There are two ways of spreading light: to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it.
~ Edith Wharton
After nearly eighteen years of marriage and four children, my wife and I have learned to let a lot of things slide.
Take falling down.
If we had a nickel for every time someone in our brood has fallen down, we’d be able to afford a night out at Steak & Shake. Maybe even Applebee’s. It’s generally not a big deal. You fall? You get up. Brush off the dirt and move on.
So yesterday morning, when my wife took a tumble backwards off her gardening shovel onto the driveway, I glanced up from my spot on the porch where I was reading blogs and doing some Facebooking, noticed she wasn’t bleeding, asked her if she was ok, and when she didn’t scream or appear to be crying, I went back to browsing.
Only she wasn’t really ok. My youngest son, having seen her tumble, came running over to help her up. He then walked up to me and said, with a hint of a tear in his eye, “You know, you should go to your wife when she’s hurting.”
And I’m an idiot. Please, let me have it . . . I deserve it.