When We Do
I’ve written before concerning marriage and not sweating the trivial stuff as couples—but what about those times when we do?
Any time Mike and I travel together, inevitably, at least some amount of bickering comes with the territory. Faced with situations that possibly no one deals with every day—like waiting in the heat for more than an hour for a rental car that was supposed to be ready, or dashing in the rain over ground that’s flooded while attempting to avoid oncoming traffic and catch a taxi—it’s pretty easy for even seasoned partners to start butting heads.
The reality is that it doesn’t only take impressively climactic circumstances to cause frustration in relationships. Sometimes the smallest means have started fires.
At one point during a recent trip to Pennsylvania, passing through the stunning Allegheny Mountains on a foggy autumn afternoon, I started thinking about the time my husband and I had spent together leading up to that point. We were already a squabble or two into the day—I’m telling you, driving in a car for several hours on little sleep is exhausting, and, when I’m exhausted, a much darker side of me emerges—but, somewhat remarkably, the two of us were still okay. That is to say, we were still composed and speaking and even holding hands here and there. I felt so impressed. What was this alternate universe we’d entered, keeping the peace like two grown adults even when things had grown tense? Usually we’d be knee-deep into a silent treatment session by now, boxing gloves on and lips pursed. (As I don’t hesitate to make known, unfortunately I’m an expert at this.) Had I suddenly matured on this trip? Had a couple of days out of town made Mike and me matrimony extraordinaires?
No, likely not. I think the real explanation was in the way we’d conducted ourselves afterward. While it’s definitely possible we still rolled our eyes, when he’d frustrated me, I hadn’t shut him out. When I had annoyed him—I just know your mind is blown that I could get on somebody’s nerves— he’d only briefly lost his cool. We’d succeeded in not dwelling on things or making a situation more than it was, and, as a result, were able to proceed with all means of communication still intact.
It certainly beat the alternative of not speaking to each other for a day or two over a couple of teeny glasses of spilled milk.
Married couples are going to feel irritated now and then—yes, over the less significant stuff too. I think it’s just par for the course. When you do, though, keep on going. Forge through the pettiness, and start getting good about doling out grace. I’ve seen grace suppress even the tallest flames.
And it’s something we’re so grateful for when we’re the one in need of it.
A resident of McDonough County, Erin Eddy lives in Macomb with her husband, Mike, their five boys, and two zealous Australian Shepherds. She aspires to uplift readers, penning stories of encouragement and everyday life. Her work has been featured on the influential website Her View From Home, as well as the book series Chicken Soup for the Soul. Contact [email protected].
