Another "woe is me" post, you say. Let joy reign unconfined.
But no: this is a public thank-you to my husband. Someone asked why I don't write more about him--well, it's because he doesn't want me to. But there are times when I have to violate that rule, at least a little, just to say that he gets brownie points in heaven for putting up with me, and I am not indulging in a sly little side run toward self-pity when I say that. Living with a person who occasionally suffers from depression can be hell. I read somewhere once that the secret to happiness in marriage is to take a good look at yourself in the mirror every morning and say, "Well, you're no bargain, either." That's pretty much my motto. Whatever faults my husband has, I can see him and raise him two. We've been married long enough now for me to know that marriage is only sometimes a lovely autumn walk in the park; sometimes it's a muddy hike up a mountain in the rain. I look at pictures of happy couples in the wedding section of the paper and think: long hard slog ahead, folks. No getting around it. Marriage is just like that, and the people who don't know that are all too often the ones who create the divorce statistics. The day-to-day creeps up on you, and the constant demands of the kids, and the need to pay the bills, the late-night exhaustion that makes sleep more attractive than sex. The secret is laughing as often as possible, because there is always something funny going on if you look for it, and just plain hanging in there, because better days are ahead.
Not only does my husband hang in there, he also unloads the dishwasher and folds laundry and cleans up cat vomit, and he does it without complaining. (Well, mostly. He's only human.) And have I mentioned he makes telescopes for outer space? Is that cool or what?
So: thanks to a superior human being who rarely gets the credit he deserves. And sorry about breaking that rule.