“That’s why I picked you,” my wife will half joke on the infrequent occasions when she feels my behavior warrants kudos. More often than not, the comment is in reference to some fatherly duties I’ve carried out admirably with the kids.
Her point, of course, is that our union was not happenstance, serendipity, or any other form of otherworldly intervention, but rather the result of a well thought-out and deliberate plan by her to select a husband, father for her children, and general life partner. Whether on a conscious or subconscious level, I absolutely believe this to be the truth in most cases.
When we get marriage on the brain, and there is a wide range at which this affects folks — these days perhaps from 28-32 — the criteria for what we are seeking, even in someone we will date, changes dramatically. We think not of the date, but of the eventual marriage that might result from a series of them. We think even further than the marriage, to the children, to the house, to the bills.
If we are truly wise, we think of the trials and tribulations — challenges to health, wealth, and everything else — that hit us throughout life. We think of being in a small boat on a large ocean with only one other person to help us row. We think of looking across the boat to either find a bent back and calloused hands or two lovely and well-manicured feet draped over the edge in a casual pose.
When we are dating, with marriage far from our thoughts, we crave the nonchalant beauty, but when we get serious, we at least want to know the oar will be raised, the back bent, and the hands accept callouses with fortitude and strength. We want to know we’re not destined to row alone, with our companion only providing more burden to bear.
In January, my wife got laid off from her part-time nurse practitioner job (the position was eliminated), where she’d cared for patients during the pre- and post-cardio thoracic surgery process. She had a long commute (about an hour and 15 minutes each way), but the schedule was great for us (Wednesday, Thursday and Friday, about 8:30 to 5:30). And, in addition to the pay, she was bringing in the family benefits — an absolute key.
So when she got laid off, it wasn’t a question of whether she’d go back to work, but when, where, and with what type of schedule. We have the two little ones at ages where they love to spend time with mom (4 and 6), and so having a part-time schedule gave her (and us) great quality of life. Thus, her goal was initially to replace what she had lost — a part time job in her chosen field with benefits. Unfortunately, after a month or so of searching, she came to the conclusion that those positions, at least currently, do not exist.
It was a clear situation of all or nothing, as there was nothing in the happy middle. And due to the aforementioned reasons (benefits), it would have to be all. And so, because she’s so good at her work, and because she’s got such a great resume, my wife recently landed a job doing the work she loves as a nurse practitioner at Hackensack University Medical Center, a place she worked many moons ago and has always maintained a reverence for. (I joke that she must have overdosed on the HUMC Kool-Aid.)
And so, she will get to spend less time with the children (which upsets her) and have less time for herself (which also upsets her) but, like always, she is doing what needs to be done for the good of our family, and bearing it like a trooper.
So once again, when I look across the boat, I see the oar in motion, I see the boat moving. I see calloused hands and a bend back. And, I have to tell you, it’s the most beautiful site I can imagine.
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