Assessing our Marriage

One day, as all marriages do, Tim and I reached a point where we were in need of a serious conversation about the state of our union. Everyone goes into these things with high expectations, but there comes a time at which you need to evaluate. Does the reality match the expectations? Better? Worse?

And so the discussion began. "You know, honey, when we were first married, we were young and stupid, but we were in love. Our love, my $8 an hour wage and your promise of graduation would more than sustain us. Two children later, after I had moved into full-time motherhood, we accepted that sacrifices were still being made, but the knowledge that we were doing the right thing kept us going. However, at this point, after 10 years together, I really thought we'd be in a different place. I never believed we would still be where we are. My expectations were so much higher than what we have been able to achieve. I honestly believed, and I don't think I'm wrong in this, but I really thought... that by this point... we'd have a refrigerator with water in the door."

I think his eyes were moist when he replied, "I thought so, too, but..." He turned away. You know that feeling of failure that overwhelms a man when he knows he cannot provide in the way he would like.

So we sat in our mutual disappointment and discussed our options. They were pretty bleak.

Then God stepped in.

Or more specifically my parents. Having more money than they know what to do with, they remodeled their kitchen and not desiring a very old fridge in a very new kitchen, asked, "Do you want this thing? It has water and ice in the door." Did we want this thing??? We were in heaven.

And so the joy returned to a once stagnant and disappointing relationship. We not only had water in the door, but ice as well. Life was good. We rejoiced in our ability to, with almost no effort on our part, start with only but a cup and quickly and efficiently see it filled with ice cold water. We were giddy. We were kids again. The magic returned. We drank water like it was... well water.

Then, as happens in all relationships, the sparkle began to tarnish, those things that brought such joy now began to irritate, things began to break down.

The first to go was the icemaker.

No matter, that wasn't the fixation and the hope. The icemaker was simply a bonus. We could still buy ice and fill our icemaker ourselves. We still had water in the door and that would be enough. It had to be enough.

Fate once again stepped in and the water dispenser broke as well. Grumbling and complaining ensued. We felt our relationship slipping back into the pre-water-in-the-door days. Malaise set in. But we bucked up (for the children), put on a happy face, continued to buy our ice, and got water from the sink. The glimmer of hope was gone, but at least we hadn't turned on each other.

Until last week.

It was one of those days like so many others. I saw a puddle of water on the floor. Like any good wife, I simply rolled my eyes and cleaned it up. Not long later, I saw another puddle. This time, I think I grumbled a bit about ALWAYS being the one to pick up everyone else's messes, but I dutifully cleaned it up again. By the third time, I asked, in as sweet a voice as I could muster, "Honey, why do you keep spilling water on the floor? Didn't you notice that you did, and couldn't you have cleaned it up?"

He replied that he just had cleaned up a puddle. He thought I spilled it.

You know that feeling... that ice in the blood, something in the pit of your stomach feeling? I opened the freezer and sure enough, melted ice poured everywhere. Our food was in the beginnings of a spring thaw. The frozen quesidillas were no longer frozen. The ground turkey was bloody. The fish fillets looked and felt as fresh as the day I bought them.

But love reigned triumphant as Tim looked at me, with love in his eyes and asked, "How much is the fridge you really want?"

What a man! What a prize! What a keeper!

So after many hours researching, we bought this beauty.

It's to be delivered on Thursday.

But the story doesn't end here.

As I speak, or as I type and you read, my old fridge is like something out of an enchanted English garden. A waterfall is springing forth, cascading through he hole where once ice flowed. You see, after all this time we are back to where this odyssey began... the icemaker has started working again. Unfortunately without the "freezing" part in full commission, it simply pours out water.

And yet, I have hope.