Following on the heels of my recent posting about wives in literature, here is a post using literature for my wife.
It’s been sixteen years since we took the plunge, exchanged rings, and danced our first dance as husband-and-wife.
It’s been over a month since we landed in France so you could pursue an opportunity we all would have been crazy for you not to accept.
Let me upfront and state the following…
I have had no issue with leaving my career of sixteen years to help you;
I have had no issue with leaving the only country I have ever lived in to help you;
I have had no issue of looking like an idiot to make myself understood in a language I am only started to learn to help you;
I have had no issue with taking care of our three fabulous children to help you (which I have done for the past three years when you took a full-time job and I went to part-time);
I have had no issue with doing the dishes, laundry, and general cleaning around the house to help you (also for the past three years); and
I have absolutely no issue with continuing to fulfill the needed role of child care-giver and household maintenance worker as you pursue your dream.
However, in short, I do not mind being the help, but please stop treating me as the help.
Over the past month, as we have settled in to our routines, you have begun to develop the tendency to behave towards me as if I were a servant. Examples:
…You leave the dishes out after you have made your breakfast in the morning expecting me to wash them;
…You give me my “orders” for the day (i.e., what to buy at the store, what to clean, at laundry to do) before you go off to work;
…You seem to be upset when I am not instantly by your side the moment you call for me; and
…You seem quite perturbed that I do not have dinner instantly ready for you when your return from work even though you do not have a set schedule yet of when you come home.
As my gift to you on our first anniversary in Paris, I will express to you my feelings verbally rather than ranting them in a blog. I just needed to get this off my chest first in writing to see how it looked. It is my sincerest wish that your anniversary gift to me will be to listen with an open mind, open ears, and the loving heart I fell in love with many years ago.
My love – always,