I just watched my husband have one of the most stressful weeks of his life. He went through training at EVMS, prepared for and took his midterms, taught class, went to class, and received a teaching evaluation that I'm sure he'd rather I not mention. Well, I'll only mention it briefly. An adjunct instructor with an M.A. in Lit (which Lucas also has...not to mention he taught adjunct the year before we moved here) couldn't seem to make one positive comment about the class she observed. Now, I may be biased, but I know what kind of teacher my husband is. He's great. He cares about his students and their success. And he takes pride in his job. So, it broke my heart to see him throw the evaluation across our living room and dwell on this one person's opinion, which in my opinion, held no relevance because she failed to make suggestions as to how he should improve. She just scolded him for knit picky things - like a few of his adult students texting while he was working with other students. I've had bad evaluations. It happens to the best of us even when we're trying our hardest. You can't please everyone, and that's a fact. Regardless, me mentioning this to him seemed to do very little to make him feel better.
So, Lucas is stressed and he hasn't slept well all week. I've woken up to him crawling away from his computer and into bed past 3 a.m. several times this week. One night, he went to bed as I got up to start my work day, only to have to get up a couple hours later to teach his class.
I have never seen Lucas like this. Usually, he's the calm one. He's the one who has to make me slow down. He's the one who offers me comfort only to be pushed away - because all the kind, sympathetic words in the world won't help when you're stuck in that frame of mind. The whole situation is foreign to me. Lucas stresses over what he wants to eat for dinner, but when it comes to the hard stuff - worrying about his career, his work relationships, his ability to provide, his reputation - he's always brushed that stuff aside. When it comes to the things that keep most of us awake at night, he always seems to know that everything will be OK. So, when I saw my grown husband grip his head and cry last night, I didn't really know what to do. I usually brush his "stress" aside. Because his stress generally consists of him not knowing what to eat or if he should or shouldn't rent some video game. Sure, he stresses over his school work, but that's simply because he wants validation that he's doing a good job - even when he knows he his, he wants to hear it from me. Maybe it shouldn't, but that stuff seems silly to me. I'm the one who worries about how we're going to pay our bills and getting our taxes done in time and saving money for tuition and making sure the garbage cans are taken out in a timely manner. In fact, I've always been kind of bitter, because in my mind, Lucas has always had the luxury of worrying about the easily fixed stuff. I'm the one who bears the big burdens. Or so I've told myself for the past couple of years.
I've developed a horrible habit of brushing off Lucas' problems as if they're unimportant. Usually, I grow frustrated and roll my eyes at his so-called "dilemmas." Usually, I do whatever I need to appease him, but I feel like he owes me and I'm not really happy to help him. But last night, for the first time since we got married, I didn't feel that way at all. I happily went and bought him the dinner he requested. And I didn't mention the fact that his button up shirt was on inside out, which I'm sure it had been all day. When he asked me not to turn on the TV for five minutes because he couldn't handle the noise, I decided to leave it turned off for the rest of the night. When I asked him why he couldn't sleep and he told me it was because he couldn't get comfortable in our small full size bed, I offered to sleep on the couch so he could sprawl and be at peace. He felt bad for accepting my offer, but he took it nonetheless. And I was truly glad that he did. Being the sweet guy he is, he told me I could come to bed once he fell asleep because, as he said, "once I'm asleep there's no waking me up." So, I slept on the couch until about four this morning, then Gus, Elliott, and I joined him in bed. We slept together as a family like we always do. This time, however, I didn't hear Lucas grind his teeth or sleepily curse the pets (or me) for taking up space. He just slept. I don't even think he realized we were there.
Stress. It's a killer. I should know, because I'm the kind of person who craves it. Lucas isn't that kind of person, though. He's the smiley one in our family. He's the one who makes me stop in the kitchen and dance stupidly when I'm trying to accomplish a million things and pulling out my hair simultaneously.
I learned a lesson last night (and throughout the week) about supporting the ones you love with no agenda. I'd like to thank God for that one. I feel like He gave me a pretty great week full of blessings (and about ten small miracles) in order to be able to show my husband His love through my actions. I gotta say, it felt good to finally be strong for my husband after all the times he's done the same for me.
Lucas, my sweet boy,
I am so proud of you. I'm proud of your accomplishments, and I'm proud simply because you made it through such a miserable week. Please, rent a video game this weekend. You deserve it.
Thank you.
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