“We default to kindness,” is how Scott Turow recently described his second marriage in a New York Times article, “Why Scott Turow Brought Back His Most Famous Hero: He ‘Changed My Life.’” When I read that line, I shuffle through the mess of papers on the dining room table to find my Office Depot pink highlighter, underline the pertinent line, snap a picture of it, and add it to the 3,000+ notes on my phone.
Then over the next few days, I keep thinking about that line, in between the normal and not-so-normal rhythms of my life. And, I wonder: Do Jim and I default to kindness in our marriage? And, if I am scrupulously honest (no small thing to do when reflecting on one’s own behavior), I’d have to say the answer is “No.” And although I hate to admit it, I am probably the prime offender in our nearly 32 years together.
I am the one who is often short-tempered using that derisive tone that implies that the receiver (Jim) is an idiot when I ask him something and he doesn’t answer immediately. Of course, he’s not an idiot, far from it, and even if he were my behavior is unhelpful (to say the least). Probably what is going on is either: 1. He didn’t hear me clearly, or 2. He’s taking time to process my question before replying. Lambdins are very quick, watch us play “Jeopardy” and rattle off answers, this Henze not so much. And even though we share the “N” of the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator, “N” for being iNtuitive, you’d never know it in our exchanges, unlike my girlfriends with whom I often feel I have telepathy.
But here’s what he did process clearly: my distress over a poorly functioning toilet. For months, the flush has been anemic, leaving bits of toilet paper and on occasion, much, much worse behind in the bowl. Isn’t that interesting? The toilet won’t flush away all the day’s crap? Hmmm. Kind of parallels how I feel about life under this current administration. The ick just won’t go away. I digress.
Jim springs into action, well, hobbles into action on his creaky knees. After trying simple remedies with the plunger (which I’d done repeatedly) and chemicals so strong the odor lingers for days, it was time to call in the plumber. Plumber Michael shows up, scent of vaping trailing after him, and pronounces after a two-minute inspection and a $90 charge, “You need a new toilet.”
Okay. We could hire Michael to complete the job. However, that was never a possibility. Jim is on it and aren’t we lucky to live close to a Lowe’s and an Ace Hardware? Just a simple replacement, right? I bet you know where this is going. When is anything simple these days?
Over the next few days, I watch Jim grow crabbier and crabbier. He is short with me when I ask him things, he has that tone I find really irritating. I walk away muttering decidedly unkind things and feel like a dummy.
Old toilet out, new toilet in – not a big deal, except, as I mentioned earlier Jim has compromised knees, which he reinjured recently when he fell off a ladder in one of those productive house-maintenance frenzies he goes into whenever I travel, and the guy was in pain. I should probably mention here that Jim is LOATHE to ask for help. Seriously, it’s a character flaw.
Back to the installation. Done. Great! Hold on, not so fast. Turns out new toilet bowl is longer than old toilet bowl, and now the bathroom door won’t shut, which wouldn’t be a problem the vast majority of the time, but this is also our guestroom and I suspect that guests don’t want to relieve themselves with an audience.
Take off the door; cut down the door; sand the door; paint the door; put the door back up; add a piece of wood to the door jamb and paint that, which takes three times (at least) as long as replacing the toilet. But then it is done. EXCEPT now the door scrapes the floor when closing. Repeat the door cycle.
And, now, one thing, one small thing in the whole scheme of things, but one big(gish) thing to his wife, is done. The flush is impressive!
I know that this former co-winner of Shop Student of the Year at Blair High School in Silver Spring, Maryland, feels satisfaction for a job well done. I say, “Thank you.” It’s so easy to do – to say thank you and mean it. Maybe this situation can act as a reset in our marriage to recognize the countless ways we enrich each other’s lives. When in doubt: Default to kindness.
I have so missed your writing. I just loved this for many reasons. I totally relate number 1- kind of a funny story that I can relate to when Bruce fixes stuff #2- and finally I loved the metaphor of current situation ( don’t want to say name) and flushing ! Please keep this up. Always a highlight for me to read your posts
Hey Nedra, We were wondering if the post went out so thank you for verifying that. More importantly, thank you for your spot-on feedback. Glad you found it amusing and relatable. That’s my aim. I appreciate the encouragement.
Your writing is refreshment for the soul. I thoroughly enjoyed reading your blog post and it’s just what I needed tonight.
And I admire Jim’s stick-to-it-ness in finishing what sounds like a stubborn project.
Looking forward, as always, to reading more of your posts.
Oh, Jeannette, thank you so much for your kind words. I love that line, “refreshment for the soul.” Yes, please. I could learn a thing or two from Jim – bringing a project to an end before starting something new. He was like a man possessed. I admire his skills. I’ll be sure to tell him what you said. I appreciate you reading my piece; it means a lot to me.
Always enjoy your writing, Beth. A message for the ages.
Hey Amy, Thanks for reading, thanks for commenting, and thanks for your astute observation: a message for the ages. So true. Something to aspire to – being kinder on a regular basis.