Morning light brightened the bedroom that Sunday, but I wished I could go back to sleep. Maybe then I could pass off the fight my husband, Anthony, and I had the night before as just a bad dream.<\/p>\n
We\u2019d gone to bed still mad at each other, and now he was at work. Not that he liked working on Sunday, but the restaurant he and his brother ran was open and somebody had to be there.<\/p>\n
Amazingly our girls, Grace, six, and Genevieve, four, were still asleep. Might as well get a shower before the morning mayhem erupts.<\/em> I went into the bathroom and almost slipped on Anthony\u2019s rumpled pajamas on the floor. Couldn\u2019t the man put his clothes in the hamper?<\/p>\n The toilet paper was out too. I remembered a colleague at the high school where I teach once saying, \u201cYou\u2019ll know who does the lion\u2019s share of housework in a marriage by whoever changes the toilet paper.\u201d How ridiculous<\/em>, I\u2019d thought at the time.<\/p>\n Now, nine years into our marriage, I understood. I was always<\/em> the one who replaced the toilet paper. And emptied the dishwasher. And folded the laundry. And took the trash out. And vacuumed.<\/p>\n The fight had started on the car ride home from dinner at his sister\u2019s.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat\u2019s wrong?\u201d Anthony asked.<\/p>\n \u201cNothing,\u201d I answered, clearly meaning, \u201cSomething.\u201d<\/p>\n My mind was stuck on the conversation he\u2019d had with his brother-in-law after dinner. It began with an innocent question: \u201cHey, Anthony, have you played much golf lately?\u201d<\/p>\n Golf was a sore subject with me. Anthony loved the game. I didn\u2019t want to be the reason he never got to play, but a round took hours! Hours we didn\u2019t have enough of with both of us working.<\/p>\n Anthony shook his head. \u201cI\u2019ve hardly gotten out all year.\u201d<\/p>\n But you played golf two weeks ago!<\/em> I wanted to point out. Yes, he\u2019d gone out early in the morning so it didn\u2019t cut into our family time all that much, but still…<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s so hard with the kids,\u201d Anthony continued. \u201cThere\u2019s just no free time.\u201d<\/p>\n In the next breath, he made plans to watch the Eagles game the following week with his brother-in-law and brothers. I couldn\u2019t believe he was complaining! Didn\u2019t he see the glaring difference between his free time (limited) and mine (none)?<\/p>\n I didn\u2019t say anything, but I was fuming. Of course Anthony picked up on it in the car. \u201cNothing\u2019s wrong?\u201d he said.<\/p>\n \u201cWe can talk later,\u201d I said, nodding toward the girls in the backseat.<\/p>\n We did talk in the kitchen once the girls were in bed. I replayed the conversation with his brother-in-law. Anthony looked hurt, then annoyed. I got angry. \u201cDon\u2019t you realize how much I do around here?\u201d I yelled.<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t you see how much I<\/em> do?\u201d he yelled back, equally angry.<\/p>\n I furiously scrubbed the counter. He retreated to our room. \u201cI\u2019m going to bed,\u201d he muttered. \u201cI have to get up at five-thirty tomorrow.\u201d<\/p>\n He\u2019d left for work before I woke up. Now I wiped the steam off the bathroom mirror and cringed. I looked as wretched as I felt. Anthony and I hardly ever raised our voices, but when we did fight, it was over the same things.<\/p>\n \u201cIf you\u2019re upset, you have to tell me before it builds up,\u201d he was always reminding me. That would mean risking being a nag. So I could either be a raving lunatic or a nag. Great.<\/p>\n The bathroom door burst open. The girls. \u201cMom, we\u2019re hungry!\u201d<\/p>\n I poured Cheerios, found socks and shoes, braided hair, settled a dispute, packed coloring books and stickers to keep the girls occupied at church and herded them to the car.<\/p>\n Our pastor could have delivered a brilliant sermon and I wouldn\u2019t have heard a word. All I could think about was how I\u2019d left things with Anthony. After church I checked my cell phone. Nothing from Anthony.<\/p>\n That afternoon the girls had a playdate. I would\u2019ve loved to sit down with a book but the house was a disaster. First, the laundry. I stripped the sheets off our bed, tugged off the pillowcases.<\/p>\n Maybe while everything was in the machine, I could run out and get a present Grace needed for a friend\u2019s birthday party. Plus, there was the stack of library books to return and two baby gifts to send out.<\/p>\n Why didn\u2019t Anthony ever worry about this stuff? If he had a moment free, he\u2019d sit down and watch a game. But if I ever relaxed things would fall apart. They already were!<\/p>\n In the past month alone the heating repairman and one of Grace\u2019s friends had commented on the state of my housekeeping. When I told Anthony, he just laughed. He didn\u2019t understand why I was upset.<\/p>\n I dropped a pillowcase. I bent down to get it and noticed some stray socks under our bed. I reached for them and my hand bumped a container. I pulled it out. A large flat Rubbermaid storage box.<\/p>\n Anthony\u2019s \u201cCommencement 1999\u201d book from college was on top, then his knee X-rays from high school football. Beneath that were letters, lots of letters. A few from his parents and friends, but most of them\u2014dozens and dozens\u2014 were from me, going back to high school, when we\u2019d started dating. He\u2019d kept every card and letter I\u2019d ever written him.<\/p>\n I found a green envelope with my handwriting in all caps: \u201cDO NOT OPEN UNTIL 295!!\u201d That would be Route 295, the highway south to his college, Georgetown. It was the card I gave him before freshman year.<\/p>\n \u201cDear Anthony, I\u2019m sad just writing this because when you\u2019re reading it, we will already have said goodbye…\u201d At the end I\u2019d put my college address at Princeton and added, \u201cPlease write!\u201d<\/p>\n He did. And I wrote back, enough to fill a box. I sat on the floor and read my old letters. Most of them went on for pages, listing the many reasons I loved him. That made me think of all the ways he showed his love for me\u2014and for our family\u2014now.<\/p>\n The wonderful vacations he planned. The meals he cooked\u2014to the amazement of friends, Anthony was in charge of dinner and groceries. If he didn\u2019t have time to cook, he\u2019d bring something from the restaurant. The taxes, which he took care of because I hated the forms. The bills. The bowling and pool trips he took with the girls so I could get work done.<\/p>\n