On Mary and Martha

We had unexpected company over the other night after running into a friend while biking home from work. While my husband generously offered our hospitality, I went into Martha mode. I was tired and stressed out, and had a long to-do list in the back of my head. Company would interfere with that. I was relieved when the invitation to dinner was declined because our friend had a previous commitment, but then my husband suggested coffee later in the evening and offered our friend a place to stay for night. He said he would call us later to confirm, and we biked home.

I had several blocks in which to gripe to myself, and when a stop on the way home didn’t go as planned, that added to my irritation. We’ve had a busy week and have several busy weekends coming up, and all I could see was the work that wouldn’t get done because we weren’t around to do it. My husband asked me what needed to be done, and pointed out that most of the items on my to-do list weren’t that urgent. They could get put aside for a friend who wasn’t often in town. He then offered to make supper while I took care of one item on the list.

I felt slightly more in control of my affairs after finishing that task. We then put off eating supper while we ran out to pick up our wedding pictures from our photographer. We sat around for an hour with her and her husband, chatting and looking at the pictures, before returning home for our meal. Our friend arrived shortly after we finished doing dishes, and I got the futon ready for him. We caught up on the news with him and looked at wedding pictures. He courteously understood that we had to be at work early the next morning, and I excused myself to go to bed.

I lay there for a few minutes before I fell asleep, thinking about my reaction and my husband’s reaction to the situation. Jesus’ visit to Martha’s home in Bethany (Luke 10:38-42) leaped into my mind, and I felt ashamed. I thought about what would happen if I put off seeing or talking to friends until every item on the to-do list was finished, and which was really more important – the friends or the to-do list. My husband had had the right reaction to the situation, and had to put up with my grumpy mood all night over it. Yes, I could ensure that the dishes were done and the futon was made, but our friend also deserved my smile and attention.

The next morning we made toast and eggs for our guest, and despite my usual morning scatter-brained state as I tried to get ready for the day at work, I tried to be more of a Mary than a Martha.

Looking Back at the Wedding

I have some of our wedding pictures on my computer screensaver at work. Occasionally as they scroll past, one will catch my eye, and I’ll glance up from the document I’m editing, trying to imagine myself back in the place and time of the picture. It seems almost strange that the day that we waited so long for and put a year of preparation into would come and go so quickly. Already we’ve been married a month and our daily routines seem so normal.

My clearest memory of that day is the moment my alarm went off. On about the tenth shrill beep! I hit the button to turn it off, and then rolled over and stared up at the ceiling as my heart started pounding. Holy cow, I thought, I’m getting married today. I thought of my two bridesmaids sleeping in the other room and of my fiancé, probably still asleep at his parents’ place. I thought of everything we’d set up at the church and all the plans we’d made for this day. Then I spent several minutes praying and trying to calm down before I tiptoed into the shower to start the day.

That was my only moment of nerves during the whole day. Everything went smoothly. I was at the church early – before my fiancé was even ready (kilts take a while to put on). I laughed at the surprised looks of the first few people who walked into the church and saw the bride standing there, waiting to greet them. Then the hugs and pictures started as we tried to greet everyone – close friends, old friends, family, people we had seen recently and people we hadn’t seen in years, people I was meeting for the first time. During the ceremony, I stood looking at the audience, almost overwhelmed at the thought that they had all come to celebrate our special day with us. Many had traveled long distances; others had gotten time off work or made other sacrifices to be there with us.

I also remember the fun of that day. Trying to get my brothers into the family pictures. Holding our two-year-old niece who wanted to be in every picture. The best man running into Shopper’s Drug Mart in his kilt to get snacks for us on the way to the gardens. The teasing and joking with each other as we tramped around the gardens taking pictures. Getting mosquito-bitten and sun burnt because it was such a nice day. The groomsmen conspiring to stop at the drug store for after-bite and after-sun lotion for us girls despite our instance that we were okay and didn’t need it (we did). Watching all the little kids running around at the reception. Trying to say hi to everyone and trying to dance to our favourite songs at the same time.

Tonight we get our wedding pictures from our photographer. I can’t wait to see them, to laugh and reminisce with my husband, to see parts of the day that I missed in the busyness and bustle. To remember everything that day means to me – family, friends, laughter, fun, love.

Learning to Work Together

“How’s married life?” our friends keep asking us. I think we’re still finding out. Last week we tried making chilli together. We’ve cooked together before – omelette’s at his place, Kraft dinner at mine. He makes really good chilli, and we wanted something easy for supper – something to throw in a pot and let cook until we were ready to eat.

