Sunday in our home is our "Get Stuff Done" day. Between J and me, our typical Sunday To Do list includes:
This do-it-all-on-Sunday schedule works just fine for me with my Monday-Friday job, but is less convenient for J whose schedule has no concept of seven-day-cycles and that perpetually enigmatic "weekend." Indeed, finding a way to balance the demands of our two conflicting schedules has been among the biggest hurdles in residency, because not only does getting things checked off my list bring me a sense of calm, but so does spending quality time with J. While tasks and errands and obligations multiply, quality time is hard to come by. Yesterday J was on call. He left for work at 6:30 in the morning and stayed at the hospital all night. At 9:25 this morning I was just beginning my run as he was ending a case. After finishing all his notes, making all his calls, and tying up all the loose ends, he finally made his way home around noon on only two hours of sleep. When I asked him why he didn't stay at the hospital to sleep more before coming home, he said "I needed to get out of there. And I knew you'd probably need help at home."
Have I mentioned that I love my husband? I had just cleaned the kitchen floor (because, ants), so J immediately took out the recycling and asked what else needed to be done while I put everything back in order. He loaded up the laundry bags while I changed the sheets on the bed. In only a few minutes we worked with and around each other, making the best use of our limited space and time before his well-earned fatigue finally claimed him. "When do you want me to wake you up?" I asked. "Three?" he said, optimistically. "Okay, four," I smiled, knowing him just a little too well. He lay down and despite my best intentions for productivity I did too. He wrapped his arms around me and I felt that unique calm within me, where the sensations of safety, security, home, love, familiarity, and warmth curl in on themselves and purr. It began to eclipse the To Do list running in my mind. It's just about the only thing that can. It didn't take J long to turn over and fall asleep. I could have gotten up and gone to do the laundry, but it had been too many hours since I've been next to him, and suddenly this was more important. Our marriage depends a great deal on my ability to be independent, to take care of the home when J can't, to attend to all the little wheels and cogs of our life while J attends to the immediate needs of so many other lives. It means knowing how to take care of ants and clogged toilets and laundry and meals, managing our finances and our calendar and our cat. It means fixing things when they break or knowing who to call, and taking the initiative to do it. It also means knowing the value of a moment, and noticing when my time is better spent on something more important. I am absolutely zealous about my time with J because our lives are too busy to take our quiet moments together for granted, but I often struggle with balancing the need to do with the need to be. I often choose poorly or notice only when it's too late that I could have been spending meaningful time with my partner instead of whatever it was I thought was more important. Laundry and lesson plans? They'll get done. They always do. At this moment I am writing while J sleeps next to me, his steady breath the only soundtrack I need, our cat curled up at our feet, and I cannot imagine a better use of my time. Everything else can wait.
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AuthorNashira is a music teacher and proud Small-Town Jew who, after surthriving six years in Brooklyn for her husband's surgical residency, is finally back in Wisconsin where she belongs! At least until the end of the two-year surgical fellowship, that is. It's a wild ride, and she's ready to tell you all about it! Archives
September 2019
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