Understanding TEAM
I learned a lot from watching my parents stay married until colon cancer took my Papa away. How I wish I could tell you that my memories of their marriage to one another was one to cherish every moment, that I can only recall both staring into each other’s eyes with genuine love and passion for one another. That they only spoke of thoughtful and kind words, giving each other words of encouragement whenever they could. There are those out there who may say that is all they remember of their parents. Quite the contrary is what I regularly witnessed.
Although they were a lovely couple to look upon on the dance floor, at home were constant bickering of life and what it could’ve been otherwise. If I had not been exposed to other examples of “love and devotion”, I perhaps would have thought theirs was the only kind.
I am testimony for truth in the saying, “the fruit doesn’t fall that far from the tree”. Little by little, I saw myself ooze out some of the sapling coming from the bark of the tree I was founded by in my own marriage.
To honor one’s husband is a bit different from to respect one’s husband. Honoring, that which I believe I have done well in, is to make certain that my husband is seen as one with a wife of good reputation, untainted from any wrongful influences. When my husband shared with me that his power as a husband comes from my love and loyalty, I thought, “how easy”. I had thought those two to be a natural give as a wife who believes in holy matrimony.
I did not know my parents during the first years of their marriage as I was child number five. By the time I was in the picture, I could see that while loyalty and devotion were there and perhaps honor, love and respect were more absent than ever to be present. It was as if they had lost fire some years ago before I came into the picture and they were just going with whatever natural flow of light they were getting with the daily riding of the sun to sunset. My ears were always drawn to, intrigued by their countless debates. It was those senseless arguments triggered from what seemed to be years of past insults from one only for the other to take each in surrender where disparity grew within me in the home.
I craved and admired the intellectual debates; the other times of verbal interaction, however, clearly from state of emotion and unrest of past recalls, I dreaded to have been placed somewhat hostage as a child to be testimony of all its existence. I started to long to see my mother not just honor my father, but respect him.
As time progressed and I started to grow older, I could only see my Papa become more discouraged of anything he perhaps could have been. It was as if my mom’s endless words of attack on who he had become due to where he had come from had taken him to a surrender- all that my mom continued to suggest he was, I saw him sadly transpire into.
I was washing the window of a grocery store I was working at in high school when I saw a very elderly couple holding hands as they walked in, the woman with a gentle, genuine smile on her face. This, this is how I envisioned myself to look like next to my husband in my latest years, still happily holding his hand. Aside from touching hands as they swayed on a dance floor, I do not recall my parents to ever hold hands.
When I got married, that loving image of the elderly couple got lost in the forest of reality that in certain moments in a relationship both my husband and I would be tried. I almost lost this opportunity to see that happy husband and wife image fall through. As blessings came abundantly our way during our marriage, our sacrifices going into fruition, evidently, the light just got brighter and we became blinded, unaware that there were darkness trying to befall our lives to dull out the shine. It was at this moment in my marriage where I recalled a look on my husband’s face, the one that Papa so vividly wore on his many times after accepting defeat. It was at that moment I deeply hurt inside. It was at that moment I had come to realize that I perhaps attributed to my husband’s fallen countenance. I was failing him as a wife. He needed me to say the right words, but I got worked up in saying all the wrong, thinking somehow, I was “winning” some kind of battle between us.
It was then that I came to the wake-up call that if my husband were to ever fall, so would I. How did I ever think that we were not one? What drew me to be his opposition? We were on the same team. If he lost, we lost.
Having come through, seeing that light never left us and only made us stronger in the fight, the following are what I gathered to have made me realize how important it is to not just honor my husband, but respect him:
I learned to respect his silence. Young, prideful, curiosity killing cat, so to speak, I am ashamed to have taken so long to come to understand now that a strong man, protector of his family, just like my father was, will not share with you their heavy burdens. I learned in the years to respect, trust and thus, have faith, that my husband would work out some troubles single-handedly and see us through.
I learned to respect his thoughts. When a man shares with you his deepest thoughts, no matter how discomforting it may be to sit through it all, he sees you as his greatest friend. I had to remember that this man saw me as his only one to understand him at even the deepest level. Even if I didn’t at first, I was given matrimonial strength to be that one who would need to listen and understand. He was counting on me. More importantly, my way of respecting his thoughts were helping him to develop respect for mine.
I learned to respect his time. I had to value the moments with him, with or without our children. Many marriages I see have gone separate ways once their kids had grown up only because both partners no longer knew what to do with each other once they found themselves alone together again. I have learned that valuing time with my husband now is an investment for creating such habit that will thus, continue, once our children are grown. I must not forget who he was before we were parents. Otherwise, I will have forgotten who I fell in love with before children or life’s obstacles came tumbling in, one path after another.
I learned to respect his vision. I may not see through his eyes and know exactly what he sees for our family, but I have learned to trust in his plans. Anytime I questioned, I saw doubt begin to grow in his eyes. It started to hit me that he wasn’t turning to me for reasons to fall, but rather, to rise. This sounds obvious, but it actually hit me one night that the world is against every man daring to become more than what he already is. I had to be the one in his corner. If we fall, we fall together. If we shall rise, we will rise together. I realize that I cannot win unless he wins. Unless I do my part, whatever that must need to be at each given moment of strive to victory, I must be that part. If my husband loses, that means I lose, too.
I learned from watching my parents when it came to marriage is that fighting against each other only weakens the team. The children around become deafened by the noise, all losing focus on victory. Everyone knows the object is to get the ball in the hoop. However, dribbling the ball forever or arguing with your teammate as to who is going to get to score or has made the most shots runs the clock and puts the whole team at risk for losing the ball. The entire team knows that at the end, it’s about winning the game. Trouble within just doesn’t do any good for the morale of the team.
I’ve clearly lost some games along the way, discouraged some of the players while I was at it. However, the good thing is, we’re not even close to the playoffs. There was a lot of learning, but we are afforded that whiteboard to readjust, recalling the Dos and Don’ts. It’s such a great feeling to know that stronger and better is the team at this first quarterfinal. Man, is that trophy looking really good when you already know that the championship trophy ahead is yours for the taking. All I have to do for the meanwhile is respect the Michael Jordan of the team. There is absolutely nothing wrong with being the Scottie Pippen. Both are incredible. The team is impenetrable together. We win together, as one.
