What I Love About My Wife

This can’t just be a list, you know? Behind every simple thing I love about her there is a whole big, complicated thing. Behind everything there is a history.

We met at a mutual friend’s party. Mostly. Technically, we knew each other before then, mostly as friends of friends, and we both worked on the college newspaper staff. Also, she worked at the post office at the college, so I would see her back there when I checked my mail and she could see me, but we never had a conversation there that I can remember. So, she was at this party and I was at this party and she looked dreadfully bored. And cute. So, I took a picture of her. Later, the idea came up that we should go to Kilroy’s. I cleverly stated that I was only going to go if Patsy would dance with me. For some wonderful reason, her reaction was to come over and slow dance with me right there! There wasn’t even any music playing. There are pictures of this, too. I remember that she fit perfectly under my chin in that position. That’s one thing I adore about her—she fits.

At the end of that night (I’ll spare you all the details, partly because she has her own less than flattering story to tell about this gap in time) I told her I would call her. So, the next day I called. Mostly, I just said that I am calling because I said I would call. I am not a great conversationalist. In some of our early calls, I was watching Cheers on TV and I warned her that I may drift in and out of attention because of it. Pretty charming, huh? Our early dates include a movie that I wanted to see that she hated (Under Siege, with Steven Seagal) that included Erika Eleniak popping out of a cake (she remembers that part). She later described this date as “odd.” We also went to a friend of mine’s apartment (he had a family) where we had a more normal time except when I became fascinated by the glass snack dish they had in the shape of a treble clef and I wanted to find out where it’s center of gravity/balancing point was (because it has to have one and it’s such a non-obvious shape). She was more worried about the breakability of the dish, naturally. And yet, she has stuck with me all these years. So, that’s another thing I adore about her—she forgives.

I grew up in a big family—seven kids. Her family was not as big—three kids. She was the youngest, I was the middle child. She grew up in Minnesota; I grew up in North Dakota. We both grew up in rural homes. We both adore the Holiday Season. We both love our families. We both feel welcome at each other’s families (though the sheer size of mine and the nuances of that are easily overwhelming to outsiders.) When I look back on the turning points of our relationship, of when I started thinking “I knew” this was the right decision, meeting her family was a big part of it. We both had the same value for family. We share the same ideas about family: its role, its boundaries, its sacrifice. We talk about how our parents are similar (for better and worse). We agree on how many kids we should have. We have similar parenting goals, but different, complimentary styles. We love each other (verb) and love love itself (noun). So, I love my wife’s sense of family and her enormous contribution to ours.

Ever since her quirky reaction to my quirky dancing request, my lovely bride has been making me laugh. To be honest, I have always been suspicious about people that say that about their marriages. I don’t always laugh. My life is not 24/7 laughter, not even close. I’m not saying that to complain, rather I say that because it makes me appreciate the laughter when it shows up. Often, what she makes me laugh about most is myself. Ok, she laughs at me quite often. She and our daughter laugh about me quite often. It’s just one of the many services I provide, evidently. One of the greatest services she provides, though, is this constant, stream-of-consciousness, bippy little comic relief. Our family is full of running jokes, inside jokes, characters and voices. My wife is funny.

When we encounter a lull in our communication, one thing we can always talk about is football. There are many guys out there who have wives and girl-friends who hate football (my wife's sister is NOT a fan.) I am blessed to have a bride who is both friend and colleague of the game. She is a Vikings fan, sure, but she can talk about the whole NFL. When we are not cheering for the Vikings, we also enjoy cheering against various other teams that have earned her ire for one reason or another. Of course the Packers have to lose every game, what with the rivalry and all. Any team that Brett Favre is on has to lose, and it is even better when Brett gets intercepted, sacked… anything contributing to a bad game. Same is true for Randy Moss, since he is clearly a traitor. She is very annoyed by Peyton Manning for some reason (maybe it’s all the commercials) but she just generally hates the Colts’ “costumes” (they’re too plain.) It’s loads of fun. We have a running joke about “Coach Patsy” since she would clearly be an improvement to any sideline.

My wife and I compliment each other. You've heard the phrase "better half"? That's what I'm talking about. Which means I am only half of the whole. Did you ever see the movie Jerry Macguire? The movie melted a lot of women's hearts with its line, "You complete me." That's what I'm talking about. But I am not so young and naive that I don't know what it really means. A good marriage is two people who know what these phrases mean. Here's one of my favorite examples: my wife washes the dishes and I put them away. She does not like to put the dishes away, but she does not feel burdened to wash them, she actually enjoys that time a little (we put them in a rack and they air-dry). She puts on her favorite music, and goes to it. I am not fond of washing the dishes, but I enjoy putting them away. I see the stack of clean, dry dishes and it is as natural as breathing to just put them in the cupboard, drawer, etc. We compliment each other. But... we may never remodel our kitchen because we cannot agree on how it should be done. This is the not-so-obvious part of "you complete me." See, neither one of us can pull rank if we are half the whole. I can't say, "I'm the man. I am head of the family..." and she can't say, "I am the woman. I have nesting instincts and better design skills. I'm not bossy, I just have better ideas!" (I know a woman who has that hanging in her kitchen). What has to happen is we need to work through it: we need to listen, we need to think, we need to reconsider, we need to compromise, etc. We compliment each other because we are different, not because we have so much in common. Do you understand that? People think they fall in love because of what they have in common. Falling in love is not enough to stay married. Learning how to complete each other-- learning how to be completed! That's what a marriage lives on, IMHO.

When our daughter was very young, she already had many stuffed animals, especially beanie babies. She would literally squeel with delight if you animate it (make it act like it is talking, walking... basically turn it into a puppet). My lovely bride was the same way as a child, she tells me. To this day, both of them very much enjoy doing that. They all have a different voice, different personality, and they...talk...constantly. So, really, our house is full and crowded. Lately, the emphasis has been on monkeys. I embrace all of this. As I finally declared to my daughter: monkey chatter is a sign of health and prosperity.

So far, the plan is to never really be finished with this entry. Mostly, that is because I should and will always be thinking of more and deeper ways that I love her. Also, since it is story based, there will always be more stories.

But, for fun, I'll end with a quote from one of my favorite poems (which I won't name because the rest of it does not fit so well with the tone here): "...For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams... and the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride..."