I’m not sure exactly when it was, possibly chemo treatment number four or five, but I remember lying in bed, recovering, and Mike walking out of our bathroom, stepping over my heaping pile of dirty clothes I kept forgetting to throw (a mere five feet away) into the hamper.

As I watched him step over the clothing, he turned around, collected the clothes and put them in the hamper.

I apologized. He was doing so much.

He was taking care of me, the boys, work, and the house. I could at least put my dirty laundry away.

“Sorry hun. I was going to get to it. I just forgot.”

His response? 

“Ya know, Katy, this used to drive me nuts.

I used to get so annoyed with the wet towels on the floor.

I used to roll my eyes at the pile of laundry you left on the floor.

I used to lose my mind when I had to shut the drawers you kept leaving open.

I used to sigh and grumble whenever I saw the peanut butter left on the spoon in the sink.

Now, I don’t know.
It’s just not a thing.

I’m just grateful I get another day.

I just toss the wet towels over the rack without grouchin’ out.

I pause and smile when I put the laundry in the hamper.

I kinda just laugh a bit when I shut the open drawers, cuss a bit when I hit my shin on it.

I just lick the spoon when you’re kind enough to leave me a little extra peanut butter.

It’s crazy how all those things . . . I used to let bother me.

But now, I think to myself if you were gone, if I didn’t have you, I would miss this kind of stuff the most.”

He kissed my head, and left the room to let me rest.

And that my friends, is when you know you married up.

Five years later, I haven’t ever heard him complain about the towels, the laundry, the drawers, the peanut butter.

Little perspective shifts change everything, don’t they?

This post originally appeared on Katy Ursta

 

Katy Ursta

Hey all!  I am Katy Ursta married to my college sweetheart for 12 years, a mom of two boys, and a stage four cancer survivor. I started writing as a way of coping with my diagnosis, but found the more I shared about cancer, the more universal cancer became, and the more connected I felt to others and the less isolated I felt through the struggle.  I own a virtual health and wellness company and commit to helping my clients find a deeper motivation to fight for their own health. 
When I am not in the stands of my sons' hockey games, I am usually found folding the never ending piles of laundry, looking for the matching sock, breaking up hockey fights, or (let's just be honest) with my hand buried in the bag of chocolate, asking the question, "what do you want for dinner?"  You can find more of my work on instagram @katy_ursta or on my website, katyursta.com