Mutual support
I was going through some of my old files yesterday and found this thing that I wrote a few years ago:
On a recent morning I was in my kitchen preparing lunches for my wife and myself before we headed off to work. I had just finished stuffing some chips into a plastic bag when I heard a small rustling in the pantry. Before I had time to process the implications of the noise, a mouse came scurrying out and ran behind the refrigerator. I am ashamed to say that I screamed. My verbal explosion did not take the form of a manly shout of anger. No, it was a high-pitched, otherworldly scream. The quality of the sound that came out of my mouth jarred me from my fright and prompted me to think, "Was that me?" Mrs. Happy was doing something in the bathroom at the time. She came running into the kitchen, more frightened by my scream than I had been by the mouse. I told her it was only a mouse and started laughing uncontrollably. I laughed even harder when she told me I had sounded like Ned Flanders. My laughter burst forth spasmodically throughout the rest of the day. I suppose it was a nervous reaction to the fright and the embarassment, mixed with a healthy sense of humor about what an incredible dork I can be.
This writing in and of itself has nothing to do with marriage, but it made me remember what the early days were like. We were learning how to live together peacefully, how to help and build each other up. We were making sacrifices and picking up each other's slack. The mouse incident showed us that we could each overcome an attack of the willies—or heebie jeebies for those of you in a different region—in order to save the other person from discomfort.
In this particular case, we set up a glue trap for the mouse so that we could catch and release it without hurting it. When I found the little critter stuck to the trap in the kitchen, I experienced some impressive willies. My wife stepped in and put the trap, mouse and all, into an empty bucket, and we took it out to a nearby park to release it.
This particular brand of glue trap required us to apply vegetable oil to reduce the glue's stickiness, then pry the mouse off with a stick. At the first drop of vegetable oil, the mouse started squealing, which inspired more willies in Mrs. Happy than I've seen before or since. That fortified me to take the trap from her and release the mouse, which crawled away tired and shaken but still alive.
This is, of course, a silly illustration of an important marital concept: mutual support. Twice so far in my marriage I've been out of work for several months, growing more discouraged, depressed, and even fearful every day. Throughout both times my wife was a rock, always positive, encouraging, and loving. After she earned her master's degree, she experienced a huge letdown and loss of personal momentum. I did my best to fortify her spirit and help her get her groove back. I have comforted her through the loss of her grandmother. She has held my hand through some pretty intense family strife. I guess love makes you strong when you know you need to be.
