A STEADFAST WIFE

I know none of you who check this space now and then expected to see a picture of my underwear this time, but here it is - my portion of the week's clean, folded laundry. I am making a point of featuring it in my blog this week because it represents a unique story.

As you may have read in my last entry, Betty and I just celebrated forty-four years together. Counting all the days, including an extra day in each leap-year, like in 2008, plus ten days since the actual anninversary (the 23rd of February), that comes in somewhere close to 16,080 days since we signed the marriage certificate.

You see, to the best of my memory, in all those 44 years there has never been a day on which I did not have clean undies and socks to wear - or shirts, or pants, or towels or linens to use, or whatever. Furthermore, I have never had to do my own laundry with the very slim possible exception of when I was on an lengthy trip away from home. Collectively, that represents a lot of loads of laundry, a small ocean of water, a mountain of soap, and a blizzard of anti-static dryer sheets.

This is more than mere routine. It is a loving example of steadfastness, constancy, reliability, and perseverance. I'm mostly trained to get my dirty stuff into the desiginated basket, but there is quite a process which occurs beyond that: sorting by color and fabric type, hauling from bedroom closet to the utility room, hoisting and stuffing it all into the top-loading washer, setting the controls, adding the soap and other cleaners, returning later to lift the wet items up and out and over the edge to toss into the front-loading dryer, setting more dials and waiting again, until time to gather up the result, toteing it all to a bed or couch to sort, fold, and redistribute to the right bedside locations to be put away again. That sequence occurs for every single, individual load run on every laundry day and several times more during the week as clean things are needed. In addition, guests for meals and those who stay overnight or longer always generate extra fodder for the machines. And typically, this dirty week's pile was transformed by mid-day Monday! Amazing!

I never hear a complaint! And to my shame, she hardly ever hears a complement. This blog is one effort to repair that inequity.

Maybe some days I didn't wear undies (I could have beeen sick and in my jammies all day ) and sometimes I wore more than one pair a day (also for a variety of possible reasons) but I bet the average is close to one-a-day, or 16,080 so far, and that represents a mountain of undies and other dirty clothes you have climbed in love for me. I don't think I have always deserved it. [Aside to any fellows reading this: Theologically this is known as "agape" love; a totally selfless love expressed unendingly with no expectation (or need) for repayment. It is the way husbands need to love their wives.]

You have done well, Betty, and faithfully, and dependably. Your ceaseless labor in this regard has always been appreciated, but let the world know I should have said so sooner, and more often. I love you for a multitude of reasons, and for just being the sweet, christian lady you are, but I love you in a special, unique way every morning, even before I'm fully awake, because I can pull on fresh, clean skivvies!

THANK YOU!

PS (And how do I say this delicately?) She is equally effective with "household porcelain" too.