Just a few minutes ago, I'm folding laundry and letting my mind wander.
As I fold one of his t-shirts (the tan Altama t-shirt), I remembered a
conversation we'd had earlier in the week as he was getting ready for
work. He's trying to find a t-shirt in our too-small, overflowing with
stuff bedroom. He pulled out this tan shirt and pulled it on and said
something like "this will do". I lay in bed, coffee in hand, looking at
his thin but muscular body in his jeans and that shirt. In my mind
flashed a picture of him in that same shirt, and similar jeans, at some
sort of family gathering early last summer. Maybe Independence Day. One
of the first times I got to be with my husband at a casual get-together
like that with my family. I had seen my sisters with their husbands,
leaning in for a quick kiss before one went inside to get a drink, or
sitting close to each other on a blanket. While I didn't want to marry
again, I wanted to have someone there with me. And on this day, he was
here. Of course, we were married, but that's not this story.
So that's where my mind goes... to him in this shirt at that thing. It
brings back wonderful memories and good feelings. Plus, I love the way
my husband looks. I don't know how it is I got to be with such a man,
but I do enjoy lookin' at him from time to time. Mix up all that
attraction and happy mushy memories, and take it all back to him getting
dressed last week... got that?
So he says something like "this will do", and after a few seconds,
during which I had the memories and feelings, I reply "I like you in
that shirt".
Now let's be honest - there are plenty of things we women like to see
men in, and vice versa. And a t-shirt and well-filled-out jeans might
just be one of those things. But I'm not talking about that t-shirt that
just barely fits and shows every ripple in his shoulders. And I didn't
mean "I like you in jeans and a tee". I meant I really appreciated
looking at him in that specific "got it free when I ordered something"
otherwise nondescript t-shirt.
I think that's weird. But I also think it must be what love is.
Back to the laundry. Yeah, I know I've taken the long way to get here, but I promise that this is where I'm going. Mostly.
I'm folding Dave's underwear, and as I do, I'm not thinking about how
much I hate folding laundry. I'm thinking about how much I enjoy lying
in bed at the end of the day and watching him take off his jeans and
under that I get to see these underwear. As I'm smoothing a wrinkle, I
think of the number of times my hands have touched these while he was in
them. I place them on the appropriate stack and the next thing I grab
from the pile is that t-shirt. I fold it, as I have folded two others
today. No rush, not just getting through the laundry, but caring for
each item because they belong to him. And not at my own cost in any way.
In fact, I enjoyed doing it. I enjoyed touching his soft white
undershirts and thinking about how almost every night, I lie on his
chest or arm, with my hand on his chest, feeling these shirts. I enjoyed
folding the grey sweatpants that make me think of the few really cold
days we had during his first winter here. The long underwear that he
loves and I hate and that he just might wear through June if the weather
stays as cool as it's been.
My mom used to tell me that if I changed my attitude and just learned to
do work out of love, then I would learn to enjoy it. Of course, my mom
was trying to get a young teenager to clean the living room at the time,
so maybe she was desperate. Plus, sometimes my mom just said crazy
things. All moms do. It's our way.
As a teenager, I seriously just dismissed what she said because I didn't
want to enjoy work. Because that is, when you're a teenager, insane.
And my mom was often coming at it from the Christian example of the
hardworking wife and an altruistic lifestyle. By the time I was a
teenager, I was questioning my beliefs, and those two things were part
of the reason.
I guess it took me until now to be able to reconcile very good advice
with the source from which it came. I don't mean mom - mom's usually a
pretty reliable source. I mean the inherent basis in Christianity.
Sometimes it's still odd for me when I realize that some teaching that
has always irked me because I linked it with Christianity is something
that makes sense. As in this case, it usually makes sense for completely
different reasons, but the outcome is that it works. Which is why those
things have been allowed to continue as religious beliefs - if they
didn't work, they wouldn't continue. Like not eating meat on Friday. Or
during Lent. Or only if you don't have dietary restrictions. When the
position didn't work, they changed it. Doing nice stuff for the people
you love is common sense, but when you've had it taught as religion, and
rejected that religion, it all gets a little bit foggy. Lots of things
do, until you have a clear and defining moment where you realize one way
or another that it makes sense - or why it doesn't. I didn't fold
laundry because I loved the people I was doing it for, I folded laundry
because I had to. It doesn't mean I loved my kids any less, it just
means I hadn't quite gotten it yet. I hadn't gotten that it isn't the
work you enjoy, it's how you choose to see it. Today, I didn't see it as
work, I saw it as something I wanted to do in pursuit of my goal of
making my husband happy. As a bonus, I got to take a minute to sit and
think about happy, funny, sexy, comfy times with him.
I certainly don't mean to encourage the idea of the subservient wife who
gets joy out of doing exactly what her husband wants all the time. Eff
that. Neither he nor I would be impressed with me if that's who I
became. That's not what I'm talking about. I'm also not advocating the
idea that because I'm the wife, I have to do laundry, so I'd better find
some way to enjoy it. Eff that, too. The fact is, he's out grocery
shopping on his day off while I merely fold the laundry. I won that
trade. I think part of what I love in all of this is that we are working
as a team in a way that most teams don't work. Most teams like to give
each person a position and pretty much stick with that. We work with
what we have to do what needs to get done. I like that about us.
I don't know if I'll ever be able to say that I just love doing me some
laundry, but there's nothing wrong with getting joy out of doing
something for someone else. Especially when that joy comes with a little
bit of...um... excitement. Let's just say next time I fold laundry and
let my mind wander, I'm saving the unders for last. Maybe sometime
during the next load's spin cycle.