So he pulled out the meat and I got out the canned vegetables, then started chopping the onion. The recipe is his mom’s and he’s made it before, so I assumed he was getting the spices and knew what needed to be added next. Finishing the onion, I glanced around for the next job. The meat was browning nicely, and I went to turn it over. He said that was his job. I was shocked. I’d just been trying to help by doing what I saw needed doing, and he felt like I was taking over in the kitchen. I was feeling like he was bossing me around and didn’t need me there. If he was going to make the chilli, I could go read my book.

Supper got put on hold for several minutes as we argued over who was cooking and how we both felt. I grew up cooking with my brothers and mom. Pizza and tacos were family affairs – Mom always enlisted help, and we were happy to do so to be able to nibble on the tidbits. She put us in charge of our own lunches when we were quite young, and we often made macaroni or other dishes together. We knew what needed to get done and we just did it. While Mom was making the pizza crust, I might be grating cheese and my brothers chopping vegetables.

And so I assumed that cooking with my husband would be the same. We both knew how to make chilli. If he was working on one part of it, I could start on the other part of it. However, he assumed that we would split the tasks a bit differently – he would take care of the meat while I did all the vegetables. And our assumptions quickly collided and exploded. He felt disrespected and I felt unloved. He wanted to make a nice dinner for me and I wanted to do something with him.

The chilli eventually got cooked and tasted fantastic, but turned into a lesson for us on cooking – and living – together. Tonight we made soup and bread together, cleaned house, did the laundry, and then I worked on a newsletter while he reorganized. We talked about what we were doing and tried to respect what the other was doing. I asked what he needed help with and asked him to help me. I tried to say, “If you are doing that, why don’t I do this?”

So how’s married life? Pretty good when we’re working together.

Return to Routine

“Hi, welcome back!” “Congratulations! How was the wedding?” “How was your trip?” “Welcome back! How did things go?” “Can I see your ring?” “Hey! How was it?” “Do you have pictures yet?”

I returned to work again today, after a month off for the wedding and the honeymoon. It feels both like I never left and like so long since I’ve been here. My co-workers dropped by to say hi and ask how the wedding and the honeymoon were, and to offer their congratulations. I’ve been smiling, saying the wedding was perfect, weather was great, our trip was really good, Alaska was nice, the pictures aren’t done yet.

I skimmed through the mountains of email in my inbox – people retiring, new people starting, meetings happening, news announcements, other information. My co-worker returned my plant, having babysat it for me. It did better than the plants at our apartment, which unfortunately didn’t get watered while we were gone (and so half of them didn’t survive). I changed the name on my cubicle and called HR about paperwork.

I’m editing another part of a document I was working on before the wedding, and discovering how quickly one can get out of practice with editing. I thought I was practicing on the ship. The steward’s note in our room was a riot of bad capitalization and poor grammar, as were other announcements or documents around the ship. Apparently that wasn’t enough, and I’m having to get my brain back into editing mode. Find the missing commas, check the grammar, review the standards, look up the proper spellings.

And so life returns to normal again. The wedding and honeymoon are over, and we are back to the day-to-day routines. Eating breakfast together. Biking to work and then home again. Figuring out what to have for supper. Laughing and arguing and playing and working together. So this is “happily ever after.”

Ramblings on a Computer

I feel almost like I've forgotten what a computer is. I'm out of touch with blogs, email, and Facebook. So this is what life was like before all of that! Just before we left on our honeymoon, I updated my facebook status to say I was "in Alaska on my honeymoon." One of my friends commented, "What are you doing on a computer on your honeymoon!" I wasn't, actually. The cruise ship Internet was so expensive we never used it. Not that we needed to or wanted to. There were enough other activities to do. In Whittier, we used a computer long enough to check train schedules and send a note to our mothers about our apartment. As we walked away, I could feel the old addictions grabbing me... go back... see who has emailed you and what's happening on facebook... but we didn't.

Our friends keep asking us, "So, how's married life?" Well, the first three weeks have been good. We've discovered that I can sleep through his snoring and he can sleep through my coughing (I came down with a bad cold). We're still waiting for life to return to "normal." This week he is back to work but I am off, trying to restore order to our apartment. I have slowly whittled away at the mountain of wedding presents we got, finding places for everything. We managed to fit two people's bedrooms into one bedroom, and I've been organizing and cleaning. It is no longer an obstacle course to get from one end of the living room to the other, so I guess I've made some progress.

It's the small things that hit me once in a while. I was at Superstore yesterday, developing the pictures from our cruise. After I'd selected all the prints I wanted, the computer asked me for my name. I looked at that for a moment before typing in my new name. I'm still getting used to it. I've been slowly working at changing it everywhere - the bank, credit card, driver's license. It was almost weird on our honeymoon to keep using my maiden name, but that was the name on my passport. Now, I can start using my married name. I'm a Mrs!