Saturday, May 11, 2013
Learning as we go ... "K" is for Kevin
Sometimes marriage is just this side of perfection; other times, it's so, so hard. But if you're lucky enough to continually learn from the person you are married to ... well, you are pretty lucky.
Like most people, I think, I'm married to someone who's not a whole lot like me. He's good with numbers; I'm not. He doesn't like sugar; I wonder how that's even possible. He doesn't have to have the kitchen clean before he can relax enough to enjoy dinner; I do. He does tend to be a little moody now and again, but by and large, he's a pretty easy-going guy.
I'd be lying if I were to say I'm a quick study, but I know enough to realize that the whole easy-going thing is where I'm lacking. So I'm lucky, because on the days I'm willing to sit back and be quiet, Kevin is a pretty good teacher.
One thing I really don't like is unfairness, and suffice it to say Kevin has had to put up with quite a bit of that. This is my blog post and not his, so I won't go into detail, but a situation in his life causes him a lot of hurt, and the way it looks now, the situation seems as if it will persist for the foreseeable future.
If I were in his position, people would feel my wrath on a regular basis. But somehow, he manages to not simply ignore the situation, but turn the other cheek. He seems to feel that if he can just be patient, the wrongs will right themselves.
I have to admit they might ... but my nature would be to simply help them along by trying to force those who need to accept responsibility to accept it. But, says Kevin, "You can't do that. You can't make anyone accept responsibility for anything." And he's right.
When I'm angry about something, I feel that anger physically. My cheeks flush. My heart pounds. I'm sure my blood pressure rises. Kevin seems to experience none of those reactions. He may become quiet and sad, but nothing unhealthy happens to him. That's a behavior I'd definitely like to emulate.
During my formative years, I often heard the Bible passage that promises the meek will inherit the Earth. People who could be defined as "meek" have never appealed to me, to be honest; my inclination is to help "meek" people build some backbone, lash out, talk back.
I'm not sure I'd describe my husband as "meek," but he'd fit that description a whole lot more closely than I would. And if we both were to die this second, I have no doubt he'd be invited into Heaven with open arms, while God would likely tell me, "You -- not so fast. You have some things to work on."
There have been times I've reacted less than patiently when he's chosen not to address the situation that's causing him pain. But I wonder sometimes if my frustration is actually borne of the fact that I wish I could let things go. And that I know I really should strive to be a better person.
Kevin is not perfect, but he's really, truly good. I know myself well enough not to expect miracles, but if that osmosis thing really works, I guess I could be in better standing simply by virtue of proximity.