Who is this familiar man?

I know where he keeps his socks, how many times he’s worn his green sweater this week, when he last clipped his toenails and what he ate for breakfast.

I know which book is on his bedside table [and how many pages he reads before falling asleep], how he stores his toothpaste, where he puts his keys when he gets home and when he cannot find his favorite sweatpants [they’re probably hanging behind a towel in the bathroom].

I know his toilet paper preferences, when he’s eaten something garlicky, how many days he’s worked out this week and how he measures his coffee before french pressing it in the morning.

I know a lot about this man.  Marriage will do that to you — it will invite you to discover all kinds of interesting habits and quirks about a person and encourage you to be open to having your own habits and quirks discovered.  And the beauty of marriage is that we have decided to tolerate, accept and even love those habits and quirks.

After seven months of marriage [happy 7th month, my dear!], it’s amazing how much I have learned about this man.  And a unique kind of familiarity has developed.  For example, his habits, smells and preferences have become more familiar and recognizable.  And I have become even more acquainted with his thought patterns, emotions and dreams.  Let me tell you, it’s quite fun becoming familiar with this man.

I wonder, where will this familiarity take us?

Will it take us to a relational place of assuming we know how our partner will respond to the dirty dishes in the sink or what they will say next during a conversation with friends?  Will familiarity lead us to anticipating each other’s next joke or predicting their response to conflict?  Will familiarity prompt us to expect that the laundry and the garbage will always be taken care of?  And that our partner will always do X, Y and Z or never do X, Y and Z?

I hope not.  I fear this kind of familiarity.

As much as familiarity can serve us well [i.e. I can make him a cup of coffee in the morning ‘cause I know he drinks it black and takes it in his favorite insulated mug and he can make oatmeal for me ‘cause he knows I like it with chia seeds and maple syrup] I am aware of how it could do a disservice to us.  I think too much familiarity could breed assumption, false expectations, stagnancy or routine.  And I don’t want that.

I want to continue to get caught off guard like I did just yesterday —

I was sipping tea on the couch and noticed he was tending to the fireplace.  His face was gently lit by the firelight and he was so focused and determined to get the fire going so that perhaps I could shed one of my nine layers.  And for a moment, I caught myself thinking 

Whoa!  Who is this man?  What is he all about?  I like his bright orange patagonia belt — maybe he likes to hike?  I wonder what he’s been through in life.  I wonder what his dreams are and what his friends are like.  I wonder what he likes to do in his free time and what he likes to read.  I wonder what he thinks about God and what questions he has about life.

And then he turned around and sat with me on the couch.  And a little chill went through me.  Who am I to be so lucky to sit next to this man on an ordinary Sunday night?

I hope I have those moments fifty years from now.  I hope I’m caught off guard by something he says and it invites me to ask more questions.  I hope he still surprises me with his jokes and I hope he’s pleasantly surprised by new or rediscovered quirks of mine.

I know we’ll become more familiar with each other — it is inevitable if we are working on our relationship.  But I hope familiarity strengthens us rather than jades us.

I hope we use it [familiarity] to better love each other — to make coffee and oatmeal in the morning as the other one is still getting out of bed.  Or to laugh at jokes only we understand.  Or to put the toilet paper on the correct way because he prefers the end down.

I hope that when we are old and gray, we surprise each other.  I hope we do quirky and endearing things that invite us to lovingly ask more questions.  I hope that as marriage binds us together and as our lives continue to merge in numerous ways, we develop an even greater curiosity for each other.

And I hope, my dear, that in fifty years I will stare at you from across the room and ask myself
who is this familiar [and incredible] man?  What are his hopes?  What are his dreams?  And where are his sweatpants hiding?

Thanks to Emily Cuccarese [www.cuccaresephotograpy.com] for the photo.