I already know

Living together has afforded James and I front rows seats to each others quirks, sayings, strange daily routines. Speaking of routines, it is strange how they develop or really how they are birthed in the first place. The conversations James and I have before and after work have taken on their own personality. I fear them morphing into routine. Routine is safe in its predictability. It provides security and and control. But I fear routine and the banality it brings especially since I am a know-it-all. For those of you who know me I am certain that you have just been floored by a wave of shock and awe. Gather yourself and read on. Somewhere not so deep down inside of me I am firmly convinced that I know what is best. Perhaps that is just my personality but that would let me off the hook too easily.

When I come in from work I can see James' face tilt and twist while he looks into my eyes gauging my body language to figure out how to best engage his wife. 

James' daily thought bubbles...

"She's smiling and upbeat. Must have had a good day. I'll tease her a little bit and make her laugh."

"Oh no. She is frowning and quiet hope I'm in the clear."(as he goes over his mental honey-do list)

"She's just quiet...is she tired?...should I ask her about her day or does she want 30 minutes of peace?...I know, I'll turn off the tv/computer/game/put my book away so she knows she has all of my attention."

He just never knows what he's gonna get from day to day. Heck, I never know what he's gonna get from day to day and I'm me.  One thing is guaranteed each day...I will be right, duh. James knows what's up. He is a quick learner. However, one thing that really annoys me is that sometimes I fight the banality of the routine by interrupting James' stories. He tells the best stories but if I have heard it before I may say, "Oh, I already know." or "Yeah, Yeah you told me that." All the while I (the better version of me) am thinking to myself just let him talk because in this moment this story is brand new and I get to experience it's significance all over again. And I mean that. I've heard my dad's childhood stories a million times. I can mouth his war stories as though they are my own. My mom loves to relive her times as a little girl singing in the choir at church and she sings every hymn and anthem; every stanza in full voice...never do I even think to say, "Oh, yeah, I've heard that before" cutting them off like an 18 wheeler on the 610 loop. Never. Because these stories mean something...if not to me then to them and that is enough because they mean the world to me. This is more than a routine exercise. It is a time to deepen the intimacy between James and I so that I know his stories even better than he does. If I don't slow down I may rush through hearing him say, "I love you" as I reply, "Uh yeah you told me that earlier". And how tragic would that be? 

Mom was right. Sometimes we just need to shut. up.

Opening my ears like I'm opening my heart...I hear ya, baby. I hear ya.