He's Been Doubly Good To Me

"And if you find a love that's tender
If you find someone who's true
Thank the Lord
He's been doubly good to you"  -- Amy Grant


I've done something over 7,000 times, for over 21 years and still I smile almost every single time.  John often goes to bed earlier than me.  Sometimes we go to bed at the same time and there's this feeling of being sneaky.  Having two teenagers around keeps somebody usually up but occasionally they go to bed and we can too.  Mostly though, I come to bed an hour or two after John.  It's dark.  It's cold.  I'm tired: tumble-into-bed-and-pass-out tired. I slide into bed and feel the comfort of flannel sheets.  I find his hand and whether he's dead asleep or not, he holds mine.  I feel a comfort, a safety and a shield in that moment that cannot be explained. He takes a deep breath and I marvel at this ordinary gift that millions of others have shared...marriage.  I still can't get over that we get to be together every single day.  Living several hours away from each other for a few years after college made me realize that he was the one person I needed to see every single day.  He was the one person who I wanted to slide next to in the middle of the night.  I remember being newly married and giggling with John.  This level of companionship, friendship and love should be illegal.  It was too great! 


Now, after 21 years (which by the way is so bizarre -- how can that be?), it's tempting to think it will always be this way.  But having witnessed couples struggle with difficult illnesses or seen the slow, sad dismantling of relationships, it seems more precious than ever.  I steal into bed most nights and try to freeze it in my mind.  If only I could somehow take a picture of this moment.  But it's dark, we're tired and what would the photo be: two lumps under the covers?  That sacred space between us, surrounding us, enveloping us is just that...space.   In that space we have sobbed into each other's arms full of fear and disbelief and sadness.  We have laughed our butts off.  We have disagreed and argued and wrestled with the tough stuff.  We have imagined, dreamed, and been over the top in our crazy, irrational love for our kids.  We have been silent and yet said everything.  We have welcomed sick kids, sad kids, scared kids or kids who just need to be in the middle of that sacred space to feel the warmth and love and genuine care that is there.  In that space, I feel with all my heart that "the Lord's been doubly good to me" and I hold it tenderly and acknowledge the gift.  Tonight, that tiniest of graces will happen again.  I'll slide in, find his hand and come home.