I am not going to give this post a title. Not even going to try. If I knew which direction this post was going to go, I’d write the title and do this thing where each paragraph reviles a fragment of the theme and as the essay builds the pieces of the puzzle would fall into place and the last paragraph would cleverly rephrase the title, neatly tying the whole text into one sublime essay.
You’re not getting a post like that today. It’s not been that kind of week.
When I got married my mother told me that a good marriage is about sharing. Recall last week when I mentioned I had a cold? Yes, I shared it with Heather. I suspect that at this moment Heather isn’t thinking that’s a particular good way to strengthen our marriage – expect for the part where I attempt to be a good caregiver.
It’s been that kind of week – sick people everywhere. Seems like at least half the people in my office were sick this week. The other half where sick the week before. Even my brother isn’t doing very well and next week I’ve got to drag him back to the hospital where they are going to do unmentionable things.
Really, you don’t want me to mention the procedures he’s scheduled for. Just know that they have a whole day of fun planned and I am the designated caregiver. And chauffeur. And wheelchair wrangler. And form filler inner. And, and, and more than I’d like to be. He’ll be worried and I’ll spend all day reminding him that, “I am here to comfort and support,” then misjudge the corner and drive his feet into a door jam. That’s what brothers are for.
Heather said she’d go with me. Yes, this kind of burden should be shared – unless it can be completely avoided.
So to console myself and dodge reality for awhile, I spent most of yesterday in the workshop doing manly things (some pictures below of a work in progress). I made a stand for my cross that I really like. Did a lot of work on a birthday present. The birthday was last month but I figure it’s not a belated present since our daughter knows I’m working on it. It won’t really be late until she gets another year older.
Today I did another very manly thing: went to a baby shower.
Yup, I willingly walked into a room of women – one very pregnant – and stayed the whole time. Even participated in one of the games (didn’t win). Then during the opening of presents I did my best to be the annoying guy with the video camera. I don’t do annoying very well (expect for my brother, he’s fun to annoy) but I did take lots of video. So why would a self respecting power-tool-using-caveman go to a baby shower? The reasons go like this:
- Heather organized the shower, but with her cold she was worried about being up to doing all she promised. Then someplace in my role as a caregiver and supporter of my wife I said out loud (apparently loud enough for Heather to hear), “I know how important this is to you. Don’t worry I’ll come along and help.”
- I saw the bags of candy she bought and knew she couldn’t watch me every minute of the shower.
- I heard that the baby’s father was going to be there too. A man doesn’t let a man go to a baby shower alone.
- Heard that my contractor friend was going to attend with his wife – there’d be at least one other woodworker in the room.
- Heather told me there’d be food there. I’ll do nearly anything for food (except broccoli, you’ll not motivate me with broccoli).
- I knew that moving tables and chairs would be involved, so I could pretend to be a big strong man moving tables and chairs around (thank God the church has bought those lightweight plastic ones – I can lift those one handed, talk about making me look good).
- It was held at church and as you know food eaten at a church have no calories, so I could help myself to all the candy I wanted, totally guilt free.
That’s all I really have to share this week and I still can’t figure a good title to throw on top of all that.
Until next week,