his (and his kids') efforts to do a complete 180 turnaround on how they lived in their home.  What a job it was to go from dropping your bags and coats by the door, kicking off your shoes wherever, leaving dirty laundry everywhere, dishes on the counter, clean laundry piled on couches, toys just thrown in a toy room, to spotless living.  There was definitely a learning curve for everyone.  My kids and I had to learn to tolerate a little mess and they had to learn that closets are for coats and shoes, laundry gets folded and put away and dishes get washed after we eat.  And we all did it and survived to be where we are today.  However, there was something that I have learned in the last couple of years.

Tim is never going to worry about where he hangs his coat, kicks off his shoes or how much laundry is laying on the floor.  He just isn't.  And that's okay.  It's okay that he hangs his coat on the railing instead of the coat rack by the door.  It's okay that sometimes I have to pick up a couple days worth of laundry off the floor or his dresser.  It's okay that I am forever putting his shoes back on the shoe rack.  I love how some days when he sees that I am watching him throw clothes on the floor "for later" that he grins his silly grin and says, "just love me".  It's easy for me to respond, "I do" because it really isn't a big deal.  It isn't a big deal for me to move his coat (or leave it where it is - but let's be honest.  I'm Monica from Friends, I need to move it.)  It takes me seconds to grab his shoes and throw them on the rack once a week.  I don't mind hanging up his clothes again or better yet, washing them so I know they are up to my standards of clean.  I don't mind because I know there are a million little things that he does for me.

Like how he literally sneaks out in the morning at 4:00 am when he goes to milk so that I can sleep a little longer.  Or how he washes my car and makes sure he fills it up with gas so I don't have to.  How he empties the dishwasher or folds the clothes before I can even notice the dryer and dishwasher are done.  How he helps with chores for horses he never rides or makes time to help me roll a new round bale in for the ponies.  There are the times that I get in my car and find a little treat waiting for me.  Or come home to a card with some beautiful message "just because".  There are a million different ways that Tim shows me that he loves me and makes me feel like one of the most important people in his world.  It is totally reasonable and fair that I can do some little things for him (especially since they revolve around my need to have everything in its place).

I don't take for granted the clothes on the floor/coat on the railing.  Those visual reminders remind me that I have a loving husband who works incredibly hard, some days from 4:00 am to 9:00 pm.  They remind me that he would do anything for our kids or for me.  They remind me that I have someone in my life who loves me enough to be in a hurry to get in the door or changed out of work clothes so that he can spend time with me.  I don't mind.  So even though when he saw me take a picture of his coat on the railing for the blog today, and even though he knew I was going to write a blog about him and his coat, I hope he isn't embarrassed when I say that the focus of this blog isn't how it drives me crazy.  It's one of the little things that I'm growing to love about him and will never take for granted.  As long as that coat is hanging on the railing, there is an amazing, loving, generous man whose arms will fill it again soon.