"Oh, it's a fragile thing
This life we lead
If I think too much I can get overwhelmed by the grace
By which we live our lives with death over our shoulders"
This life we lead
If I think too much I can get overwhelmed by the grace
By which we live our lives with death over our shoulders"
["Sirens", Pearl Jam]
Back in April of 2018, I started a list of things I love about Liza-Ann. With Valentine's Day approaching, I thought I'd go back to my secret list and share a few more. Once again, I present them in no particular order.
Over the last number of years, working as a consultant, I've become much more keenly aware of simple courtesy. 'Please' and 'thank you' are powerful words. They are the lubricant that keeps the social machine running smoothly. And while my close friends would most assuredly tell you I'm still a sarcastic knob (and I am), I've made a concerted effort to be very diligent with being courteous, in all avenues of my life.
Liza-Ann is a very courteous person, quick with please and thank you. It may not seem like a big deal in the grand scheme of things, but I think it really is. In a long-term relationship, 'please' is a consistent reminder of respect, and 'thank you' a consistent reminder of appreciation. I've been in relationships in the past where these things became "assumed", but here we are, 15 years in, and they are not assumed, and I'm glad for this to be the case. "Love is an action verb," as Liza-Ann says.
#15 She's Tidy/#17 Only Some of our Obsessive-Compulsions Overlap
I'm a tidy person. I've lived with a number of roommates who ran the gamut, but mostly skewed toward the messy end. When it comes to co-habitation, this is one of those things that only happens in one direction. Messy people seldom find much issue with a roommate that is tidier than they are, but every tidy person consistently resents having to tidy up after more than themselves. Love is a powerful thing, but cohabitation requires a certain pragmatism. Liza-Ann is a tidy, highly-organized person, much like myself, and has certain compulsions when it comes to keeping certain things clean and tidy. Even more, our compulsions don't overlap much, which gives us each the freedom to feed the monkeys on our backs without stepping on each other's toes much. The net result is a tidy home we can both enjoy.
A few weekends ago we reorganized the kitchen cupboards. Most people wouldn't think of that as a 'fun couples activity'. For us it is. Together we made our home a little bit better, and we enjoyed doing it.
#21 She Understands My Stranger Limits and Doesn't Shame me for them/ #30 She Makes me a Better Man
I have some peculiar limits. Like I have social anxiety in particular circumstances, and it's not even necessarily consistent. It's hard to explain. Liza-Ann has come to learn these odd limits, and she is pretty accommodating about them. She doesn't necessarily push me to change.
It is a fundamental failures of any relationship to want, expect, or wait for someone to change into who you want them to be. People do change and grow, yes. But you can't make them. You can't control and direct it. Nor should you want to. Love them for who they are. Love them for who they are becoming.
You can, however, help them. You can give them that room they need to grow and encourage them as they grow in whatever direction it is that they need to.
I really feel like Liza-Ann does this for me. I'm changing, evolving, particularly these last few years. And LA has only ever encouraged and helped me in that. I don't feel she's ever done anything to stifle it. By not pushing, just encouraging, by giving me the space I require, she has empowered me to be a better man. And I'm grateful for it.
And So...
My writing is usually in a narrative style. There's supposed to be a reveal, a conclusion. I'm working toward something. But this is a story that's not over. This is the middle. And it's not spiraling toward some momentous romantic thing, because that's not the nature of a beautiful, enduring relationship. If anything, the ending will hopefully be tragic, bittersweet, and in our 80s in a nursing home.
This, this is comfortable. It's a warm hug when you get home. It's playing with the fluffy cat while you both fold laundry, grumbling together over the mess in the kitchen the kid left behind or smiling together at the report card he brought home. It's curling up on the couch together to watch a movie and then comparing notes as to what you both thought of it. It's sending each other TV show trailers and restaurant menus. It's planning vacations and inviting friends. It's shoveling the driveway together and figuring out who's doing the driving today. It's taking turns picking up Tims.
It's paradoxically both miraculous and matter-of-fact.
And it's wonderful.
