It was just another typical chaotic morning in our home. As I was about to run out the door to pick up our daughter from school, I noticed my husband’s empty water bottle sitting on the counter. In a split second, I had a choice. I could leave now and take my time walking out to the parking lot. Or, I could stop to fill the water bottle up and end up doing a rushed jog out there.
I stopped and filled the water bottle. I took a minute, fully knowing it would add another 60 seconds of chaos to our day. But I also knew that after working a 10-hour day, something as simple as being able to grab a full water bottle out of the fridge would be a sigh of relief for my husband.
That’s when it hit me . . . We’ll be married 10 years this November, and it really made me think. We’ve been together for over half our lives at this point. And while we’ve had our fair share of the big moments, over time I’m realizing that the magic of marriage is really in the mundane sometimes.
It’s when he goes to the drugstore to pick up prescriptions for you and comes back with a little stuffed animal he grabbed along the way to the checkout.
It’s grabbing his laundry basket after he told you 1,000 times, he was planning to do it himself.
It’s coming home from an afternoon out to find the dishes done and a little girl giggling loudly on the living floor with her daddy who set up a perfect play day for them.
It’s getting up first to get the coffee started, not because they asked you to, but because you want to.
It’s making all the phone calls because you know the other one hates it more than anything.
It’s taking over their bedtime shift because you know their football team is playing and they really want to catch the game.
It’s making ice cream sundaes on Friday nights and shutting off the lights for a family movie.
It’s in the slow. The simple. The moments that make it clear the other person took a minute to think about you in whatever way they could.
We were just babies when we met. Wide-eyed, clueless babies with their whole future in front of them. A future of endless possibility. We had dreams of vacations and houses and babies. We envisioned weekends of entertaining and slow, sleepy Sunday mornings. Fortunately, many of those dreams have come true for us.
We’ve been lucky enough to vacation as a family. We have a beautiful daughter who has been our world since the moment she entered it. We bought a house and we’ve thrown parties to celebrate anything and everything with our family and friends. We’ve had date nights and game nights and late nights that ended in those slow, sleepy Sundays.
We’ve also seen the other side. What we didn’t know back then was saying “I do” would also mean saying I do to helping each other navigate through incredibly painful losses. That it would mean having a beautiful baby and losing one. We didn’t know it would mean fights over absolutely nothing and fights over absolutely everything.
We didn’t know some days could be so dark we weren’t sure there was any light at the end of the tunnel. But there was. And there is. There is always light at the end of the day and sometimes, it comes in moments you wouldn’t expect.
Sometimes love—and marriage—looks a lot like filling up the empty water bottle.