Sunday, February 11, 2001
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Sunday, February 11, 2001 |
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When wrong is right ... and right is wrong By MARY JANE HOLT
It was three years, Dec. 13, 2000, since we moved into our house and began to turn it into a home. One of the first efforts to start adding finishing touches once all the furniture was in place came with my hanging of the window shades. I believe I told you about that, how empowered I felt holding a drill and doing tool things all by myself. How Daniel gasped when he came home that day. Then how he walked around and inspected the work of my unversed hands and patted me on the shoulder (actually, I think he hugged me). He was so proud, he said. His stroking endured. He has praised all my indoor and outdoor efforts to do some of the chores he has traditionally shouldered over the years. Why, after I rake up a pile of straw, or pull weeds along beside him, you'd think I had gone to the moon to get him a glass of iced tea. In the past, my efforts to help him with "his" chores were pretty much limited to keeping him supplied with iced tea and constantly commenting, praising, appreciating, and stroking until he felt like all the sweat and exertion was more than worth his efforts as he sought to please me. We had a good system. Little was I to know I would blow the whole program with the hanging of the shades. I didn't have a clue as Daniel praised me so profusely on that cold January day that I was being had! Now, the real kicker? I just realized it. Today. Jan. 26, 2001. Three years later. Finally. I realize I got had! You would think, with him giving me a gift of my "own tool set" just this past Christmas, that I would have seen the light. (By the way every woman should have one! It even has a glue gun in it and everything else I need to continue to show my ignorance.) You see, I took down the window shade on the west window of my bedroom this morning to tighten that little flat piece of metal that sticks and if it gets loose the shade won't hold properly when I am letting it back up. That's when I saw it. For 36 long months now my shades have been hanging backwards. He knew it. I KNOW he knew it. Do you suppose he was patronizing me that day with all his "atta girls," or did he just see a good thing coming and respond so as to encourage continued growth? I will admit that I have fretted times over the fact that the shades don't (didn't for three years) hug the window. Like a few weeks ago, Elise was spending the night with me. I had made the mistake of letting her fall asleep around six p.m. and allowing her to sleep for two hours. At 1 a.m. her 2-year-old body and mind and heart was still going strong. When her babbling and pleading for more stories stopped around two in the morning I collapsed while reassuring myself we could sleep late "in the morning," which was actually already upon us. Really, I meant we just would not have to get up at dawn. Wrong. The shades, as they have hung all these three years, have stood out from the window just enough to let in this fine ray of sunlight every morning to remind you the roosters are now up and crowing somewhere. She saw that ray. It wasn't even 6 a.m. and she saw it. "Time to get up, Grangan!" Four hours and she was good as new! Ah, youth. ... Now, today I am recalling the blissful ignorance of my own youth. Was learning to use Daniel's tools a good move? I recall the time I had to change some kind of belt on the car while he lay on the floor with his back in spasm. Back and forth I went from the incapacitated car parked in the driveway to the incapacitated man lying on the living room floor. He talked me through it. Step by step. I felt really tough, but I had the good sense not to pursue such knowledge. I don't know what happened to me the year we went country again, but I've decided that it was a good year. I'm just going to turn all my window shades around now and keep getting acquainted with all the tools in my new tool box as I continue with the never-ending "finishing touches." My husband is a wise man. He may be well on his way to learning that quite often silence truly is golden and a hug says it all! I think I'll keep quiet, too, and just give him a hug this afternoon in silent appreciation for letting our window shades hang backwards for three years.
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