A Chair Choice
Dinner was finished and conversation was floating around the table. This had been my first big meal since the accident, and it felt good to serve; to actually do something once again for my whole family, parents included. I left the cleanup to sit and rest for a while since my foot was beginning to ache. I knew the dishes could wait.
All the adults had moved to comfortable seating in the family room. and now my husband came to join us with his coffee in hand. He surveyed the room to find that the only seat left was a small wooden chair on the far side of the room. To reach it, he would have to crawl over a sea of legs.
"Why don't you grab a kitchen chair and sit here?" I suggested.
"But I was going over there." He looked at the chair by the window.
"But this will be easier."
"No it won't. I'll have to carry it."
And so went our dialogue until he sat down with the kitchen chair, saying something about doing it because he loved me. I suddenly heard my voice from his perspective, realizing that in this very simple choice, I was not respecting his ideas and wishes. I was, with my words, implying that my way was better; that his choice would not work. Did it even matter? Why did I have to insist on my way?
As soon as he sat down, it was evident that his idea WAS the best. The setting sun was streaming through the window, through the sheer curtains, shining right into his eyes. Quietly picking up and returning the kitchen chair, he stepped over the legs to reach his original choice of seating. Now his back was to the light source and he could join the conversation. Everyone smiled, graciously saying nothing.
These "little" things happen all the time. They don't really matter and yet I'm thinking maybe they do. Left unresolved, they swirl like dust and dirt, till dust bunnies are soon rolling around the relationship and you realize things are not as they could be.
The way to clean up is forgiveness. I wasn't wrong to make the suggestion, but I didn't want to let go of an idea that I thought was the best one. It was more my attitude that was a subtle put-down to him. I didn't see it at the time, but now that I'm reflecting and writing about it, I know what I need to do to clean things up. I think it's time to crawl back into bed.
All the adults had moved to comfortable seating in the family room. and now my husband came to join us with his coffee in hand. He surveyed the room to find that the only seat left was a small wooden chair on the far side of the room. To reach it, he would have to crawl over a sea of legs.
"Why don't you grab a kitchen chair and sit here?" I suggested.
"But I was going over there." He looked at the chair by the window.
"But this will be easier."
"No it won't. I'll have to carry it."
And so went our dialogue until he sat down with the kitchen chair, saying something about doing it because he loved me. I suddenly heard my voice from his perspective, realizing that in this very simple choice, I was not respecting his ideas and wishes. I was, with my words, implying that my way was better; that his choice would not work. Did it even matter? Why did I have to insist on my way?
As soon as he sat down, it was evident that his idea WAS the best. The setting sun was streaming through the window, through the sheer curtains, shining right into his eyes. Quietly picking up and returning the kitchen chair, he stepped over the legs to reach his original choice of seating. Now his back was to the light source and he could join the conversation. Everyone smiled, graciously saying nothing.
These "little" things happen all the time. They don't really matter and yet I'm thinking maybe they do. Left unresolved, they swirl like dust and dirt, till dust bunnies are soon rolling around the relationship and you realize things are not as they could be.
The way to clean up is forgiveness. I wasn't wrong to make the suggestion, but I didn't want to let go of an idea that I thought was the best one. It was more my attitude that was a subtle put-down to him. I didn't see it at the time, but now that I'm reflecting and writing about it, I know what I need to do to clean things up. I think it's time to crawl back into bed.
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