scribblechic

For the past couple of days my husband has balanced work and a house project, keeping late hours toiling away at a task he doesn’t enjoy.  He did this while I slept peacefully unaware courtesy of sleep-inducing, over-the-counter allergy medicine.  I am writing this because sometimes we say thank you, but cannot hear the value behind the words.

When I don’t feel well, I need to stop and rest.  I am someone who seemingly catches everyone else’s bug if I am not well rested.  Once sick, I don’t stand a chance of getting well without tuning out and turning in.  At the moment I am well, but seasonal allergies have me stuffy and red, pouty and tired; sleeping a wonderful reprieve from irritating symptoms.

My gratitude comes from being allowed to be selfish.  The time that is normally our time at the end of the day has been my time.  We don’t go out as often as we would like, evenings after the children are tucked into bed are our time to reconnect.  My husband set aside our time and gave me his time to rest.  Genuine appreciation lies behind two little words: thank you.

Tagged: Gratitude, Husband, Rest