On Any Other Day

I woke up in the middle of the night to find that I'd rolled over and was resting my head on my wife's hip. I quickly rolled back to my usual position, facing outward near the edge of the bed. She doesn't like to be touched.

Well, that's not entirely true...she does allow me to rub her feet when they're sore, or rub her back when it hurts, or massage her head when she has a headache. One or more of these is the case on most days.

I went back to sleep and had a dream...fast food in a garage, cockroaches all over. One got into my shoe.

The alarm clocks start going off around 5:45. We both have to be at work around 8. I can get up at 7:30 and still not have to rush much. My wife, however, has more extensive preparations- at least an hour's worth, plus a twenty minute commute.

Neither of us are early risers. We both tend to hit the snooze button until we've run out our grace period. Knowing this, my wife sets her clocks to start beeping about 45 minutes before she needs to get up. She has three clocks, all set at different times. Mine is set for 6, and on a good day I will get up between 6 and 6:15, make some coffee, serve her a cup before or after her shower, and spend the next hour and a half reading the news or helping her get ready...or just fighting to stay awake.

Today was not such a good day. I couldn't get myself going until about 6:30, when my wife woke up enough to complain about how late it was. I could still feel the cockroach on my foot.

The last thing that she'd said the night before was how tired she was and how late it was. In my grumpy condition, it occurred to me that I hear the same whining complaints nearly every day, first thing in the morning and last thing at night. I also get to hear similar complaints when she calls me on the way home from work, and more often than not when I call her during work.

It also occurred to me to ask what more I could be doing to help, to make her feel better. Not so much to ask her out loud...I've done that, and it usually just makes things worse. I know as well as anyone that helpful inquiries can rub you the wrong way when you're in a bad mood.

You know that old joke that guys tell about no sex after marriage? Often it's just an exaggeration, but in some cases it can be literal.

A few nights ago, she was talking to me about the strained relationships and lack of connection in her household while growing up. As usual, I listened and supported, but near the end of the talk I managed to express some of my own experience: "I've always wondered what it's like to grow up in an affectionate family."

I don't know if she took it personally.


Wilma, are you going to make it to Christmas?

edit: I wrote the last line so long ago that I don't remember what it means. Perhaps one of you can remind me. Was anyone named Wilma sick or struggling during this time?

edit: oh, actually I think it's from my job...that I was speaking to an older woman named Wilma and suddenly realized that her chances of living until Christmas (at the time, about three more weeks) weren't very good. But I don't remember the details, and I could always be wrong about what I do think that I remember...